Virzi', The First beautiful thing- review

Hallelujah, a contemporary Italian director has made a really good movie. They said it couldn't be done! But ole Paolo Virzi' has gone and done it. Not a masterpiece, mind you, but definitely a quality film that will be of broad appeal.

So you think that, although Italy as a society and as a state is a mess, the Italian family is a bulwark, a sunny oasis of love and stability? You should know better than that. Here is the story of a chaotic family over a period of about four decades, starting in 1971 (it may not be a coincidence that this year was the year divorce was finally legalized in Italy, a hotly contested watershed in its history).

The movie moves back and forth between the past and present, with the fine cinematography making it easier to negotiate the rapid back and forth (warm sepia-like tones for the distant past, cooler colors with a lot of blue for the present). Bruno is a disenchanted high school teacher with a drug problem and commitment issues. He is forcefully brought by his sister from Milan to see their dying mother in the hospice in Livorno, his hometown. This evokes an upheaval of memories and forces him to come to terms with his family history, including letting go of the ever-popular blaming-your-parents-indefinitely-for-your-fuckups. In a moment of humor, he and his sister as adults meet a previously unknown half-brother whom they would like to introduce to his real (their) mom. Bruno says: "She ruined my life, she ruined my sister's life, if you meet her, she could ruin yours, too."

My Italian mother remarked long ago that those who say they've been messed up by their parents should remember that these parents could say the same about their own parents, too, in an infinite regress. In fact, in a surprise twist at the end, Bruno's sister veers off unexpectedly into "deviance" herself, setting her children and husband up for some serious pain. Does Bruno ever come out of his funk? Well, watch closely at the end (you might miss this) when the addict takes a long look at his mother's morphine drip and takes a pass.

(in the photo, Stefania Sandrelli, who plays the mother as an old woman, in her splendid youth)

Best panettone

I went looking online and found two Italian consumer publications from recent years that review panettone. Both came up with the Tre Marie brand as their number one choice.

The first source, Altroconsumo, stated in 2010 that only Tre Marie (as an industrial and not artisanal product), measured up to their exacting criteria, all the others failed. In 2009, another publication, Il Salvagente, also gave Tre Marie a number one ranking, but also gave high marks to Motta, the most famous brand.

I can't personally substantiate these results, as I've never had the brand. Actually I prefer pandoro.

Urbani white truffle and porcini sauce

Who can resist truffles and/or porcini mushrooms? Not me.

So today, being in the mood for self-indulgence, I acquired this small (6.1 ounces) can of white truffle and porcini cream sauce. It didn't come cheap, of course; it set me back thirteen dollars.

But it was delicious right out of the can onto the pasta (Delverde tagliatelle), with a bit of extra salt and freshly-ground black pepper. The can is enough for two medium-small portions of pasta. It can also be used on bread, crostini and according to the producer itself, with meat or fish. But I would limit myself to the first two options.

Urbani is a well-established company based in Umbria, but has had a presence in New York for over a year now. Their site is here.

Trader Joe's artichoke ravioli- review

These are large, flat rectangles, closer to ravioloni (big ravioli) than regular ravioli (by the way, never say "raviolis," the word is already plural.) They're filled with an artichoke/cheese/olive mixture.

Let's cut to the chase. They were good, but not great. Not a big fat artichoke taste, which is something of a disappointment, as artichokes are my favorite veggie. The price was good, as is so often the case at Trader Joe's. I don't know where the receipt is so I can't tell you exactly how much. I think you would need a package per person if serving as a main course.

I prepared mine with butter and real parmigiano. I would avoid a richer sauce or a tomato sauce as they would overpower the flavor of the stuffing.

The package also gives intructions to stir often. Better to cover instead after they have reached a gentle boil so as not to risk breaking the shell. Drain well.

Worth a try.

De Sica, Sciuscia'- review

Let me say right off that this doesn't measure up to other De Sica classics like The Bicycle Thief or Umberto D. But how many movies can measure up to those? Practically none.

