Food I'll miss the most: PIZZA

Thinking about the food I'll miss the more once back to France, only Pizza (and maybe icecream) come to my mind. I already talked about my pasta experience, but I never talked about my 2 years long relationship with pizza…

In France, I may eat pizza once a month, and most of the time, it’s because I do it by my own. In Italy, it happened I ate pizza twice a day: I KNOW, this is crazy.  

In France, pizzas are expensive and even if I live in a town where you can find probably more than 30 pizzerias just along the river, it’s almost impossible to find one cooking them properly. Most of the time, the crust looks like crepe, they put industrial tomato sauce, and greasy emmental. When you eat pizza in France, you feel like getting bread with it because they put too many stuff on it…

In Italy, you can find pizza everywhere and all style. Never go in a bakery at lunch time if you're starving or you will feel like buying  5 different types of slices. In Italy, the dough is awesome. The tomato sauce as well, and the mozzarella, gives an amazing taste to the pizza. It does not feel greasy, it’s tasty. Most of the time, I was prefering eating pizza cause I was considering it healthier than meat and veggies that were drowning in olive oil…  Mozzarella with pepperoncino flakes and rucola was my favourite.  Simple but good. I would have loved finding goat cheese pizza but there, it was not really possible. In brief,  I had so many pizzas in Italy that it probably became the bottom of my food pyramid… 

I remember one of my last days, I brought an Italian friend to a napolitan place, she told me it was probably the best pizza she ever had, I was so proud, I had become a pizza expert,  I knew the places where we could get litteraly pizzas orgasms.

And if ever it was not about napolitan style, I could always impress with quantity. Once, I went to a place where you can get meters of pizzas… Another concept, called giropizza, was to pay a fixed price and then you get all you can eat pizza until you can’t, the rule being: the table had to finish all the pizzas brought... aweful... I remember as well bringing a friend to a place where the pizza were more than 40cm diameter, the guy sitting next to us said to my friend: “here, they do the biggest pizza in the world !” my friend, thinking “why Italians have to think they always have the best/biggest…” well for pizza, I actually don’t care :-)

Before leaving, I went one last time to a pizzeria I was coming often when I was a student. It was a while I haven’t been there so the guy was really happy to see me. Once again, like everywhere in Italy, it was not about take away pizza, it was about getting an augmented product/service. The guy was nice, they made me a heart shape pizza as they used to do for me in the past. Such tiny positive things that contribute to make your day… And all this for 4euros with a coke… I know this is crazy (again). 

Pizza was my favorite food in Italy and for sure I’ll have to come back to get some. 

Evening metro

The other day I took the metro in Paris: only sad depressive faces, no hope. I had forgot that each time I take the metro there, people look like "about to commit suicide". I then remembered how kind of funny it was to take transportation in Milan, there was always someone that would speak too loud so you could have fun while listening. One of my favourite topic, was around 7.30pm when the mums were at the phone telling their children/husband to be patient or they could always find food in the fridge. It was like if the mum was the god of the food, the only one able to feed her family and that if ever she was late back from work, a catastrophe would happen and the family would have to quest for ready made food... Mums were: “there is this ... from yesterday or you can get some salame or there are eggs and pancetta, you can prepare some pasta”. You could feel the guilt in their voice. Most of the time, they were always with another girl friend, trying to help (or not) by giving ideas of quick recipes. I was finding this incredible, how women are still considered as the one that has to cook for all. Why do they still feel this guilt? So far, guys have hands and should be able to cook as well. Is it at church on Sundays that we teach them to be a good wife and supply good home made meals to their family otherwise they stand for failure/shame of their home ?!!! 

Anyway, even if Italy is not a feminist country for sure, in 2 years in Milan I never experimented such sadness in public transportation than in Paris. Each time I go there, I have the feeling of being in death row, and for sure, this is a failure of our french (parisian) society...

Leaving Italy: merchandising and design...

Last week end, while I was walking in Milan, paying attention to every details, so I could capture them forever in my mind, I was trying to understand why I loved so much this town and what I’ll be missing once back to France.

