Construction Photos: Project 5, Phase 2, Day 6 (and a little gratitude Friday thrown in for good measure....)

The original barn door I am refinishing for the bathroom. Cool hardware is my next search.

Looking out from the room to what will be the roof terrace. The silver box in the half wall will house the controls for the radiant floor heating.

We left the origional support pillar of old brick exposed. The door next to it is the walk in shower.

Six days into phase two of our fifth renovation project. You may remember we had gotten the roof on before the winter set in - the worst in terms of cold and humidity in decades. Mind you, last year was the record winter for snow fall -- over 11 feet. This winter can only be described as miserable. In two months, it rarely got above freezing, and we were inundated with fog, freezing rain, snow and dampness like never before. The only silver lining was that we got the roof on before this misery started. But the bad news is that we are at least three weeks behind schedule.

On Friday of last week, the construction crew determined that the temperature, now above 37 degrees Farenheit, would allow cement to set, so they got busy. The room is now fully plastered, the final finish coate is going on, and things are starting to take shape. They have been working furiously to make up for the lost time.

I am very grateful that we were able to start construction again-- we were feeling like horses locked up in the stable with no where to turn.

The next thing to get done will be a layer of floor cement, followed by the insulation and water spirals for the floor heating, followed by another layer of cement, followed by the floor tiles, which are here, ready and waiting to be installed.

I have decided to do the bathroom floor in a mosaic of travertine, river stone and my own fired ceramics.

DIY Large Mosaic Mirror

This is a tutorial for making a high quality mosaic mirror.

There are a few things I would like to say before starting this. First of all, if you are going to go through the work of making a mosaic mirror, it's best to buy quality materials. I make my own ceramic mosaic tiles, but you can purchase tiles at a tile store and then cut them to size using snippers and a tile cutter. For a wall mosaic like a mirror, where the surface does not have to be flat, you can use irregular pieces of ceramic and glass, such as broken plates.

This mirror has a finished size of 1 meter by 60 centimeters, which is approximately 39" x 23".

I had a piece of 2 cm. thick multi-laminate board cut to size. I had a piece of 4mm thick mirror professionally cut at a glass shop to for the center: 75 cm x 35 cm, or 30" x 14". Do not skimp on either the board or the quality of the mirror.

The first thing to do is to varnish the board, both sides and the edge. The purpose of this is to prevent warping and bowing of the wood. I have read professional design blogs that have given tutorials for DIY mosaics that have left this out -- which is shocking. Anyone who has done a large mosaic and has the grout break up because the board contracted after drying will never make the mistake twice. So, no matter how small or large your project, if you are using a wooden base, always use multi-laminate and always varnish the board on all sides.

I then painted the back of the board and secured my mounting system to the board. Always figure out how you are going to mount your mirror in its end location BEFORE starting your mosaic. If you live in a home where the walls are constructed of drywall, you will need a wooden joist to mount a mirror of this size to or the weight will be too much. I am mounting mine into a brick and plaster wall, using four eyelet rings which I will later thread with reinforced wire as a hanging system.

I then measured off where the mirror should be mounted in the center of the board, and approximately where the tiles should end in order to give the inner edge of the mosaic a nice border:

I mixed tile cement into a paste. NOTE: With tile cement and with grout, I wear both a mask and gloves. The dust is toxic and irritating. It's applied with a putty knife...

... and then combed through with a putty comb. I am not sure what these are called in English, but it's a piece of metal with one edge cut out like teeth. They come in different cuts. I use a fairly small one for mosaics. You do this because the tiles take better and you use much less glue this way.

So then I began laying out the mosaic, section after section, in an abstract pattern. I am using all one color here, in different forms. The tiles are hand made and glazed silver bronze.

After mounting the tiles, I waited about two hours and then lightly touched every single tile to make sure they adhered. A couple had not, and I reglued them individually.

It is at this point that I mounted the mirror. I used extra strength industrial adhesive. It's expensive, but again, it's worth it for a project of this caliber. The reason I do this now instead of at the very end is because I want the mirror to be grouted into the moasic, not sit on top of the grout.

