Perugia in 7 Bites: Eating in Italy

For our last activity in Perugia, we decided to take a food tour. It was run by an American woman living in Perugia, who was good, and the tour group was made up of us and about 7 Americans, including 4 who were friends of the tour guide, which was a bit weird to be honest. I mentioned this somewhere before on the blog, but one of them worked at Eately in New York and wouldn't stop comparing everything we were eating to which aisle it was sold on back in NYC.

But in general, the tour, which lasted 4 hours and took us to 7 locations to eat and drink around the city, plus a bit of sightseeing and history, was a fun way to spend the day.

Stop 1 - delicious thick hot chocolate (for me) and coffee (for everyone else) with pastries for breakfast

Stop 2 - cheese and proscuitto in an old cellar purportedly frequented by Perugino

Stop 3 - wine and olive oil tasting. It was surprising how grassy and peppery - and bright green - the olive oils were. We bought some at a discount

Stop 4 - truffles. Truffles aren't as bad as normal mushrooms, but that's about the best I can say about them. We went to eat truffle pasta AND to a truffle shop, which is entirely too much truffles if you ask me. The truffle shop, in particular, stank of them. But it was semi interesting hearing about how they find them. This box is apparently worth thousands

My generously-truffled pasta. It was... fine... but I really don't understand why anyone would pay top dollar for this. Tastes of nothing and the truffles scratched my throat on the way down

I evidently forgot to take a photo of our visit to the chocolate shop, where we tasted, amongst other things, balsamic vinegar-filled chocs, but you can't go to Perugia (home of the famous Baci chocolates) and not have chocolate so here's a bonus photo

This doesn't look like much, but it was my favourite treat of the tour. A warm "torta al testo", a local stuffed flatbread speciality filled with sausage and something green. Broccoli rabe? Kale? I forget

Last stop, gelato. Our guide assured us it was perfectly Italian to eat gelato twice a day

Some of the sights of the city we also saw on our walking tour:

Beam me up, Jesus

In the last post, I talked a little about the Rocca Paolina and the nice views from on top. We both completely missed that underneath is a maze of ancient and medieval squares and passageways. There is even an Etruscan gate. We would have completely missed it if not for the tour, duh. And we had the joy of one of our fellow tourists (one of those irritating "I'm Italian" American guys) asking the guide "is there some special symbolism in that sign?". It was one of these...

Lucky (move) number 13

So I worked out when preparing my "Decade in Review" that I've moved 13 times in the last ten years. Oof! In fairness, most of the early moves just involved me and as much stuff as I could carry (which, contrary to my father's nay-saying, was around 40 kilos). But on the other hand, all except two moves (in Tours and Brussels) have involved changing cities and/or countries. That is, how you say, a pain in the arse no matter how much stuff you have.

The most recent move was prompted by the boyfriend moving in last October. My old place was 45 sq metres (I think? Like my glasses prescription, this is something everyone else seems to know - for themselves - but I always forget), which was great for a single gal plus cat but not so much when Jules moved in and inconveniently insisted on bringing things like books and clothes with him.

So we gave notice just before our trip to NZ and once we got back the hunt was on to find a new place before the end of May. We actually only saw three places, ending up taking an apartment one street over from our old place. I would have liked having a direct transport link to work, but otherwise, we know and like the neighbourhood, so it made sense to stick with this area.

Plus the new place ticked pretty much all the other boxes. It's way bigger, a duplex (two floors) around 140 sq m (although a lot of space is lost to things like the stairs and the sloping roof on the top floor. Talking of which, a slopey roof was, unsurprisingly, not one of our requirements, but we are very pleased to be on the top two floors. As my sister can testify, in the old place a demon child lived above us who loved nothing more than to rampage up and down on our ceiling making as much noise as humanly possible. So now we get to be the ones annoying the downstairs neighbours, with no retribution. The third big problem with the old place was that it only had a small fridge with a freezer compartment. Even the motorhome we stayed in in New Zealand had a bigger fridge! It was a real pain having to shop basically every other day since we couldn't have much frozen food and anything big like a big bag of spinach basically took up 1/4 of the fridge space. Lastly, it met the terrace and bathtub requirements, so pretty much a home run.