Having gotten that out of the way, I watched this last night, courtesy of my Netflix subscription. It is the story of two young boys in Rome in early adolescence who are sciuscia', or shoeshine kids, in this case for the Allied forces who were still in Rome shortly after the war. They're great pals, the small one and the bigger one. Their dream, which they come very close to achieving, is to buy a horse with the profits from their subservient labor. But they also, through no fault of their own, get caught up in the thriving black market, and are taken to juvenile detention. What follows is a Dickensian tale of child abuse and a denouncement of adults' callousness and unfairness toward youth, and the vulnerable in general.

You will recognize in this De Sica's angry and disconsolate world view. I find that it is an antidote to what many Italians like to believe when they say si stava meglio quando si stava peggio, that is, we were better off when we were worse off. I personally see no redeeming social value in poverty, as the great Dickens realized. The world was just as rotten then, with all sorts of physical privations and hardships to boot.

A note: Franco Interlenghi, the bigger boy, who has an unusually pleasant face, went on to have an important career in movies, including with Fellini in I Vitelloni. The other young actor did not.

Giordano, The Solitude of prime numbers- review

Many people were probably first attracted to this novel by its intriguing title. And for once an unusual title isn't a gimmick to gain attention, but a meaningful albeit abstruse metaphor that holds up throughout the work. Actually it's what is known in literature as a "conceit," that is, an extended metaphor.

Our mathematically-inclined young author, who knows English well, may have been struck by the fact that in English "odd" can refer both to numbers not divisible by 2 and to things and especially people who are strange, who don't fit in. From there he may have elaborated the metaphor of prime numbers (divisible only by themselves and 1) as mathematical misfits, all prime numbers being odd numbers except for 2 (I looked it up). He further develops the idea by refining it to include twin primes, prime numbers that are separated by only one even number e.g. 17 and 19, but become increasingly rare as one counts upwards.

Are you getting the uncomfortable feeling that you're back in high school? Well, you won't if you read this novel. He carries all this off splendidly. Alice and Mattia are followed over the course of years from childhood to adulthood, and they are our twin primes. Both are scarred, literally and emotionally, by early events. Brilliant Mattia actually had a twin, who unlike him was mentally backward. His strong urge to belong, to not be odd, leads him to abandon her one day in the park so that he can go to a party as a "normal" person. The sister disappears forever without a trace, paradoxically leaving Mattia more odd and isolated than ever, as he isn't even paired with his biological twin anymore.

Can Mattia and Alice become two, which is a prime number but not odd? At the height of their relationship, budding photographer Alice has them dress as a married couple and takes a snapshot. But tragically, Giordano implies (correctly I think) that people who come together because of deficiencies or wounds are not coming together on a solid, healthy basis. The metaphor of the twin primes also cues us to the fact that they are necessarily apart. The subtle ending of the book does offer some glimmer, not of optimism, but of the idea that even deeply damaged people can go on, and like the crippled Alice, get up by herself, or like Mattia, see the dawn in a new country.

(In the photo, writer and physicist Paolo Giordano, looking very cute)

Cideb- excellent foreign language materials

If I were a student of foreign languages, I would certainly make a small investment in the materials put out by this small, specialized Italian publisher, Cideb.

Of special interest are their series of graded readers (see one in the inset). Graded readers are very useful tools for those who are trying to master a language. They are specially composed in what is known as controlled language, which is appropriate to a certain skill level in terms of vocabulary and grammar. You start at your own level, then read as many little books as you like, then proceed to the next level, and so on. The aim is to get you to the top level, after which, like a little bird kicked out of the nest to fend for itself, you can attempt to read the natural language.

Cideb readers are very well-made, including their physical and graphic aspect. They come with an audio CD of the text, spoken by native speakers, including sound effects. There is a complete range of interesting exercises and activities to accompany the story. The prices are reasonable.

Materials are available in English, German, French, Spanish and Italian.

Disclosure- I have no relation with the purveyors of any product or service reviewed on this blog, including the above products.

