Sophie À La Carte!

Most of you don't know that I keep a dinner diary. Earlier this year my friend Elyse and I were inspired by a New York Times article about a women who kept a diary for years, writing down what she ate each evening. Elyse bought me a Moleskine to start my own (again, THANK YOU!) and on February 14th, it began: Braised chicken thighs Risotto with lemon & rosemary Mushrooms with vermouth, more lemon and rosemary Chocolate coconut French silk pie Boulevard Chocolate Ale & pinot noir The Dinner Diary Now, all my meals were definitely not this decadent (it was Valentine's Day, after all). See three months later, on May 14th: Lentils Chicken tacos Popcorn Or one of several late nights at the Capitol, like April 21st: Wasa crackers Peanut buter Banana I definitely had my dinner ups and downs over the first six months of the year, but while working at American Village, it was a steady "down"  July 14th: Turkey, green bean

The first of many, many, espresso My first hour in Italy, I successfully ordered an espresso, thanks to the brief time I spent listening to "Learn Italian!" podcasts while driving to the Capitol on cold February mornings. That was essentially the extent of my Italian. Since then, it's been two weeks of trial and error, mixing Spanish and French into what I think might  be Italian, and sitting quietly at dinner, absorbing the rapid fire of conversation from my coworkers and new friends. As anyone who has immersed themselves in a situation where they don't speak the language might know, it's very easy to zone out and stop concentrating. I learned to zone out this way at American Village- when I pretended to not know any French, I really practiced it by not even trying to understand what a camper was trying to ask me. "I don't speak French! Try again..." I continued this habit of zoning out in my new Italian environment mostly at the dinner tabl

It took me almost a week to realize I needed to stop wearing a watch. I've been wearing a watch (or Fitbit) consistently for almost two years, but I think for the next two weeks I'm going to take a break. Life is too relaxed here for watches. When I say here, I'm talking about Agriturismo Santa Reparata , my home for the rest of September. The farm is tucked into the hills of Emilia-Romagna, and only a few hundred meters from the Tuscany border. When my host Martina picked me up from the station in Faenza and drove us out to the countryside, I could barely believe where I was. Even now, while harvesting tomatoes or cutting stinging nettles for pasta (yes, I did that on Wednesday) I can turn around, and BAM: (This still doesn't capture the magnitude, but I had to keep this photo at its original size.) Anyway, more about the Agriturismo. It is a small farm/weekend restaurant run by Martina and her boyfriend Roberto, the chef. A few hours into arrival on Friday

Ciao! I write to you all from the train station in Bologna, waiting for the train to take me to Santa Reparata, the farm I am WWOOFing with for three weeks. My last glimpse at France After a brief stopover in Paris and a visit with my host family the van den Broeks-I used to call them my former host family, but in all honesty they'll always be my family :)- I boarded a 6:30am train which proceeded to zip through misty French countryside, towering Alps (my first glimpse!), and sunny Italian farmland before arriving in Milan. I then took a regional train from Milan to Bologna, where I had my next adventure: my first time Couchsurfing . The last time I was planning a trip to Europe, I was too scared to Couchsurf, but I have since realized that it’s one of the easiest and most economical ways to get to know a city, its people, and its food. Francesco! The past day and a half has been one of the best experiences of my trip so far, and it’s all thanks to my Couch