Thursday night was a great time for the most part. I got to spend my day making ratatouille for the entire group including our professors and one of their families. In total there ended up being about 25 people in the apartment. There was a sort of inner peace that came with methodically and calmly breaking down various vegetables; two hours I spent cutting eggplants, zucchini, tomatoes and onions. I threw in a little white win because I knew it would bring a little brightness to the relatively bland ingredients. Bennet, one of the professors brought over some chicken parmesan he made from scratch. A bunch of the guys made a great looking caprese salad for the entire group.
Bennet showed up early with his chicken parm and shot the breaze with us until the other people showed up. I get the feeling that he misses his college life and just had a great time drinkin' with a bunch of chill guys, making food and talking about ancient literature and, well, women. I'm told that, after a few glasses of wine and a Guiness, he told the guys that somebody's gotta get lucky sooner or later.
The dinner ended up being a success. People actually liked the ratatouille, which was a nice departure form the pasta, bread and cheese diet we've been living off of and Bennet's chicken parm almost put me in a coma because of how good it was in addition to the fact that I haven't had some sort of dead animal to put in my system for so long.
By the end of the dinner, a lot of the girls were a bit past tipsy and chatting with the professors. I got goaded into making desert for some of them who were a bit too impatient to wait for the others to finish their pasta (okay fine, if a pretty face tells me to cook I can hardly say no...) I tossed some (okay a lot of) butter into a pan along with some unknown amout of brown sugar and fresh, pitted cherries (all of which I had to pop myself *giggles*) and made a simple, artery clogging syrup. After that had just about come together, I threw in some Bacardi rum and lit the whole lot on fire. Actually the whole point of that dish was the flambe to impress the guests. Isn't that what a host is supposed to do? I served up the cherries royale over some creme gelato that Professor Evert brought over; tt ended up being a big hit. Even Evert told me "This brown goo with the cherries in it is delicious!"
After the dinner was complete and an innumerable number of dishes were piled into the sink, the girls invited us out to a pub, but because the other guys had previous engagments (which I was not privy to) I was the only one who ended up going who wanted to do something that night and let me tell you. Drama. I mean as soon as we left, there was drama because of a misunderstanding between the girls and one of the guys over plans for going out that night. Apparently they thought he was going behind their back with the other Geneseo group, who was doing the Hum I and II program in order to get some action (well, knowing something about this kid and his story with one of the gals, I could def see where these girls were coming from).
We brought two (large) bottles of cheap white back to their apartment and started the preparty. There I met one of the girl's sister, who was a gorgeous five foot seven blond of Czech decent, who was extremely personable (we'll call her E). I immediately felt my IQ drop 50 points as soon as she smiled at me, though I would like to think that I didn't show it. Her winsomeness would lead to some pretty heavy sister-sister drama later, but it was all good fun up until then.
We previously had plans to go on a pubcrawl in the Forum, but were late getting on the metro back to their apartment so we decide to hit up some pubs that they've heard of. Polishing off the last bottle of wine, we walked to Piazza Navona to one of the "dirty American" bars, where the drinks are strong and the beer is cheap. Along the way, E would say "ciao" to just about every guy she came within 20 feet to, which started to get her sister (we'll call her C) worried and a little angry.
We made our way to the bar and met up with some of the people from the other group. A couple of the girls from my group started chatting and introduced me as "the really good cook," which I'm perfectly happy to accept, especially since one of the gals, a supermodel-eque italian brunette (if she were taller, I could def see her as one) told me that "girls really go for that." It was a nice thing to hear coming from her, especially after a few Guiness were in me.
After we all were satisfied with drink and left the bar, the drama started. Apperently E had just talked to one too many guys (and was kissed by some italian boy), causing C to just go angry sister on her. At this point I also learned that I was that guy that C trusted enough with her baby sister to have me talk to her when she wasn't around (E is only a year younger than C). While it's nice to know that I'm good enough friend with C to do that, I can't say that I enjoy trying to console a distrought teenage girl who has her sister down her throat. It's like trying to pry apart two tigresses trying to rip each others' throats out, using only a small stick and a folding stool.
E told me to go back with the apartment with them cause she didn't want to be alone when her sister really started to tear her apart. To be honest, at that point I wanted to run the hell out of there, but at the same time I had certain amount of sympathy for her that I would at least stay for a bit. Thankfully they ended up "talking" things over in the lobby of the apartment building while me and a couple of the other girls "walked" up to the apartment, where we just waited for the whole thing to be over.
When they came back up, things had calmed down enough so that I was mildly comfortable with the environment; at least I was comfortable enough to fall asleep on the floor.
The next morning they got up early to share what I hope was a peaceful trainride to someplace where they and their mom and aunt were spending the weekend. At least I had a quiet metro ride back to the apartment, where I slept the entire 90 degree day away.
sabato 20 giugno 2009
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yo how come youve never cooked flaming cherries for us?!? ohh well i guess you'll have all next year to make up for it...jk lol unless you really do wanna cook for us!
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