I have been travelling lately: To my native Rockford, Illinois — where my brother, sister and I began dismantling our childhood home — and to Paris for work. The juxtaposition recalled a comment by another Illinois expatriate, Ernest Hemingway. “Broad lawns and narrow minds,” he wrote of Oak Park. When I was growing up, Rockford was truly a small city with a closely entwined topographical … Continue reading Turf Wars

I have been travelling lately: To my native Rockford, Illinois — where my brother, sister and I began dismantling our childhood home — and to Paris for work. The juxtaposition recalled a comment by another Illinois expatriate, Ernest Hemingway. “Broad lawns and narrow minds,” he wrote of Oak Park. When I was growing up, Rockford was truly a small city with a closely entwined topographical … Continue reading Broad Lawns, Narrow Minds

ast week the Milan silversmith Dabbene called to tell me that the grape scissors I had taken in for repair were ready for pickup — and had been since 2000. Readers expecting a satisfying tirade on Italian inefficiency will be disappointed. After all, I was the one who, probably assuming them to be irreparable, had forgotten them for half a decade. Moreover, the satisfaction of … Continue reading Mending My Ways

When I tell people that I live in Italy, their first reaction is “Oh, how romantic!” followed by “I envy you; it is my dream to live in Italy.” When I tell them where I live, they add, “I’ve never visited Milan. We just changed planes/trains there for Florence, Venice or Rome…” Milan is a stopover on the way to nicer places. I don’t think … Continue reading Middle Milan

Giorgio Armani once said his muse was the anonymous but elegant Milanese woman who — like the best of Italian design — combines high aesthetic and functional standards. She’s between 20 and 70 but you can’t tell from her clothes. She rides a bicycle in terrifying traffic, pushes a pram over cobblestones and wears the latest trend without looking like a tart or fashion victim. … Continue reading Non-Babe Shopping

When my erstwhile husband and I ordered a new car, he wanted the satellite navigation system — GPS. I considered it a useless male gadget, whose function was adequately covered by my impressive, if old-fashioned, map-reading skills. He ordered it anyway. By the time the new car arrived, we had separated; he happy with the new one, and I with the low-tech oldie. But seeing … Continue reading Love You, George

On one of my first trips to Cortina, I witnessed the following scene in a sock and pajama shop. As I marveled at the Italian ability to turn the pedestrian necessity of sock-buying into a style-honing experience, the store’s proprietor struggled to find a set of matching pajamas for a customer’s three children, aged fourteen to five years. The mother was almost overwhelmed by the … Continue reading Cortina’s Lapsed Skier

Every now and then I fall for perverse compulsions to perform deeds I know I will regret. I should know better by now. One such compulsion cost me a piece of my finger. Another took several layers of skin off my tongue, when I fell for the siren song of elder siblings who convinced me to do an experiment with my tongue and a frozen … Continue reading Baccalà Assailed

Anyone who has lived in a foreign culture knows that certain words and phrases defy translation because they describe purely local phenomena. For example: In English, “looking good,” “putting your best foot forward,” or “pulling something off” hardly captures the Italian fare una bella figura. And only legislation — the recent law on privacy — taught Italians that banking should be a personal matter. Italians did … Continue reading Slip It On