It was time now to let the entire mosaic dry over night, and to allow the glue to completely set. I covered the glass with protective paper and taped off the edges -- with packing tape, not masking tape. It's more water proof. Any extra glue that sticks to the mirror can be removed later with solvent.

That was yesterday.

This morning, I mixed the grouting cement. I wanted it to end up a dark grey, so I added a little black colorant to regular gray grouting cement.

The grout is applied with a putty knife, and pushed into all the nooks and crannies with a straight edge plastic grouter.

The grout is then wiped off, over and over, using fresh water and a sponge. NOTE: The water has to be changed continuously. Do not throw cement-loaded water down the drain. I place mine in a separate bucket, let it settle out and then dispose of the cement properly.

You have about a half hour to forty five minutes to really work with the grout. This is an uneven mosaic surface, so I had to dig carefully and polish every single piece manually.

Here's the mosaic as it is right now. It will need to dry over night. I will then apply a fixative to the grout and touch up the paint on the outer edges.

Once it is completely sealed and dry, I will thread the mounting wires, get it up on a wall and photograph it. It is to be the bathroom mirror for the new room.

Buon Lavoro!!

Gratitude Friday: Memories of the Lysaceks

It seems like yesterday, but it was four years ago. The Lysacek family stayed at Baur B&B during the Torino Olympics.

It had been difficult. Evan had qualified for the Olympics at the last moment, and there were no hotels rooms to be found in Torino. Through friends of friends, Tanya, Evan's mom, found us. We had to make special arrangements, because they needed to be brought back and forth for the practices and venues and of course, for the two skating competition.

We did it all. Arrival dinner, transport to Pala Vela and the practice rinks between 7 am and 12.30 am, breakfasts, helping relatives find hotel rooms when they missed the last train out to Milan. We helped dry the tears after the heartbreak of Evan's short program. We shouted for joy when he came back to place fourth. We were part of Team Lysacek for just a small moment in time.

It was clear this young man was going places.

For me, it was incredible experience to learn what goes into the making of an Olympic athelete. The family involvement was 100%. These people have done everything to help their son reach his goal. The mood went from somber and sad one morning to talk of an upcoming Tonight Show appearance a couple of days later.

I will always be grateful to have had the chance to glimpse at the world of the Olympics through this very special lens here at the B&B, and I am absolutely thrilled for Evan. I can imagine how Tanya and Don Lysacek feel today -- elated, relieved, exhausted!

Go USA!

Interesting People Series: Letizia Mattiacci

A long time ago, I had expressed the desire to interview people whom I find interesting. I am literally surrounded, both in a cyber sense and in the flesh, by interesting people. People who had mixed things up a bit, changed courses, gone through some individually challenging experiences and had gained wisdom from the experience.

One person who came to mind immediately is my friend Letizia Mattiacci. Many of you know Letizia from her excellent food blog, Alla Madonna del Piatto. She has an agriturismo and cooking school by the same name. In the scenic, hilly land that surrounds the city of Assisi in Umbria, she, her husband Ruud and daughter Tea live in harmony with nature, prepare natural, elegant foods and entertain guests from around the globe.

I feel very fortunate to count Letizia among my friends. She's strong, funny and very smart. Loving. Helpful. And so passionate about what she does, that her love of food and her home are contagious.

Letizia is a scientist by trade, and had a career that provided her with the opportunity to live abroad and travel extensively. It is with the change of life direction to country inn owner that we started our conversation.

Letzia, you decided to change the entire form of your life from an analytical one to an empirical, sensory driven one. From scientist to "life artist", providing guests with an aesthetically pleasing environment, with food being at the center of the experience. What things drove you to make this huge life change, and what is at the root of your life philosophy today?

The short answer is I left the "rat race". The long answer is that even though being a scientist was a glamorous and interesting job, it was also very temporary. At a certain point in my life I did not see myself anymore as a modern gypsy, changing jobs and country every 2-3 years, I needed to settle down and have a family. I also felt I had grown up and I could decide for myself how to determine my future. Last but not least I wanted to live in a beautiful place and what better than my home, Umbria?

