Shopping for bread on Domenica-Sunday

After two days of rather rainy weather and after having a fabulous dinner at the Bava’s last night in Menaggio Joan and I decided to take a walk down to the town of Mezzegra and purchase some bread for our lunch. Bread in Italy is a necessity not just a staple. In fact, for me to try to make it through a day without the three “B’s” would be an impossibility! The three B’s of course are beer, bread and butter. Yes, I know as half Italian I should be consuming wine but at home I’m a beer guy so in Italy I’m going to be a beer guy. And, hey, butter? Well can anyone get through a day without putting at least a cube of butter on just about everything one consumes? I think not! But these two commodities pale in comparison to the breads available in Italy. Damn, my mouth is watering. So off we go on out jaunt downhill to find some bread. I decided not to blame Joan for running out when I remembered it’s always my job to purchase it. I’m the idiot this time. We meandered through the neighborhood choosing a different route down as there are many small paths, trails, side streets and crossing small vegetable gardens to give one a slightly different view of Lake Come every step of the way. It is a great opportunity to gaze into people’s yards, etc. (we never gaze into people’s houses as this is just as taboo in Italy as it is in the US) , although I do remember seeing some eighty year old guy in his Speedo out on his balcony last year. Very difficult on the eyes. I couldn’t eat for two days with that view in my mind!

Our walk was very pleasant and very scenic. I took a number of photos on the way down but started to get a little apprehensive as we got closer to town. We’re out of bread and could the stores be closed? I’m thinking the town bakery is probably closed but since they also supply the retailers such as the two small grocery stores we should be OK. Much to my chagrin we immediately see that the two grocers are closed on Domenica. Damn. I’m already starting to go into withdrawal. I told Joan our last hope is that the bakery is still open. We walk around the corner along the main street, which, by the way, is a small area where you must walk in the traffic lane since there is NO room between the buildings for anything excepts cars. We turn the corner again to find the hidden bakery CLOSED! Oh no! Joan said, “ oh well” and I threw myself on the ground in a small temper tantrum. But being the mature person I am I quickly got up and decided to use my wits in my pursuit of pane. I noticed that there was a secondary door open and thought maybe the janitor might slip me a couple of stale, day old loaves. I looked in and saw no one and thought the hell with it. I started to walk away but then thought I’ve come this far I’m going to go even further into the store. I knock on the wall and call out. Who appears but the women who usually waits on me during opening hours! Now this woman I remember from last year. I was always convinced that she thought I was the village idiot because as many times as I went in there she always smiled at me an immediately started speaking to me in Italian. Of course she heard back from me in English and some rudimentary pronunciation of numbers in Italian. Same thing every time I went in there. Well, today, I guess she thought they let me out of the asylum on a Sunday and she took pity on me. We had the same bumbling conversation, she had the same dumb smile on her face and I, well I was just so happy to have my bread that tears were at streaming down my face.

Joan says I really need to get a life!