We went to Aunty Rosina's funeral today. Turns out her name is Bortola - no wonder she went by the name of Rosina.
She was interred in the family vault, a concrete-lined tomb about 10 foot deep with concrete shelves either side. They have not perfected sliding the new coffin into its designated shelf as the marble top which comes off to facilitate the burial is shorter than the coffin length. I was holding my breath as the coffin was manhandled into position.
Italians do not have wakes so it's on your bike afterwards. We called into see Aunty Isetta who is now the last of that generation of the clan.
We had a date with John at Trattoria Al Buso (yes again) for lunch as she was doing baccala (salt cod) and polenta and he promised it was good. Too much, too much, I told Frank to cancel our dinner at the Arsiero Hotel but he refused to do so! These Buso meals are huge and secondo plate comes with extras (unrequested) such as funghi, fagioli, salad and chips, for crying out loud! Personally Frank and I were not impressed with the baccala - too fishy.
That was our day really. My loose comfortable jeans are now beginning to look like jeggings....such as is VERY common here in bella Italia..and might I say on backsides and legs probably not meant for tight tight tight jeans..... But trust me no-one of any age group wears comfortable jeans here!
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| Trattoria Al Buso |
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| The Italian sauage from last night, split and fried - delicious |
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