Valeria Parrella- For Grace Received

So I've finally gotten around to reading Valeria Parrella, whom I'd been meaning to check out for at least a year now. The difficulty always comes in obtaining materials in Italian. This time I went ahead and read the translation (which I hate to do), but fortunately it was a good translation (by Antony Shugaar, an author himself). The book is published in the States by Europa, which puts out a number of foreign authors in English.

Parrella is a Neapolitan woman (born in Torre del Greco, actually) who has become an established author and actress. The book For Grace Received grabbed me immediately, which is generally not the case with contemporary literature. It is a slim collection of four short stories, but it speaks the proverbial volumes about Naples today. Which is pretty much like Naples yesterday; possibly worse. For example, the old cigarette contraband has given way to drug dealing.

Her work is engaging both because it exudes realness and because she is a skilled storyteller. The overall semi-hideous portrayal of Naples is lightened by black humor, as when illegal printers refer to the overflowing number of books they have around the shop as "Anne Franks," or when a man tells his refined, bourgeois married lover that her four-year-old daughter is probably already a drug runner for the Camorra, and wishes that she was still in diapers, because diapers come in handy for drug dealing.

Not all of the situations are specific to Naples, or the South. The story that gives the collection its title refers to the fact that the protagonist's mother lights a candle in church to thank the saints or whoever that her daughter (a summa cum laude grad) got a job in a shop, a job with benefits. Unemployment, underemployment and exploitation of the young is rampant in Italy. To top it off, our highly educated sales clerk is visited one day by her professor and thesis adviser, who had ripped off the second part of her thesis and published it under her own (the professor's) name. This, too, happens in Italy.

To sum up, Parrella seems to share the bitter opinion of her fellow Neapolitan, the great actor and playwright Edoardo De Filippo. In reference to the native city he knew so well and described in his works, he had one word to say: fujitevenne. Meaning "get the hell out." As he said this decades ago, Parrella's update on the situation of that beautiful city bears him out.

Recommended.

De Cecco spinach linguine- review

Although I rarely if ever buy flavored pasta, yesterday for some reason I got some spinach linguine from De Cecco. Probably because they were out of the regular spaghetti, a staple for me, and also because I remembered I had some leftover ricotta I could use with it.

While tasting for doneness, I noticed that it had practically no spinach flavor. In the meantime I prepared a simple sauce of melted butter, the ricotta, snipped fresh chives, freshly ground nutmeg and salt. I finished the cooking as directed and drained the linguine. In the colander they did smell of spinach. I then emptied the pasta briefly into the pan with the warm sauce, and mixed.

Alas, the spinach taste had disappeared again. Even worse, despite having been properly prepared, the pasta was not al dente, it was downright gummy. It's possible that adding additional ingredients to pasta interferes with the final texture.

This will probably be the last time I buy flavored pasta.

Diario di una studentessa matta sucks

In order to consolidate my reputation as a crusty curmudgeon, I'd like to trash a rather popular blog by one Melissa Muldoon, called Diario di una studentessa matta, which is also dedicated to Italy.

The Melissa in question writes adequately for an Italian learner but should not be writing in Italian for the public where many non-Italians will think that this will help their Italian. Her posts are chock full of errors. There is no reason for people to use this as a resource to improve their Italian when there are so many other valid materials, online and offline. I love the Internet, but this is the kind of thing that gives it a bad name for some- no reputable publisher would publish her as a writer of Italian.

I also intensely dislike her starry-eyed, phony view of Italy, which, again, is a disservice to those who would really like to be informed about the country. Italy, and the rest of the world, are not Disneyland. Oh, and that brings to mind the execrable Elizabeth Gilbert and her Eat Pray Love, an exemplification of the American female who thinks the world is just another consumer product for her enjoyment.

I'm so turned off by this that I've decided to remove from my sidebar the logo from an award I received that Muldoon also received, as it is apparently not credible.