New terrace. On, like, the only sunny weekend this summer, in which we spent 90% of the time indoors moving house

Finally, a move with a furniture lift! I'm so easily impressed

Bob surveying the empty (old) apartment. He has been a super trooper with the move! Even knew how to go up and down the stairs from day one!

 A bigger place meant more furniture, so we have spent the last couple of months busily shopping at IKEA and assembling our purchases. We had the idea to get a nice mid-century sideboard and found a few in antique shops that were gorgeous (and expensive!) but we didn't get our act together to buy one before the move, and then afterwards there would be the problem of how to get it into the apartment. It would basically mean hiring a lift, with all the hassle and the expense that involves. So, sadly, we stuck with our all-IKEA decor since that, at least, we can haul up the narrow stairs ourselves.

The light in the kitchen was the worst. Ugly as hell and hung down too low

We switched it out and added extra bench space - the right-hand side is all new, from IKEA (I'm sorry I didn't take a before picture of the kitchen, because this was where we made probably the biggest change)

Then the finishing touch (almost, there's a couple of bits and pieces we still haven't sorted out) was the long-awaited arrival of a few boxes of things from New Zealand. Mostly books and a few paintings, this was stuff I'd left behind 7 years ago when moving to Europe. I'm so excited to have all my old university books back, many with notes and highlights, all reminding me of my student days. I don't tend to over-sentimentalise books too much (it irritates me if you see some craft project using books online, like a découpage or something, and all the comments are HOW DARE YOU DESECRATE THIS BOOK? Yeah, this mass-market paperback of which a billion copies exist. It's not a sacred object. End rant) but yeah, my uni books are still special to me!

It was like Christmas when all my stuff arrived from NZ

The finished product

I still dream of a room with floor-to-celing built-in bookcases. But a wall of Billys (already full!) is a start

My (and Jules's) preciouses

The week of the move, we had just come back from Berlin (I swear, I can't move without sticking an international trip in the mix, just to stress myself out), and that weekend was also the Brussels Food Truck festival. The evening before M-Day, we snuck out after a full day of packing to get some fresh air and sunshine and conveniently have dinner without needing any of our packed-away utensils. Win win! This year, for security reasons, it was held in the Park Royale - which was actually great on a hot day, with plenty of shade and grass to lounge about on.

It was a popular event on a Friday evening

Jules tucks in

Peko peko was one of our favs from last year

Wine and some sort of fried cheese-chorizo lollipop makes a happy Gwan

This is actually a different park. But another nice day (rare)

So, as moves go, #13 was relatively stress-free. It's been fun decorating and fixing up the place and we're pretty happy so far. Signed a three-year lease, so long may that continue!

A tale of two towns

After our heroic morning scaling small gravelly paths near glaciers, we drove to Wanaka, where we stayed for two nights, mainly just chilling out. It’s a nice place to do so, with plenty of cool bars, cafés and restaurants, a relaxed vibe, and of course, a pretty lake ringed with mountains. I also came across Glowing Sky, a clothing company that actually makes their clothes in NZ (a rarity these days). Their main product line is merino wool, but I was drawn in by the brightly-coloured dresses they had in the window. I ended up buying four in the same "Marilyn" cut, but with different colours and patterns. Very pleased with my purchase, look out for them on the blog soon and keep an eye out for the brand if you're in NZ!

We had an annoying group of 20-somethings across from us on the campsite, who basically seemed to sit there drinking all day and swearing every second word. On day two, I actually went and asked to change campsites to get away from them. I realise this makes me sound like a grumpy 80 year-old woman, but seriously, I think we all had enough of 20-something young men when we were 20-somethings ourselves. Their dulcet tones are not exactly what I want to listen to on a relaxing holiday.

