I’ve been home from Italy for a week now, and I can no longer claim jet lag as a reasonable explanation for my lack of posting; I’m going to sum up, with as much efficiency as I can muster, the last tidbits of the soupapolooza! goes to Italy summer. 

There was a shin-dig for Ferragosto, which is an Italian holiday that has something to do with the ascension of Mary, but don’t ask me what that means since I was raised by godless heathens, thankyouverymuch. But nonetheless, Bossy and I chose to celebrate this holiday by braising a shinbone (called a “stinco” in Italian, tee-hee) and inviting our international friends over for some drunken reveling.

There were also two more trips into Florence, both unsuccessful in their promise of the now unicorn-like vintage silver gelato spoons. On the first excursion, a Sunday, we blindly brought the Cinquecento into the city center without consulting a map. It wasn’t pretty, made even less pretty when we found ourselves squeezing (and screeching) down a one-way street exactly the wrong way. We did get another excellent lunch and dinner (pizza!!!) with Beefcake and the Baron before we drove back to Panicale, dejected and stuffed.