Pinch me, I'm living in Italy

It's all coming together.

We found a home. While we don't move into our new place til the end of the month, it's big, bright, beautiful, closer to the centre of town and has plenty of space for guests... It's also closer to the route I've been joyfully pedaling my little Vicini along this week. Despite the ever-present threat of thunderstorms this week, it's been a definite highlight.

The links between course material are beginning to make sense. And, in the midst of the statistics and policy classes, came a class on writing that completely inspired me to be a better educator and writer. This was followed by Sensory Analysis, which involved statistical lectures and practical wine labs. I got to test my understanding, nose and taste buds in a completely different, and thoroughly enjoyable way.

We started the first lab in silence, smelling 26 typical scents associated with white wines and creating a list of standards. The second part of the lab involved writing down everything we could smell in four different wines. Then we tasted, and discussed if the nose matched the taste. It was gratifying to see that Rasoul's spontaneous lessons and my WSET course have paid off! Day two, we moved onto reds, and explored four typical Italian varieties, which was a new realm of tasting for me. How can I not love a course that revolves around wine! Or spending time in a classroom that looks out onto a view like the one below?

We've begun to discover neighbourhood haunts - the train station cafe where we go for morning cappuccinos.

We have a favourite Panetteria we go into on our route back from the Farmers' Market where the owner teaches us new phrases and engages us in lively discussions in Italian. Yesterday she guided us through talking about our jobs at home, while she sold us flaky strudel di mele.

On a classmate's recommendation, we've fallen in love with a Formaggi where the third generation cheese-maker/proprietor speaks fluent French and allowed me my first opportunity in three weeks to feel like myself in a foreign language. It didn't hurt that he took us on an impromptu tour of his shop and cave. It was very difficult to pry Wendy away from the 2005 Parmigiano-Reggiano rounds that were quietly aging in the cellar.

Then I've been more regularly interacting in my piece-meal Italian, with people in town like the nonna who lives on the ground floor of my building. She's always out on her balcony, hair coiffed to perfection, in variations on the not-so-little black dress. Her original suspicious glares have mellowed in the face of my cheerful "Buongiornos", and now she talks to me about her gardening and teases me about my helmet when I roll up on my bike after class. At least I think that's what she's saying . . .

We're getting to know the other people in our program, slowly yet surely. Last night we invited a couple of the guys over for a potluck of Farmers' Market goods - starting with cherry tomato salad, sauteed zucchini topped with soft-boiled egg, and crostini with caramelized onions and capers.

With a gleeful heart, Wendy fulfilled her deep frying craving with zucchini blossoms stuffed to bursting with fresh ricotta and parsley.

The guys brought potatoes au gratin that were to die for - using the pan from their toaster oven. Apparently not all student housing apartments have ovens! And these chefs proved it's not always necessary to have all the right equipment to prepare a good meal.

We laughed a lot, swept our plates clean with some fresh pane di bra, drank some very good wine until late, and finished off with a round of robiola (local cheese made from cow, sheep and goat's milk) and an herbaceous provenzal.

This morning was made slightly rougher by a necessary late-night round of laundry - our washing machine sounds like an hour-long alien landing gone horribly wrong. But that's nothing a good cappuccino or three can't cure.

And tomorrow we catch a late night flight to Puglia. Our first study trip begins Monday morning, but we three roommates have decided to have one last hurrah before we move on out. We have several nights booked at a quaint b&b in the centro storico in Polignano a Mare for general grotto exploration, good seafood, and some solid beach time before we rejoin the rest of the class for five, 18 hour days of touring, tasting, meeting local producers and getting our hands dirty. Apparently we will all know each other a little too well after this trip is over. I can't wait.

If this post feels a little like a gratitude list, it is exactly that. Pinch me, I'm living in Italy with all that entails.