Ancora sul recente libro di Bill Emmott

La settimana scorsa ho scritto una piccola recensione, chiamiamola cosi', sul recente libro di Bill Emmott, Forza, Italia. L'autore ha mostrato di non aver gradito il mio piccolo post, e di non gradire me personalmente, nelle mail che mi ha mandato. Ha definito cio' che ho scritto come "diatribe", e alla faccia del sangue freddo inglese e dell'understatement, mi sembra che si sia incazzato di brutto e me ne voglia parecchio.

Questo mi ha spinto a dare un'occhiata piu' approfondita al testo per difendere la mia valutazione negativa.

Avevo scritto che la spinta iniziale, la guida al suo viaggio in Italia alla ricerca della Buona Italia, era come lui stesso ci dice, un'organizzazione che si chiama RENA (Rete per l'Eccellenza Nazionale). Questa viene definita da lui come "nata da poco" ed e' "un piccolo gruppo, con risorse limitate" (pagina 12). Da vera americana che si chiede sempre da dove arrivano i soldi, sono andata a cercare i sostenitori, e li ho trovati qua. Il primo sostenitore? Banca UniCredit. Vi sembra "un piccolo gruppo, con risorse limitate" quando il primo sponsor e' UniCredit? A me no.

E non finisce qui. Avevo gia' detto che andare a cercare la vera Italia usando un ente che ha lo scopo di diffondere l'eccellenza mi sembrava poco obiettivo. Poi vado a ritrovare alle pagine 150-156 che porta ad esempio della Buona Italia (categoria etica, metafisica per lui) ... la Banca UniCredit. Ma si puo'? Fa l'elogio di Alessandro Profumo, ex AD di UniCredit. Ma non e' stato licenziato l'autunno scorso Profumo? Non e' stato lui a dare una partecipazione del 7,6% della banca alla Libia? Non e' stato indagato per bancarotta l'AD del maggior azionista, Paolo Biasi?

No, perche' a sua volta (da direttore di The Economist) Emmott fu Il Grande Fustigatore di Silvio Berlusconi (che non ammiro per niente, sia chiaro), inadatto a guidare l'Italia per i suoi conflitti d'interesse. E Bill Emmott ci scrive un libro guidato da un'organizzazione che prende soldi da UniCredit? E poi loda UniCredit? E ammette anche di essere stato pagato da UniCredit per presiedere al convegno e presentare il suo studio "da osservatore indipendente" (pagine 154-155). Ma vogliamo scherzare? Ti pagano per fare l'osservatore indipendente. Ma in quale universo. Da quale pulpito.

Non sto neanche a dire delle volte che Emmott si compiace dell'ospitalita' e dei servizi gratuiti ricevuti da varie persone/enti del paese che dovrebbe valutare. Fra cui RENA (pagina 12-13: "mi hanno perfino scortato, guidando per centinaia di chilometri, nutrendomi con ottimo cibo, ottimo vino...".) E lo dice anche. Recentemente, nel mio paese, gli Stati Uniti, la potente lobby medica ha cercato di auto-regolarsi e mettere fine ai conflitti d'interesse fra medici e sponsor (le ricchissime ditte farmaceutiche), che fornivano pasti, oggetti, e vacanze pagate ai medici. Emmott le capisce queste cose?

La credibilita' del libro, gia' scarsa di suo, ne esce ancora peggio. Forse l'unico effetto positivo per gli italiani sarebbe ironicamente di constatare che non sono certo gli unici con qualche perplessita' etica.

Bill Emmott- Forza, Italia- a review

Bill Emmott, ex-director of the British weekly The Economist, has recently fallen under the spell of Italy, like so many of us before him. Unlike us, he's gone and written a book about it. Strangely, the book written by him, an Englishman, and read by me, an American, is in Italian (a translation). It hasn't been published in English yet.

Emmott admits to not having a lot of expertise regarding Italy, nor to a mastery of that lovely language, nor to having lived there. But this isn't going to stop him.

First of all, after telling us that he is a boring economist, he states that Italy's problem is philosophical, a battle between Good Italy and Bad Italy. Who's going to prevail? To find out, he relies on an organization named RENA (Rete per l'Eccellenza Nazionale), a sort of consortium of Italian groups and individuals dedicated to excellence. This is not playing fair, and in philosophy is known as begging the question. How many instances of Bad Italy are you going to find by asking an organization that focuses on excellence, which means superlative goodness?