My philosophy today is based on the values of solidarity and respect of others, and conservation of energy and environment. Although I do love beautiful things, particularly if old and/or handmade, I prefer experience over possession of objects.

I hear you about possessions. You speak of things handmade being significant to you. I think this is what people sense when they cook in your kitchen -- your food is literally hand made. I can't help but notice that the recipes on your blog are made of pure, clean ingredients, assembled in a simple, yet very elegant way. Talk to me about growing up in Umbria and Umbrian cuisine.

My life in Umbria has been that of one of a million girls from the provinces. No sophistication, not a lot of opportunities but good, solid family life. My mom was Sicilian, my father is from Umbria, both civil servants, no university education, not travels abroad. My father loved documentaries though, so I was very young when I learned about Masai culture or talking dolphins. I always thought I would seen them once. Well, I haven't seen the dolphins yet, but I managed the Masai.

Our food has always been very good. Top actually. My mother and her brother and sisters were all excellent cooks. I have learned the fundamentals of food quality from my mom. She went to market in Perugia old town and toured the place until she found the freshest lettuce and the plumpest chicken. Some of her holidays dishes, like lasagne, cannot be improved. She took all the time needed for cooking, no shortcuts. She made her own mayonnaise, custard, tomato sauce, everything from scratch.

From my father I learned what's good EVO oil, good eggs and sausages. He comes from a farmer family where they picked fruit from the tree just before eating it. If a fig was a few hours old they would not eat it, it went to the pigs! EVO oil is incredibly important for Umbrians, you just cannot have good food if there is no good oil. Pork comes second. In the form of prosciutto, sausages, chops, guanciale, porchetta, you name it, the pig is part of the Umbrian daily life.

Since lasagna is a baked dish, can we assume that your recipe came from your mom's Sicilian family? What other recipes did she import with her to Umbria that stick in your mind as representing that part of Italy?

Some of my best recipes are from my mom: the lasagna, the involtini Siciliani (meat rolls stuffed with herbed breadcrumbs), the pasta incasciata (baked pasta with eggplants), stuffed vegetables, eggplant Parmesan. all of these dishes are baked indeed, and extremely rich in flavor.

Did your mom pine for Sicily? How did she adjust to life in central Italy?

My mom came to Umbria a long time ago, in the early 60s. I do know that she missed Sicily a lot at the beginning. Umbria is cold in the winter and has no sea. She also missed the kick of a larger town, she was brought up in Messina. By the time I was a teen ager though, she was completely charmed by the serene beauty of Umbria and by its relatively high standard of life. She did love to go to Sicily for holidays, but Umbria was her home.

It sounds like your father wanted to give you the idea that the world was broader than "just Umbria". Now that you have seen a good part of the world and come back "home", how do you think home fares against the other lifestyles you have seen out there?

I am a traveler at heart, I have learned that everywhere in the world there is something good and something bad. I have lived for prolonged periods of time in 4 countries and visited many more. There is no complete paradise anywhere. Italy is probably the sum of a lot of what is good and bad in the world. An impossible political situation, a pervasive feeling chaos and confusion about most aspects of life. On the other hand there is probably more beauty concentrated here than almost anywhere else in the world. Nature, history, food, you all have it here. Living in Italy is not for everybody, but I feel privileged to be here on top of my magical mountain. I would not go back.

Tell us a little bit about what you learned in the your travels that you help you in your current business.

In my travels I learned the the world is all the same. From a human point of view there is no better or worse world. People might have different social behaviors, be poorer or richer, but kindness and ugliness of mind and soul are equally distributed. Therefore we do not need to fear, I feel that I can go and always learn.

What is your personal favorite aspect about what you do?

Of what I do now I mostly love two things: to share the unbelievable beauty of the place I live in. The look of astonishment of some of my guests when they are just arrived is priceless. I also love that my guests come from culture, background and work often completely different from what I know. Even though I live on top of a mountain the world comes to me.

Oops!

Sorry that I 'm not posting as I should--- my time is being swiped from me! Searching for bathroom fixtures, ordering sheet mirror for mosaics, blowing the budget at the home improvement store on paint, rummaging through import shops for a TV stand, talking to the carpenter about the cherry planks we have from a tree Micha cut last year, looking for a novel way to hang towels, praying for warmer weather in vein, and....

hoping for a miracle or two, as always...

and thinking about how I am not writing in my blog.... and missing all of you....