For example, each time I have to think about Paris, "show off and cold" come to my mind. On the contrary, I consider Milan “boiling” and trendy without being bossy. You can feel humility in the postwar constructions, acting like imperfection stains in the middle of the historic architectural palaces. The roads, poorly maintained, sometimes dirty, contrast with the beauty of showrooms and palaces. 

Milan is not about doing it big, it’s not like striking by being overwhelming, nothing compared to Times Square or Dubai for example. Milan is about surprising even in the tiny places you would never expect. 
I’ve been trying to figure out why even the smallest shop in Milan is cool. OK, I understand it’s a bigger town than the one where I’ve been raised, though I like thinking that Italians are different and can't consider experimenting a place without design, that it's part of their culture. When you know as well, that you have more architects in Italy than in the rest of Europe, you ‘re in a way increasing the proportion of having the right "connections" to setup your place or to have out of the box/cool ideas….

Living in Milan for me, was like having the feeling of being in a bubble, where merchandising would meet design and art. Every week, taking the bus and passing in front of COIN 5Giornate windows displays was a bit like my treat, each time I was wondering which crazy idea they would have come up with that time…

This is part of the things I will probably miss the more: in Milan, shops are not about selling a product, they re about selling an experience. Same for the restaurants or the bars (when you skip the more traditionalist), you go there and it’s a bit like a game, if you’re paying attention to details, you will discover small “gifts” that were left while doing the layout of the place. The other day, I went to Pasta Madre restaurant in Porta Romana, I found the place awesome, the clothes hanger was made with kitchenware, the door handle was made with a trowel. When I took a picture of the ceiling made of recycled carton roll, one of the customers started watching up and suddenly discovered this detail. 
It's about watching and observing.In an era, where we promote the 5 senses experience and eco sustainable design, eating or shopping in a surprising and enjoyable place, is enhancing your customer experience. You may be conscious of it or not, but even if don’t pay attention to it, no need to be a design expert to feel the wellness associated. That is what is transforming any customer experience into a nice one...

Calder style using small tables at Cassina

other examples (links): 
DADA meeting point merchandising
Replay Milano

Coffee at the counter...

Yesterday, while I was having my coffee at the counter, it came to my mind that it was probably one of the last time I was drinking a coffee in a bar  in Italy. I had a look around me, listened to the noise of the plates and cups extracted of the dishwasher, saw the guy managing perfectly all his actions to make 2, 3, 5 coffees at the same time (in a minimum of gesture). I noticed the old boiserie,  the smell of the coffee, the guy knowing by heart each customer preference and I thought how funny it was, that morning coffee had became one of my favourite daily routine, whereas when I arrived, I was finding it stressful. I remember how weird it was for me to see people getting their “shot” of coffee and leaving. 

In France, we have the tradition of seating to sip our coffee. I remember as well how I started loving that moment, like if every morning, when I was getting up, I was having my injection of Italian culture before starting the day. It was not anymore about considering this moment as drinking a coffee alone and in a hurry, no, it was like if I had finally discovered the Italian secret: the art of getting a concentrate of social life mixed with caffeine energy in less than 3 minutes… It was about small pleasures, and for this, no need of the volume of an American coffee…

Leaving Italy: one of those morning moments...

This morning, still in my “Im leaving Milan soon” mindset, I had the most amazing walk. In 10 min, I saw a guy staring at me (from the tits to the butt), a old lady wearing fur coat  and carrying  her fashion tiny chiwawa dog  (yes we can kill mink but dogs are like babies..), a guy checking that the chrome of his motorbike was OK, after his girlfriend fell while trying to jump on it (why should we check if the girl is ok too ?…). I arrived then at the level of road works, there the 5 working men were working while watching all the girls going around. I thought, this is amazing, this is I.T.A.L.Y. Even if I have to be honest, cause I probably never paid so much attention in my own country, the fact that it’s striking me even after 2 years, means the overall culture is different. Italy is like a SHOW (for people like the French)… And either you  laugh about it or you hate it….

Milano Cimitero Monumentale

Working in the area, and knowing I was about to leave Milano, one day I finally escaped during “pausa pranzo” to visit Cimitero Monumentale.