Having informed us of the epic battle, he deluges us with facts and figures. He also bases his opinions on interviews with politicians, entrepreneurs and other movers and shakers. Does he expect leading politicians and entrepreneurs to tell a foreigner who is important in the media and who is writing a book about Italy that Italy is going to hell? Maybe that way he can further weaken Italy's credibility vis-a-vis other countries and discourage investments and purchase of Italian products.

There are many positive facets of Italy and many admirable Italians. What would you expect from one of the richest, most advanced countries of the world? It's obvious that there must be someone opposing the Mafia, someone innovating, someone holding out against the odds. But are they in the majority? Are they the wave of the future? He doesn't demonstrate this.

I think it's a fool's game to predict the future, but I can tell you that if Emmott had spoken to the man or woman in the street, he would have heard a very different story. This is the central flaw of the book. The average Italian is not optimistic about the future of his country, nor am I. There's a reason I don't live there anymore.

Galbani Mozzarella Fresca- a review

Last week I tried the Galbani fresh mozzarella, which I had never seen before in the US. I have been buying the American Belgioioso, which is good and which I recommended a few years ago, here.

Galbani is an old and glorious brand from Italy, which was started in the 19th century. When I was a kid in Italy I remember its advertising slogan, "Galbani vuol dire fiducia,"- Galbani means trust. Apparently though at a certain point they forgot the meaning of fiducia and were implicated in a food scandal, which I covered here. In the meantime, even more bizarre mozzarella mishaps, unrelated to Galbani, have occurred in Italy, including some blue mozzarella from Germany. As if it weren't bizarre enough that the Italians were importing mozzarella from Germany. And their renowned (and expensive) mozzarella di bufala is suspect because its provenance in Campania is among the most polluted areas in Italy, as I already informed you here.

Anyway. To make a long story even longer (mozzarella is my favorite cheese, it deserves all the attention), I intrepidly purchased the little tub of bocconcini, risking unexpected blueness, possible Germanness, sudden death. Fortunately, the label reassured me that it was made here in the US, and as you can see by the fact that I am writing this, I survived. At least a few days. The bocconcini in their liquid impressed me with their pleasantly irregular shape. The taste was fresh and the texture was an improvement over Belgioioso. Quite good. As the price was the same, if I remember correctly, I shall now be using Galbani as my mozzarella of choice. They also make mascarpone and ricotta, which I shall also try. But I intend to make my own ricotta soon- I'll keep you posted.

If you too are a risk-taker, here are my recipes for a real, essential Caprese salad and mozzarella in carrozza. Please also note that "mozzarella" is pronounced with an "oh" sound, not an "ah" sound. The latter is most unattractive.

Philly cooking creme- review

I was excited when I recently heard of this new product from Kraft because I thought it might finally be a source of Italian cooking cream (panna da cucina, see my original post here). While panna is often poo-pooed by the pretentious poo-bahs of Italian cuisine, I enjoy it greatly in moderation. Especially on tortellini with prosciutto, another item that is hard to find in the US.

So I bought the small container in the original flavor. Alas, disappointment awaited me. It was not like Italian panna. At any rate, I went ahead with my planned recipe of spaghetti with smoked salmon, and it was satisfactory, but I would not buy it again. I also found it rather too salty and the taste did not stand well on its own, as panna does (you can just eat it out of the container, yum).

Well today while I was downtown (Boston, Copley), they were giving out free samples. I said I wouldn't buy it again, but I won't turn down a free sample. I got two, which were savory garlic flavor. Better-tasting, but highly reminiscent of a sour cream and onion dip. Which is how I intend to use them. Thanks, Kraft.

The company is putting a lot of effort and money in promoting this new product, which they seem to hope will be a sort of new Philadelphia cream cheese. I don't really think it will have the general appeal of the latter, which is even well-liked in Italy. They are also suggesting that it be used in Italian cooking, with pasta, for example, but I would not advise its use if you like authentic Italian cuisine.