I will be back very shortly, full of art and gratitude!

Warning: Crafting Insanity Ahead

So many projects. So little time. Just a little warmer weather - that's all we need.

Everything continues to be brought to a grinding halt by freezing temperatures. Today we meet with the builders. And we pray that it changes soon before we get in a jam.

In the mean time, to keep myself from going insane, I went and had marine multiplex cut to size. That's layered and laminated wood, resistant to warping. I've coated a couple of pieces with clear shellac, both sides, to insure it stays absolutely flat.

Because I have a few mosaics to make.

Here, bronze-silver tiles. They are stunning. I will be making more of these and doing a table top out of them. I am thinking black grouting.

Some small detail tiles. I have hundreds, in different colors.

Some fun colors, for frames and borders

A silver bronze glazed wall sculpture waiting to be mounted on treated wood

There's a mirror to make for the bathroom, a headboard for the new guest room, some art pieces for the older rooms...

Time to get busy and ignore my freezing fingers.

Albisola, Liguria 7.2.10

It was freezing. Again. Cold and damp. Snow and ice everywhere. We needed a break.

We drove thirty five miles, over the mountains. It got worse before it got better. At the top, two feet of snow, with mountains of it piled high left and right.

Then, things changed. Dramatically. The temperature climbed, degree for degree. We shed scarves, hats, gloves, coats as we drove.

And suddenly we were there. Only an hour later. Thirty five miles. Seems incredible, doesn't it?

Gratitude Friday: Calm

Not too long ago, I gave a candle to a new friend who was suffering an acute bout of anxiety for many good reasons.

I bought a similar candle for myself, and told her that we should light the candles whenever we were feeling a little apprehensive. Here is mine, lit.

Lighting it made me think of my friend. And the thought of her calmed me immediately. I hope she is calm as well.

We are not alone, you know. We don't ever need to suffer our fears in silence. We do have each other. We just need to reach out. It feels so good to know that others are there, and that they understand.

Sometimes we think they won't. But often, people will surprise you. Everyone goes through so much. And so many people have insights that we can't imagine from just looking at them. Because life never ceases teaching, if we are willing to learn. If you share a little of yourself, openly and honestly, with the right person, you will receive comfort in return. Comfort and good cheer.

This week I had the incredible fortune to get to know three really lovely women. Natascha from Agriturismo Verdita, Olivia from La Luna Buona, and yesterday, Megan from TorreBarolo. The Universe blessed me with strong feminine energy this week, something that I won't hesitate to recognize as a gift.

The candle holder in the picture came out of my kiln. It turned out to be perfect for my anxiety candle.

I wish you all peace on this snowy Piemontese afternoon. Peace, calm, tranquility, and the knowledge that you are definitely not alone.

And that is something to be very grateful for.

Italian vs. Italian American

Ahhh. To be Italian in South Philly.

For anyone not familiar with South Philadelphia, let me just say that it's ethnic to a large degree, with the most prominent group being the Italians. It is South Philly Italian Market that is wholly responsible for turning my niece into a quasi-almost-complete-and-definitely-not-lamb-eating vegetarian. I had the grand idea of taking my sister's suburban raised offspring to the market at delicately young age only to run directly into a shop window where three, count 'em three fully skinned -but-heads-still-on-baby lambs were hanging by the back paws. It turned out not to have been such a stellar idea, my wanting to bathe the kiddies in a bit of our own ethnic culture. Culture?

South Philly, I discovered, is Italian American at its most basic, its most primeval. It's the Italian American stereotype grabbing at its own crotch with a crooked grin, and thumbing its nose at the rest of the world.

But who am I talking to here? Clearly you have all seen at least one episode of "Jersey Shore". You get what I'm talking about, don'tcha?

