Managed another scapata down to Firenze and Val d’Elsa combining business and pleasure, with one of the pleasure parts being a second Saturday morning scapata to abandon the Florence forno for the rugged Tuscan shores south of Livorno. Roberto and Gabriella make this a habit when they can’t slip away for longer, and I learned it indeed makes a great half-day getaway.
We were on the road by 7a.m., to beat traffic and make sure to be able to find a roadside parking place once we arrived. We stopped on the way out of town for un caffè, because, well…it’s necessary, that’s all; un tappo obbligatorio. As I was trying to decide on a brioche with or without marmellata, I heard some discussion of my name. This is normal anytime I tell someone come mi chiamo., as although it is only three letters, the vowel sound is wholly unpronounceable in Italian: nin? nenna? nahnna? Com’è? goes the conversation, always. Explaining that it’s short for Nancy seems to provide some relief, but I become Nancy from then on (who’s Nancy?).
I couldn’t figure out, though, why a barista would be worried about anyone’s name at 7 a.m, but it being 7 a.m., I wasn’t awake enough to delve any further into this mystery. Then I glanced over at Roberto’s cappuccino, and saw that Buona giornata was written quite legibly on the schiuma, in chocolate, I suppose. Amazing, how’d he do that? Then, when the barista served mine, I saw the motive for asking my name…che carino!
What a shame to drink it, I thought, after snapping several photos. I did, though. Now that’s the way to start the day…