Scorsese, My Voyage to Italy-review

The other day was so damn cold that I decided not to budge from home. Fortunately, I had the two discs of Martin Scorsese's My Voyage to Italy on hand, so I settled in for the afternoon and watched all five hours.

This is a documentary the director made about his personal experience with classic Italian film (he goes no further than 1963), starting as a young Italian-American in New York. He goes into depth about Rossellini, De Sica, Visconti, Fellini and Antonioni. The commented scenes for the chosen movies are extensive. For the novice who has not seen these classics, there will be a problem with spoilers- you will know the plot and the ending of each film. If avoiding spoilers is important to you (it is to me), you should not watch this.

I would of course hesitate to challenge Scorsese in his assessment of technical prowess in filmmaking. But I was irritated by what I saw as an inexplicable overestimation of Roberto Rossellini, complete with a tone of breathless veneration when discussing his colleague. And his idea that neo-Realism was the "truth" is greatly misguided. Rossellini had an axe to grind, and how, as I've already stated in my review of Paisa'. Quite simply, the Roman director's view of Italy and the Italians in World War II misrepresents their role and shows it in a distorted light, flattering to his compatriots. It's almost as if the actions of the Allies were incidental, and the Italians liberated themselves by themselves. Not to mention the implicit idea that they had little or no responsibility to begin with. Lots of Italians still believe this, to this day. I was surprised that Scorsese fell for it.

Just when you thought that he had stopped with the Rossellini, he pops up again, with two works, Stromboli and A Voyage to Italy, both of which I have seen, and both of which I can do without. To bolster what he knows will be a minority opinion regarding the latter, he says that umpteen French directors and critics believed that the film was one of the best in film history. The French also think Jerry Lewis is a genius.

The disproportionate amount of time dedicated to RR could have been used to present directors such as Pasolini and Olmi. Generally, besides fleeting mentions, the five hours only cover the Big Five mentioned above. A major shortcoming. Italian filmdom is much bigger and complex than that.

So. The over-long documentary will be of interest primarily to those who admire Scorsese and want his own personal take on the Italian classics. I did not think that Scorsese shone as a film critic e.g. the comments on the notoriously difficult Antonioni were mediocre. Those who have not seen the major classics and do not want their viewing influenced by the director's opinions (and giving away of plot) can pass on this.

(In the photo, the little co-protagonist of The Bicycle Thief, who should have won an Oscar)

Trader Joe's mini almond biscotti- review

Finally. Some user-friendly biscotti.

Found these today at my local Trader Joe's, for 3.99 for 8 oz. Quite good. A friend who had been invited (reluctantly) to partake pronounced them the best biscotti he had ever had. He proceeded to have another, uninvited. I shall hide all cookies from him, forthwith.

They are made with almonds, which I can never resist. They are smaller than other biscotti and described as soft-bite. They are not as hard as your usual biscotto (the singular of biscotti!). But they can still be dunked with impunity! I speak from experience, as I submerged them in a glass of Sauvignon Blanc that I just happened to have around. Wonder how it got there. Chilled to the right temperature, too.

Remember that "biscotti" is plural and is pronounced with an -oh sound, not an an -aw sound (which I heard at the store as I was examining them). Also remember that "biscotti" simply means cookies in Italian, and the actual word is cantuccini (in Tuscany; then there are similar cookies in other regions with different names).

(In the photo, the famous cantuccini from Prato in Tuscany)

Trader Joe's Bolognese sauce- review

Earlier this month, in a fit of laziness and perhaps temporary insanity brought on by the approaching holidays, I bought some jarred pasta sauce, something I almost never do, and will probably never do again.

The culprit was Trader Joe's Bolognese "ragu di carne" sauce, described on the label as a "hearty meat sauce." Not true. It is primarily tomato puree with some micro-bits of ground beef just to justify the "meat pasta sauce" description. A true ragu' (and that has an accent, Joe) is more meat than tomato sauce (see picture). And I hate people who add sweeteners to their tomato sauce; in this case, cane juice. Not to mention that when you buy a jarred sauce, they usually don't make it with a quality olive oil. Here they used canola oil.

