The Runaway Cook

A diary of culinary adventures

The Streets

The water is blinding me as I stare out at the lightning edged ripples. The air is warm with a salty col breeze. Even though I've only been out here for a short time my hair is already coated in the aroma of magenta flowers, sea air, and citrus.                                                       -                                                                                                           This morning I am hunting for food. As I've walked through town and up the main street, I have found that there is no shortage of limoncello. Every shop, no matter what their specialty, sells this lemon liqueur and I am pretty sure the tourists here can't get enough of it. All the buzz about this beverage makes me all the more excited to visit the Limoncello Factory in Ravello tomorrow.

Aye! But I have yet to find some food, I just want a bakery or a grocers or something. So far many of these I've gotten bad directions and I had found none of the above. But after a little more wandering I found my first fruit and vegetable stand. In a nook smaller than my apartment stairwell, was a counter surrounded by dragon beans, tomatoes, citrus fruits, and more- including about eight different stone fruits who all must know english because they are wooing me to them.                               -                                                                                                     Note to all about markets in Italy. DO NOT TOUCH. Even though there are boxes just out in the open and fruit begging to be grasped and adored, you are not the one to do this. No matter how many people are there with the one worker, you must wait and ask for them to pick out the fruit. Just mention if it is for now or later and you'll get the ripeness you want.  I ended up with a couple nectarines that cost me about 80 cents US for the both of them. Mmmmmm. . . . 

Next I found a little grocers just up a bit and to the right.  There I was able to get some bread and fresh mozzarella di bufala. Granted this is probably not the highest quality of either, I am still in a state of bliss and can't wait to eat my bounty. 



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