I’m not really into visiting cemetery and taking pictures of graves, I find it weird and voyeurist.  But that day, my curiosity won, everybody was keep talking about it, I could not leave Milano without visiting it...

Without knowing, I probably picked the best moment of the year to do it: with All saints, graves were covered by flowers and the winter light of midday was giving a strange ambiance…

I have to admit I would have never imagined what I saw, I was expecting big but not so crazy insane big. This cemetery is like a Versailles for dead people, even if  I would consider it more like a Disneyworld: every famous “name” has its own doll house and tried to make it the most appealing. So walking in the alley, you go from the egyptian pyramid, the greek temple, roman architecture, Indian influence small palaces to very modern structures.

 

Initially it has been build mid 19^th century to gather all the small cemeteries of Milan and a lot of famous people are buried there. But I experimented it as a completely megalomaniac place. It reminded me UBU ROI from Alfred Jarry, where a ridiculous image is given to "fame and power" greedy people, afraid of death cause nobody will remember them, and so try to find a way of leaving a trace.

While I was walking there, I tried to focus only on architecture, to avoid the discomfort left by watching graves. Yet, the sculptures on the graves have been made to catch the eyes, they are everywhere, big, in bronze, scary. Even the sun or the flowers, don’t manage to give them a quiet and peaceful attitude, it’s even worse, they become surrealist. You can’t avoid feeling the pain everywhere: the sculptures are standing for people praying in the pain, skeletons, death metaphor… Like if each time you have to think about dead people you have to feel guilty and bad. I’m not saying death is not a big deal, I’m just saying I prefer to keep a positive souvenir of the people I met and are dead, more than feeling about to commit suicide cause, me, I’m still here. I remember visiting a cemetery during all saints in Morne à l'eau in Guadeloupe, the graves were giving you a healthy feeling. They had lighted candles everywhere, and the warmth of the candles was giving a positive/joyful atmosphere. A good way to remember people you used to know, nothing compared to the traditionalist “ I have to whip myself cause I have to feel pain of death”…

A DOG LIFE

The other day, while I was under the rain, walking in the streets, I noticed several  dogs wearing jackets and I thought “ahh right it’s winter, I had forgot… dogs wear clothes in Italy during winter.”

Actually, when I arrived in Italy, it’s been one of the first things that stroke me: the Italian dog icon.

I may be wrong but I have the feeling that Italians have a special relationship with their dogs. Dogs are like an extension of themselves, like “cool” accessories. You watch the dog and it gives you an idea of which identity/image the owner wants to give of him. Getting the wrong dog or the wrong dog’s outfit and you gave a wrong idea of you. OK I may exaggerate but I’m sure I’m not that far from reality.

It didn't take me hours analyzing the phenomenon to understand that dogs have  either to be small/ cute or need to be in 2, like if,  having a pair (like a pair of earings), was a sign of breeding quality race and hence luxury goods.

As I mentioned earlier, they need as well to wear clothes during winter, I think I will never forgot the day I saw a guy with a Montcler jacket and his dog wearing a mini one, awesome. 

I saw so many petshops with “nice” outfits, there is a real business there, I mean at the end why fashion should be only for human beings? dogs must be cold as well… Honestly, I don’t know. I hesitate between finding it ridiculous or shameful since a lot of homeless can’t even wear proper clothes during winter.

The other trend  I did notice is to have a dog pooh bags stock on the leash, this means you re conscious that its really not nice to have dirty side walks and to slalom between dog poohs. 

Still, that does not seem to erase the problem, the first apartment I was living in, was located in an area where all the dogs where just coming to poop. I keep reminding the billboard in front of the school saying: “please this is a kindergarden, have your dog poop somewhere else” but I guess Italians were refusing to read it. 

I'd like to mention though, I haven’t been the only one shocked by this behaviour and that tried to understand it. I read an article once, written by a British, he was wondering why Italians are able to have so beautiful interiors (and be maniac with cleaning) but once they’re outside, don’t care about turning the space filthy…