Espresso, Plantations, Sambo Imagery, and Colonization in Reverse

The Mixmaster and I just got back from Italy, and yes, it was lovely. Everything I dreamed it would be. Over the next few weeks, I'll be posting on my trip, and places to eat (and places not to, of course) in Bella Italia. But I thought I'd begin my discussion of my whirlwind 8 days there with that quintessential Italian drink, espresso.
On day 2 of our trip, the first full day in Rome, I headed down to Squisito (the cafe just below our hotel) on Via Merulana and had my first cappuccino. We here in North America really drink coffee-flavoured steamed milk. The Starbucks "venti" is a travesty! The average cappuccino in Italy is about half the size of a regular ceramic coffee cup, and is drunk in a few minutes while chatting with the barista at the bar. Or, in my case, smiling shyly, and saying "Grazie, Signore," when I leave. The cappuccinos at Squisito (which translates to delicious in English), were 90 euro cents, and were frothy, not overly bitter, and creamy. The milk seemed to be full fat, which made for a silkier tasting beverage. And on offer was a dusting of premium quality sweetened cocoa powder. The baristas could even make heart shapes when pouring the frothed milk into the cup. You might want to check out this website to learn about all things espresso.

Espresso beans, sugar, cocoa: these are all goods that come from countries of the south (either the Caribbean, South and Central America or Africa). Edward Said, writer of the pivotal Orientalism, writes that European orientalists saw the East as a place of rejuventation, as a place where raw energy could come from that could invigorate the West. But we cannot forget the actual imported raw materials, that are turned into such highly prized food and other luxury goods made in Europe (this expands too to the highly regarded fashion industry, in which Egyptian cotton is a prized staple).



This is an image of the sugar packets at Squisito. I quickly snapped a photo, and brought one home with me, for my research. Racist imagery of black people (and others) in food is not new, of course. We here in Canada and the US have seen smiling black people feeding us everything from table syrup to rice (I'm thinking of Aunt Jemima and Uncle Ben respectively). And the less critical among up might say, "What of it? It's just a happy man in a hat!" without knowing of the history of caricatures of blacks. And they're always happy. If "moca" man wasn't smiling, we'd have to think of the conditions on his sugar plantation, Italy's (albeit limited) past forays into imperialism in such places as Libya, and our espresso might start to taste a little bitter on the tongue.
But one of the most exciting things I found in Italy was the scores of people of colour! I had thought that The Mixmaster and I would be stared at, and possibly experience racism in Italy, but Rome had more people of colour than Montreal, easily. There were sushi restaurants, and "Cinese food" (sic) places, and it made me think of a poem I read for one of my comps, Colonization in Reverse by Louise Bennett, in which the poet speaks of how the Empire "strikes back". I'm including a few stanzas here (the full poem is available online):

Wat a joyful news, miss Mattie,
I feel like me heart gwine burs
Jamaica people colonizin
Englan in Reverse

By de hundred, by de tousan
From country and from town,
By de ship-load, by de plane load
Jamica is Englan boun.

Dem a pour out a Jamaica,
Everybody future plan
Is fe get a big-time job
An settle in de mother lan.

What an islan! What a people!
Man an woman, old an young
Jus a pack dem bag an baggage
An turn history upside dung!

Yes, struggling African Italians, and Asian Italians might find it hard to challenge the hegemony of Italy's history and culture, but they speak back to the narrative of the Dolce Vita and make it their own, by adding "Cinese" food to the menu, or lapsing into Hindi when selling Venetian masks (as one vendor did with us). The Venetian South Asian we spoke with spoke Italian, some English, and Hindi. And it got me to thinking about what his life might be like. Similar to what mine was in Montreal, I guess, a riot of multiple languages and cuisines. Colonization in Reverse, indeed.
God, I wish I wasn't so jet lagged...

A Sunday Trip To The Best Croissants in Town

I've been working quite intensely at a summer job the last few weeks, so when I have the odd day off, it's much appreciated. A week or two ago, the Mixmaster and I made this lovely wilted greens dish, along with a whole wheat meat sauce and spinach lasagna. The escarole is a rather quick dish to make, and substitutions can be made; I didn't have a red onion, so I used white, and while eating it, I mused at how lovely a scattering of toasting of pine nuts would taste over it.
Last week, I yet again had one day off on Sunday, and thought heading over to Pain Perdu for their mouth watering croissants would be great. I've heard that Bonjour Brioche (812 Queen Street East) has a pretty good croissant too, but for my money, PP's croissants are the best in town. As you bite into one, a small shower of pastry flakes will dust your shirt, as they should. It tastes mildly of butter and bread and yeast and nothing else. No preservatives. The croissants are obviously lovingly and meticulously made over the course of a day, by folding chilled butter and dough mixture over and over, quite patiently. Don't believe how time consuming croissant making is? Watch this long-ish video, and you'll get the drift...

Pain Perdu's croissants are perfect to grab for a stroll down St. Clair West, and there's even a little bench outside PP, for you to sit down and people watch while eating your pastry. And if plain croissants are a little ennuyeux for you, try some of their other viennoiserie.
Croissants were said to have been created in 1686 in a rather interesting and mythic story. As the story goes, a baker working late in Budapest, Hungary heard an alarming noise and alerted the city officials. It seems that the Turkish army was tunneling under the cities walls, and this lone baker saved the day. He was asked if he wanted anything, and all he asked is that he could make a special pastry to commemorate the occasion- in the shape of the Islamic crescent.
Neat little tale, eh? Too bad it's all a zenophobic myth. There's no documented proof of the thwarted invasion in history books, and croissants recipes were first found in France around 1850.