South Philly Italian American also has its own vernacular, which, for the uneducated, can be disconcerting. Mine is mayan, yeah, like the Indians, and water is wurder. That place with the big ocean where you are dying to have a condo is da shure and the red stuff that goes on spaghetti is gravy. Graeeevie, to be exact. Now, you can find this dialect pretty much all over the Delaware basin. But when you're in South Philly, the speak has something to do with being Italian. Don't ask me what, exactly, but you have to go there to get the feel.

Tony asked me to marry him! He's mayan. We're going to da sure for our honeymoon and we'll eat a lot of wurder ice! I hope I can make graeevie as good as his mom!

Now, that's Italian.

My husband, doing his rounds for the company, stopped in for a while at the Staples store in South Philadelphia many years ago. One of the girls working there was named Dawn (let me put that into South Philly Italian for you ---Duoowwn). Dawn was working the register when a family of four Italians, I mean the kind from Italy, walked up to pay for their purchases. Attractively dressed, polite and real. Italians.

From the boot. Not from the 'hood.

Dawn, catching that the family members were speaking to each other in a foreign language, asked them, "So. Where are you from (weeeeer ya from)?

From Italy, the father of the family replied. EET- AH-LEE!

"Huh," said Dawn skeptically. "Funny. You don't SOUND Italian."

Perception is everything, isn't it?

It's like using ricotta and mozzarella in lasagna. You think that's Italian? The white stuff in lasagna in Italy is bechemel sauce, not cheese! Or meat sauce. In Italy, meat sauce is comprised of, well MEAT! Tomatoes are just added to make it a bit spreadable; the sauce is barely even red.

Back in the day, before I actually spoke Italian, I was sitting in a restaurant in Liguria, by myself. The Italians next to me struck up a conversation. During the course of the conversation, they asked me if we had an Italian dish made of pasta and beans in America. I said, sure! Of course we do! Pasta FAZOOL.

The entire restaurant broke out laughing. Ok, there were only four tables in the place. But I still turned beet red.

Pasta e fagioli is the actual name of the dish. Pasta FAZOOL, we figured out that evening, some arcane Sicilian or otherwise southern Italian dialect watered down by three generations of Italian Americans who COULD NOT SPEAK ITALIAN!!!

I love being Italian. Except that I'm not. I'm clearly Italian American. And that's a completely different thing than being Italian. Except that it isn't.

If Italian American had a Facebook page, it's relationship status would be "It's Complicated."

La Luna Buona

Olivia, the most lovely hostess with charm, charisma, and two whole barns full of goats.

The beautiful accommodation part of the agriturismo

The stars of the show

A goat after my own heart.

Fresh, raw goat milk after its processing into rounds.

Monica, making the round forms of the fermented goat milk

The rounds need to be flipped in their own containers...

...the hand motions are quick and smooth...

...the rounds need to be turned several times...

...before they head over to the drying rooms.

Oh Dio. Che buona. Una formagetta con una crosta di lavanda (a little cheese dipped in lavander...)

The beautiful packaging....look for it at EATALY....

cheese topped with coal dust, with lavender, with herbs, with juniper berries...

too scrumptious for words. More. More. More.

Some days you hit upon experiences that peel layers back from your heart and expose your emotions. Things don't always start out that way; they can start out innocuously, with a simple appointment to taste some goat cheese at a small producer in the hills of Northern Italy.

We climbed into the hills of the Alta Langha, to the village of Vesime, where the vines give way to pastures and farmland. This is the heart of Robbiola country, the DOP zone of Roccaverano, where goat cheese so mild, so delectable is produced, that I would bet anyone claiming to be a goat cheese hater to give it a try and not be converted.

We had read about a lovely Agriturismo called La Luna Buona that produces cheese in Vesime. We stopped at the local market and asked for directions. The proprietor stepped outside the shop. "See?", he said, pointing upwards in the hills. "There's a church. Then there's a yellow house. Up above, see that stone house? That's Luna Buona. Careful, it's a steep road!"

He wasn't kidding. We climbed and zig zagged straight up to the stone house, and were greeted by a lovely young woman who was born with a smile on her face. I felt like I had known her before. Olivia graciously showed us around her and Massimo's little piece of paradise: they have built a goat cheese farm and production facility. A really big "small" one, if that makes sense. Small enough that the entire process is done by hand. Big enough that it can work economically.