The Haast River

Lake Hawea, next door to Lake Wanaka

Wanaka's lake and mountains

Lake Wanaka

We actually went to Manapouri/Doubtful Sound before coming back up to Queenstown, but because of the million photos of Doubtful Sound I have to upload, and because Wanaka and Queenstown are pretty much linked in people's minds, I'll do them both here.

A fantastic view of Queenstown from the Wanaka road

We were first going to spend two nights in Queenstown, and then mostly for time reasons, adjusted that to one night, arriving in the evening and leaving at lunchtime. And once we got there and looked around in the evening, we decided one evening/night was enough. As I said, Wanaka and Queenstown kind of go together. They're not far apart, they're both on the shores of a lake, they are both ski towns in winter, and they both pride themselves on adventure tourism. Queenstown is the bigger and probably more well-known of the two, and it had a correspondingly busier, brasher vibe.

Fluffy hills en route to Queenstown from the Te Anau side

Driving along Lake Wakatipu

Lake Wakatipu from Queenstown

Me and the founder of Queenstown or whatever, plus sheep wife

It's a bit unfair really, since we did actually have annoying drunken youths bothering us in Wanaka, but the entire population of Queenstown seemed pretty much made up of irritating gap year types, so we cooled to it immediately (can you say that?) There were also a tentful of young women next to our van getting ready for a night on the town saying things like "that's hot" in faux American accents as though this was 2004 and they were an entire gang of Paris Hiltons. But they left reasonably early and didn't wake us up coming home, so I can't hold it against them too much.

Our one must-do in Queenstown was to try Fergburger, an apparently legendary local institution. Once we saw the queue stretching out the door, we followed the pro tip I had seen on the internet and phoned in our order, ready for us in 15 minutes after a pleasant stroll around the town. I've got to say, pretty tasty. Jules went for a classic, if jumbo-sized burger, and I got a pork belly and hash brown extravaganza. Yum!

Mmm, pork belly

Back to the foodture

One thing about being an expat, especially someone who has lived in multiple different cities and countries, is that there’s always something to miss. People, places, languages, culture, but most importantly, food. Depending where I am and my mood, I might be missing the delicious raspberry financiers from my favourite bakery in Tours, Galaxy Counters from the UK, chocolates from Belgium, and a whole host of things from New Zealand. Wandering the aisles of any large supermarket in Europe, you can generally come across at least some of the home treats you’re craving, with the sad exception of anything particularly New Zealandish, which is not big enough of a player to feature in a Brussels supermarket. Hence I came to New Zealand armed with a long (mental) list of things I had to cram in my belly before we left again, a list that just seems to get longer every time I walk into a supermarket or café.

But… and here’s the rub - what percentage of the longings is mere nostalgia, and what is based on sheer deliciousness? On a podcast I listen to sometimes, comedian Richard Herring asks “Kettle chips used to taste a lot better - have I changed, or have they?” This is a question I have had occasion to ask myself over the past few days.

If you don’t care about New Zealand classic cuisine of my youth, which you probably don’t, you can bail now. Or, if you’re curious, join me on a journey of culinary (re)discovery. And try not to judge.

Georgie Pie

"Blow before you bite"

Ah, Georgie Pie. Back in the heady days of the 80s and 90s (and 70s, apparently, but I wasn’t around to see it), New Zealand had its own brave fleet of meat pie-based fast food restaurants. It was cruelly crushed by McDonalds, who bought the chain out and closed all its branches. In my absence, McDonalds has brought back the brand, only as a menu item at its normal outlets. I went for a standard mince and cheese, my pie of choice in all circumstances (and one, weirdly enough, they seem not to have in the UK). The crust and oozing yellow liquid cheese were much as I remembered, but the “meat” filling had a disturbing texture, or to be precise, lack of texture, as if someone had pre-chewed the filling and spat it back into the pastry shell. It didn’t taste too bad, but the texture ruined this one for me.