This may be adequate quality for some, perhaps on gnocchi or used to make a quick lasagna. The price is right at 2.99 for 24 oz., however, I had to add my own butter and parmigiano-reggiano to make it palatable, which brought up the cost-per-serving. All in all, a definite pass if you enjoy authentic Italian food.

Maybe Joe will make it his 2011 resolution to get his ragu' (with an accent) act together. Soon I'll be posting my own ragu' sauce recipe so he can see how it's done.

Roeg, Don't look now

If you've never seen this, a warning. Avoid reading anything else about it before you do see it (and you should), because many people (including critic Roger Ebert) just can't avoid spoilers. You want to maintain a rational, objective, unbiased state of mind. Just like our protagonist, Donald Sutherland.

But the real protagonist of the movie is Venice, as it should be. And particularly, Venice in the late fall/winter. If you've never been there, this will be a fine introduction, better than most travelogues. It brought me back to the Venice I first knew back in the early Seventies, which is when the film was shot.

Our film (based on a story by Daphne Du Maurier, who also wrote Rebecca and The Birds) concerns a loving married couple, Sutherland and Julie Christie, who lose their little daughter and are traumatized by the event. Sutherland plays a restoration specialist, and they subsequently go to Venice, where he is involved with the restoration of San Nicolo' dei Mendicoli (in the photo). This is a realistic touch, as the charity Venice in Peril really did restore the church (located in a far-flung area in Dorsoduro) in the Seventies. Christie (never more beautiful) meets two elderly British sisters, one of whom is blind and claims to be psychic. The blind woman speaks convincingly of the recently drowned daughter and claims that Sutherland himself is now in danger. But the rationalist Sutherland scoffs at all this. But then all sorts of things start to happen. Concluding in one of the more startling and effective endings I've seen.

The movie has fine direction by Brit Roeg (it was an Anglo-Italian production) whose early background in cinematography is put to good use. Keep an eye on the trail of red throughout the movie, from beginning to end, as if something implicit and ever-present were to become manifest. Fine acting all around, with a minor role by former Italian cinema heartthrob Massimo Serato as the bishop, still handsome at 57. And there's a wonderful love scene toward the beginning, expressive of the joy and satisfaction of a good relationship, as it skillfully entwines superior lovemaking takes with the couple's preparations to go out to dinner.

The movie is not about psychics and whether to believe them or not (I don't). It is about the fundamentally incomprehensible and mysterious nature of life, and the dangers that inhere in forgetting this. It will provoke thought about Venice and its attractions and symbolism, faith, rationality, hope, despair, death and love. A must see.

An Italian looks at WWII

Have you ever heard the expression "I can't say enough about x person or x thing"? Well, this is a case in point. Except that I can't say enough bad things about Roberto Rossellini's Paisa'.

The movie is part of a three-film Criterion collection, called The War Trilogy, somewhat pretentiously. The two other films are Rome: Open City and Germany, Year Zero. Both of which I had already seen. So I saw Paisa' last night, and I'm still angry. Seldom have I witnessed such bad faith in cinema, a medium I love and consider an art to all effects.

The film is a neo-Realist treatment of the Allies' advance up the Italian peninsula, from debarking in Sicily in 1943, on through Rome and central Italy, ending up along the Po river in the North. One word describes it all: anti-Americanism. With a dash of anti-British sentiment for good measure- to the extent that he considers the British at all, almost as if they had nothing to do with the liberation of Italy, as opposed to the uniformly heroic/modest/effective/salt of the earth partisans.

The story is told in six episodes. In two of the six episodes, one third of the movie, there are two GI protagonists who are so drunk that they literally fail to recognize Italians they previously had extensive dealings with. Besides drunkenness, the GIs are ungrateful to the helpful and cooperative populace (what happened to all the Fascists?) as in episode I, prejudiced and dismissive (calling the Italians Eye-ties and Paisan), corrupters of women (in six months, Roman women go from being sweet and innocent to being seasoned whores), coarse, loutish, and none too bright.

