La Bella Sardegna

A beach in Sardinia; the water an exquisite aquamarine.

I spent the first month in Milan settling into our apartment and my new married life.  Vincent was working for the American Appraisal Company doing industrial appraisals.  He had a lot of work in and around Milan but some of his jobs took him out of town.  I accompanied him to Genoa for a few days on the Mediterranean and spent a week in Spoleto.  This town is known for its international art festival which takes place in June.  But this was March and it was cool and rainy.  I wasn’t able to enjoy the sights.

A view of Spoleto and its acquaduct.

During the Spring months, I was preparing for my Master’s Exam in French Literature. I was buried under in study notes, text books and copies of Lagarde et Michard. I had completed the course work the previous fall.  The plan was that I would return to Evanston, Illinois in late May to take the exams.

This series of books are a compendium of French Literature.

In March I learned I was pregnant, a happy surprise.   I was not feeling well and I was incredibly tired.  So after trying to work at my desk and feeling nauseated,  I lay down on the bed with a textbook propped on my knees.  But the next thing I knew I was fast asleep.  For a few weeks it was a constant battle.  

In late May, I traveled to Northwestern University and passed my written and oral exams.  Later in life I would be glad I had completed the degree. Shortly after I returned to Milan, we took off for Sardinia.

Sardinia to the West of mainland Italy, is the 2nd largest island in the Mediterranean after Sicily.

Vincent was assigned to appraise a petrochemical plant near Sassari.  We had a room in a resort-hotel on the coast.  We were there for a  about a month.  Vincent went off to work each day and I hung out at the hotel.  What a lucky girl!  I was grateful for the time to relax after studying for 4 months.

Our hotel was a vacation destination for the British.  Each week a new group of vacationers would arrive.  At that time there were financial constraints on travel for British citizens.  They were required to pay for their vacation upfront at home.  I believe there was a worry that too much money was pouring out of the country.

The tourists arrived at the hotel on the Saturday, pale and washed-out.  Two days later, they were bright red from the sun and sea breezes.  Each night they went nuts in the Disco, dancing and drinking.  I spent time on the beach, went water-skiing, read novels and took naps.  Each week, I made some short-term friends.

A View of Sassari

One Saturday we went to Sassari to visit the town.  On a street corner, we asked a man where the post office was located.  He had black hair, a swarthy complexion and brilliant blue eyes.  His coloring was reflective of Sardinia’s rich history.  It had been taken over by the Romans, the Vandals, the Spaniards, the Arabs and the Austrians to name a few. The fellow was an attractive mix of all these cultures.

He accompanied us to the post office and then gave us a short tour of the town.  After a stop for an espresso, he invited us to his apartment to meet his wife.  They were a young couple about our ages and we spent several weekends with them and their family.  Let’s call them Maria and Roberto.  Maria’s father was the local tax collector.  Need I say more?  He had a very nice apartment. Definitely a big man around town. We were invited there for dinner a couple of times.

A heavenly Sardinian Beach.

However what I remember the most was a Saturday picnic on a beautiful beach in a hidden cove.  Maria and Roberto were there with their brothers, sisters and assorted children.  For the first course of the meal, Roberto’s 12 year old brother took me by the hand and led me out into the rocky water.  We were wearing rubber beach shoes.  He was carrying a knife.  When we were out a ways the boy bent down and with his knife dislodged some shell fish which he cracked open and slurped out of the shell.  Then he opened one for me.  We ate several sea urchins and bivalves, our feet in the crystalline Mediterranean. That had to be the freshest sea food I have ever consumed.

After this sojourn in Sardinia, we went briefly back to Milan and then to Paris where we would spend a couple of months.  Vincent had an appraisal job there.  We invited Maria and Roberto to come for a week.  It was the first time they had ever left the island of Sardinia.  At home, they were big fish in a little pond.  But Paris overwhelmed them.  It was too big, too busy, too cosmopolitan. They were lost. 

I remember that they didn’t like the food or the wine.   However what they missed the most was some good broth!  We think of Italians and their pasta and pizza; but flavorful broth is also essential to happiness.

Here is a recipe for Stracciatella Alla Romana.  It is considered a special Christmas soup, but it is a simple heart-warming dish to enjoy anytime.  The essential is some really flavorful homemade broth. 

Stracciatella Alla Romana

Ingredients:

1 quart of delicious low-sodium broth

3 eggs 

1/2 cup grated parmigiano reggiano

1/3 cup dried breadcrumbs.

Salt and Pepper

Chopped parsley

Preparation:

Bring the broth to a boil.  Beat the eggs, parmigiana and bread crumbs together in a bowl until thoroughly mixed.  When the broth is boiling slowly pour in the egg mixture and beat with a wire whisk or a fork.  You want the eggs to break up into thin strands.  Boil for a couple of minutes. Taste and add salt and pepper to your taste.  Sprinkle in the parsley and serve.