The first thing we did was to visit the goats. Now, I am a goat lover, so I might be biased, but I could have taken a few of these home with me. So affectionate, so darling. And in this barn there were at least a few hundred of them. They were eating straw from Roccaverano, which is the law, since this is an organic farm producing Robbiola di Roccaverano DOP, small rounds of raw milk goat cheese. We could not help but notice how spotless the goat barn was, and how pleasant it was to be in there with them. These goats have it good. Really, really good. One goat nuzzled my hand until another came along, wanting some attention too. Sweetness all around.

We then passed by the milking area, where the female goats are fed a special grain combination that they really love. Happy, happy goats are milked twice a day. The milk then goes into the laboratory where the processing begins.

The end result is a product so beautiful, wholesome and tasty that there are no words to really describe it. It's about something real, eating this cheese.

We went back to the house, where Olivia, Massimo and their two daughters live. The house is a historic Piemontese L-shaped cascina, beautifully restored by the family themselves. In the old barn are now three guest rooms and a brick vaulted ceiling breakfast and tasting room, much like our own. I started to feel a bit emotional -- like this was all so familiar. The renovation, the work, the passion, the bricks, the ceiling, the kindness, the generosity. We sat and tasted the exquisite cheeses and felt like we were in a place very much like our own home.

Olivia showed me the photos of the house before the restoration. It was a ruin. Like ours was.

She told me that they were hard years, the years of building. That was it. Tears were streaming down my face. I knew with every fiber of my being what she meant by hard years. I know what she knows and I felt it all around me in her home. It all touched me. There is so much of this type of life that is just plain hard, hard work. All for what? To make something good. To make something good and special and small and right. Not to make a fortune - just to do something that adds to the world instead of destroying it. To feel that feeling when someone looks at your work and says, "Wow. This is amazing." That is what I knew this woman and her family had sacrificed and worked so hard for. And yet, she met us with a smile, and openness and with a sense of generosity that beguiles all of that hard work.

So that's why I felt so emotional, peeled back, exposed, yet validated in my own choices about what I do.

It was a wonderful morning. One I will not forget for a long time. Maybe never.

Inspiration

I had the loveliest afternoon with a new friend. She has a project like I do, a little ways from me in Piemonte, near the Ligurian border, called Agriturismo Verdita. Natascha and her dog came to visit and we walked in the vineyards, drank tea and talked about a million different things.

Max adores Natascha's dog Indy. He's so tired right now, dreaming of chasing that pretty little Dalmatian all over the hills. I should have taken pictures, but I was too busy chatting away.

Sigh.

Girl time.

It's so nice when serendipitous things like this happen. We ladies here in Italy really work hard on our projects, whether its writing like Michelle or Arlene, trip planning like Meg, or accommodating guests, like Cheryl, Nastasja, Natascha or myself. We often forget to take time and just relax, and be the women we were before we started living this lifestyle here in Italy! After all, the majority of us are two or three (or more) career people. We did do things like "meet the girls for a drink after work." That was part of our vernacular at one time. Now, just because we busy ourselves with keeping the stufas fed and our blogs updated, our guests informed and our email boxes cleared out, it does not change that a part of us misses just being, well, social!

Let me tell you a little about Natascha's project. Years ago I visited a co-operative called Agronatura here in Piemonte which make essential oils and processes herbs. It's a wonderful place, you get dizzy from the smell of lavender when you just drive into the valley during distillation time.

At Agriturismo Verdita, Natascha and Nicole have just planted thousand of baby lavender plants -- a little piece of Provence in Piemonte. They have associated with Agronatura and will be providing the co-op with lavender in the future. In addition, they have four apartments to rent to travelers, all done with color and flair. It was wonderful to talk about our projects, the common experiences, some of the frustrations. It was also so nice to be reminded of all the good things - the beauty of the area, the happiness that returning guests bring.

Inspiration comes from so many sources, but we have to be willing to look for it. It is easy, way too easy, to get pigeonholed into our projects and forget to stick our heads up once in a while to see what else is happening. Today reminded me of that!