The Runaway Cook

Today has been perhaps one of the strangest days I have encountered in a long time (from the outside looking in, that is). I have felt much too relaxed to be traveling from the USA to (musical build “Dun Dun DUN”) Italy. I should have had a freak out at some point today, but I haven’t. It’s 9:23pm eastern time and I’m still as relaxed as ever.

It all started with a sunny morning. I woke up, and took a shower with extra loud singing. I packed up my odds and ends, painted the face and did up the hair. I hopped a ride to the airport with my landlord, Peter. The deal was he would take me but we had to stop at a nursery. Riding in the loud cluttered pickup to a small farm was even more relaxing. It almost felt like I was back in Iowa, 15 years ago, riding in the truck with dad.

Still very relaxed, I lug a very large new suitcase (thanks to Grandma’s sweetheart Wayne) into the airport. Ok, so the guys at the airport tried to play a prank on me . . .wait, I take that back. They succeeded in pulling a prank on me. It happened like this: I thud the enormous black package onto the scale. Instantly he scale jumps to 50 then 79 then 88.5. Two heads behind the desk begin to shake and I hear moans of “This woman packs too much.”

“Oh, uh jeepers, is that right?”

“Naw, they’re just messin’ with you.” Thank God! After re-weighing it, I had to remove nine pounds. I was ok with this, and having to toss out a $2-pair of flip flops was not even slightly depressing. Still relaxed, I lug 40 pounds of stuff to my gate and wait.

We arrive early to Newark. In fact, so early that the pilot apologized, HA! Excess time equals making a break for the restroom. Suddenly, I feel a rush security and certainty. I feel that I without-a-doubt, I belong here I don’t know why this epiphany came while waiting in line for the bathroom, but it did. Sandwiched between women, all speaking different languages, I thought, “Wow! This . . this right here . . . this is my experience. This place, this now, is part of all our lives and travels. Yes, this is a bathroom, and they may just be going through the line to reach a toilet. However, for me this little insignificant place feels like destiny.

Finding the gate was easy and I decided that since the currency exchange station was conveniently located right by it, I’d head in that direction to trade my dollars in for Euros. As I walked away with my 19 euros, a gentleman in a red shirt and blue sports coat stopped me. “

Here ya go kiddo” He said with a smile. In his had was a the rouge inked piece of paper worth ten Euro (that’s about thirteen dollars). Point taken, God. I know this is where I belong. I have never felt so sure about being in the right place and the right time. Destiny, divine appointment, fate, whatever you call it . . it’s amazing.

Everything seems so dreamy and surreal, and yet extremely tangible. I I feel like I’m walking into a photograph. It seems impossible and irrational to think that I will board this plane and land in Italy rather than Iowa. Somehow this object will transport me from my world to this world to one I have only known as a boot and a map, a cuisine I have studied, a place in the movies. It’s real, I can’t believe it! I keep trying to imagine what I’ll feel like when I see the land, buildings, ruins, people . . It’s like seeing Santa in the flesh.

AIRLINE FOOD

On a side note, I have just finished dinner. I was famished! Arriving from rolling airline trays was a three course meal compacted into tiny containers on a pale blue tray. I first notice the miniature metal flatware wrapped in plastic accompanied by a napkin and gray packages enveloping salt and pepper.

First course: salad of iceberg, two slices of cucumber, and a wedge of very under ripe tomato withcaesar dressing

Second course: a 2x5 plastic container of rice, .33 of a chicken breast, and green beans-who still had crunch but by most accounts would be considered dead by their color and taste. The chicken was not half bad, a bit dry but the extra liquid inside made up for that.

Accompaniments: Roll- crusty (as in dried not as in good and hard from the oven) outside, soft inside real butter- I spread this very soft butter on my broken roll worshipfully. Butter fat is holy and although many around me were scarfing their meals down like no tomorrow, I wanted to savor and enjoy this new food experience.

Third Course: Milano cookies and a whole milk, which I savored and dipped every so lovingly into the thick viscous milk. Sadly the cookies tasted like plastic. (hahaha)

Atmosphere: Lovely, the gerrrrr of the plane motor, was the base to muffled coughing, noses being blown, and mumbles in multiple languages. Oh and I had the best seat in the house, cutest guy on the plane next to me. Medium length, shiny, dark hair, dreamy brown eyes, goes by the name of Phillipo, stands about 3’ 8” and if I had to guess, I think he’s about seven.

What a great day. Well I’m going to try to get some rest now. I have a long and amazing day ahead of me . . in ITALY!!!!!