Showing posts with label pizza. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pizza. Show all posts

Saturday, May 22, 2010

The Simpsons Pizza



The Italians love American culture. Just look at this small business flier as an example. Not only is the name straight from an American cartoon series, but even the owner's listed name is American, "Ricky". This man probably has Riccardo listed on his birth certificate, but growing up, it probably became irresistible to don an English version of his Italian name.

At my gym, the owner goes by "Larry" but his real name is Stefano. I can't see the connection, so maybe there's a story.

The theme of our brochure for a pizzeria per asporto/bruschetteria/piadineria in Rubano is even located on a square named after a famous American. Of course, his name was spelled and printed incorrectly: P.zza M. Luter King. Notice the "h" is missing. Although I myself may not be great when it comes to spelling, I find this typical and funny about Italians. They misspell English words all the time since our spelling rules are much more complicated than theirs. They don't bother to verify spelling on internet or in a dictionary before printing hundreds of copies of something. I've even seen cities make street signs in misspelled English, such as Via Pensilvania in place of Pennsylvania.

As for the Simpsons menu, the "dedicated" pizzas offer tastes assigned to specific Simpsons characters including Homer who piles grilled vegetables, ham, brie, mushrooms, pepperoni and more onto his selection, Krusty with hot dog, french fries and onion on his and Lisa featuring Philadelphia cheese with speck. At least, the American cheese was spelled correctly!

Also this place is down the street from "Big Bowling", another adopted American hobby and locale with an English name. It wouldn't be cool if it were in Italian.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Expensive Food and Oodles of Time


The airport experience. Hurry up and wait. This time I have a 5 hour layover. The loudspeaker blares announcements, searching for people about to lose their flight, the security check rings, the internal airport cars honk their horns to make way. Groups of people stagger down the halls with their heavy luggage. The news rumbles across the rafters and emanates from big TV screens scattered across the grounds.



I just finished having an expensive portobello mushroom pizza and overpriced Sam Adams beer at the sports bar at JFK Airport. At least I got to watch some baseball while eating.

I know. Why am I eating pizza in the US? Well, it looks more appetizing than most of the carissimi panini in the airport. I'm still doing the American experience because I even got ID-ed!

Now it's on to surfing the net to kill time and get back in touch with my cyber followers. It's been hard to find the time or best Internet connection to make blogging easy. I am back thanks to T-mobile wi-fi at JFK.

Airports are such an ordeal for ex-pats. They offer the opportunity to go anywhere in the world yet drain us physically, mentally and financially. Getting "home" is never easy. The endless hours of layovers and jet lag to boot at the end of the trip make them dreadful. People turn into numbers and get pre-occupied with bags and passports as they race to distant terminals in the pursuit of the connecting flight and get inspected repeatedly. We study monitors for flights to appear and instruct us about our destiny: gate number, boarding call, wait time. We wander around the shopping area, not wanting to spend any more money but too bored not to go in and look. Our cumbersome bags make us think again, whether it is worth entering into Hudson News or the Prada store. But it's just so boring here!

Soon I'll get onto a plane and hope that there isn't a crying child next to me tonight as I try to sleep. Maybe the movies will be new and interesting for me to watch. What's for dinner, the big event while in-flight? And why do airplane meals always make my stomach feel strange, even when I order a vegetarian menu?

Eventually I will land in Italy and be welcomed by my husband's embrace and the long trip's annoyances will be forgotten. 'Tis travel in 2010 of An American in Padua.