The only American who is positively portrayed is a Catholic chaplain who is being hosted in a monastery, where the monks are in crisis about the presence of two heathens in their midst, namely, a Protestant and a Jew. Especially (you guessed it) the Jew. The good(?) brothers decide to fast at their common meal for the salvation of the souls of the two heathens. The finale of the episode, which left me incredulous, has the Chaplain thanking the brothers for their lessons in serenity and peace and all that good stuff. Hell, I could be serene and peaceful if I lived in a monastery, too. How convenient for a bunch of males to live in a monastery in times of war. And how absolutely distasteful that Rossellini presents these anti-Semitic monks (and by extension, the Catholic Church) in an angelic light, exactly one year after Nazi-Fascism practically destroyed European Jewry. With the non-intervention of Pope Pius XII.

And what did the Brits do as the battle was raging? According to the middle episode, they sat on a hill with their binoculars observing Florence from a distance and chatting about its monuments in a snotty voice, as if they were tourists, while the Fascists and heroic partisans fought it out. Read: it was really the partisans who liberated Italy. Many, many Italians still believe this pathetic lie to this day.

And as if that slap in the face to perfidious Albion wasn't enough, a later episode has an American OSS man bark: "these people [the Italians] aren't fighting to defend the British Empire, they're fighting for their lives." Yes, folks, the Brits fought WWII as an imperialist war to defend their empire. And they never had to fight for their lives. Unless we wish to remember Hitler's Blitz in 1940-1941, when the Italians were still squarely behind Il Duce because they thought he might still win. Oh, and while we're at it, have we forgotten Mussolini and his (attempts at) empire and war-mongering? And make no mistake: most Italians were solidly behind Mussolini, just as most Germans were behind Hitler, his ally.

After I saw this incredibly dishonest and opportunistic film, which attempts to suck in spectators by its pseudo-realism and sentimentality, I looked at the director's bio. How did he get started in film? Why, he was a friend of Mussolini's son, Vittorio Mussolini. And he made Fascist propaganda movies. Plus ca change, Roberto.

(In the photo, a dumb, drunken, selfish, big GI with a clever, sober and noble little Italian)

My new mezzaluna

As announced a couple of weeks ago, I have gotten a new mezzaluna. I chose a Paderno brand 10-inch utensil, with a single blade of a steel-carbon alloy, and plastic ergonomic handles.

I have now received it and already used it three or four times, to my satisfaction. The blade is sharp, and the extra weight and length as opposed to my previous, smaller (and cheaper) one, makes for swift, efficient work. I chose the single blade because I like the look better, plus I read that double-bladed mezzalunas get food caught between the blades and are harder to sharpen. I would never use a single-handled mezzaluna.

Why get one of these rather than using a knife or a food processor? I've never used food processors, not even mini-choppers, for herbs or soffritto, or garlic and onion, all of which are very important in Italian cooking. As for the knife, the rocking motion of the mezzaluna is pleasing to me, not to mention safer. Ultimately, it is probably a subjective matter. I just like 'em, and feel that cooking should not be high-tech. I'm not on an assembly line or in an office when I'm in my kitchen. And I'm not a chef in a restaurant, with stringent time restraints.

I inaugurated it over the weekend with one of my comfort dishes, spaghetti with clams, which I usually make with a soffritto of onion, garlic and flat-leaf parsley. The next day I made another of my favorites, asparagus risotto, where I used it for the onion and parsley (minced separately.) I also used it to mince the remaining parsley, which I froze. In fact I intend to freeze more herbs now that I have this tool. I'll also keep some frozen battuto on hand.

The mezzaluna is also good for chopping nuts, and I'd like to make more dishes with those tasty, nutritious (but alas, expensive) little fellows. Next up: I'll be trying a pasta dish with mascarpone, nuts and parsley.