Buzz Bars

Now here is an unqualified success. I had thought that Buzz Bars were no more, since I had asked my mum to bring some over to Europe for me and she told me they weren’t making them anymore. Lies, foul lies and deception! This delicious, thin marshmallow bar covered with honey and a chocolate coating is still going strong and is just as good as I remember. Jules is also now lamentably addicted.

Afghan biscuits

I’m not a huge eater of biscuits, but I’ll always find a little corner for this Kiwi baking classic. Afghans are made with crushed cornflakes and no rising agent, so they have a slightly crunchy, grainy texture which remind me a bit of a French sablon, except way better, obviously. I tried to make a batch one year for Anzac Day, but as with all my attempts at baking in Europe using NZ recipes, it failed, spreading into one giant, crispy burnt mess. Apparently the grade of flour used in Europe is different, or I just suck.

My sad attempt

Jules (and my Mum - strike two) insisted afghans have the texture of cardboard, but they are wrong.

Lamingtons

Another Kiwi dessert treat that did not go down too well with Jules. Basically just a square of sponge cake covered in a mysterious layer of chocolate or raspberry then rolled in coconut (and sometimes filled with whipped cream and a blob of jam). They can be dry, as with all sponge cakes, but the mini one I had was a goodie. According to Wikipedia, they are also popular in Cleveland, where they are called coconut bars, which seems odd. Can anyone confirm?

Fish and chips

(Greasy) fish and chips on the beach at Tairua

NZ fish and chips are the best in the world. Forget that greasy, weirdly battered junk you get in the UK and come to NZ for the good stuff. So far we’ve had snapper and terakihi, which were both firm and flakey and white, just as they should be, covered in a batter which it’s hard to describe without sounding gross, so you’ll just have to believe me that a crispy outside hiding a thick layer of creamy white fat is the only way to go. And delicious fluffy chips, as good as any I’ve had in Belgium. (Did you see Angela Merkel at the famous Brussels friterie Maison Antoine last week? Better than those.)

Whitakers chocolate

Seems legit

I’m aware this list is full of horrible junk food, just bear in mind what I said about not judging, and also that it’s the first time in over 6 years I’ve had most of this stuff. Cadbury also has a large presence in New Zealand, with more varieties available than in its UK home, but Whitakers is the true local player. When I was a kid, they only made the deliciously chunky bars of Peanut Slab and Almond Gold, but they now make a full range of chocolate blocks. We’ve only had Coconut Rough so far, but we’ll be back for more. Definitely on the “still good” list.

Jelly Tip icecream

I’ll admit to being biased here. I had already read complaints online that Jelly Tip - literally a tip of raspberry jelly (Jello) on a vanilla icecream, covered with chocolate, wasn’t what it used to be. So I was perhaps primed to be disappointed. But I found the jelly a pallid imitation of what it used to be, colour-wise, and also not as flavourful as I remembered. The crisp chocolate shell still had the weird mouthfeel of compound chocolate, which I like, but which probably is a nostalgia thing. 

Lisa’s hummus (etc.)

At home, I normally make my own hummus, but here the Lisa’s range is hard to beat, especially because she has such a wide range of delicious hummus (beetroot! basil! caramelised onion!) and other dips (the aubergine and cashew and spinach and feta are especially to die for). These on toast have been my regular breakfast food so far. Definitely in the good list.

Onion dip

This was one of the treats at our family BBQ on the weekend. Take a can of reduced cream (like the stuff you see in Europe, but unsweetened, which I can never find), mix in a packet of dry onion soup mix, and chill. I think you maybe do this in the US too, but for me it’s always been a quintessentially Kiwi party food. Dangerously addictive.

Marmite

Oh, Marmite, you dark seductress. It shouldn’t really be on this list, since I have some in the cupboard back in Brussels, and I haven’t actually eaten any here yet (I bought six large jars to ship home though), but I couldn’t write about New Zealand food without including everyone’s favourite yeast extract. Salty and delicious, and nothing like the abominations of English Marmite or horrible Australian Vegemite. My one true love.