The plot, like the sauce, thickens…

As the weeks go by here in Italy it’s becoming apparent to me why I’m here. Because while travel, shoes, culture and all that fun stuff was what I thought brought me here, I’ve found other purpose.

They’re grooming me.

I’ve become an expert at sweeping, bathroom cleaning, espresso brewing, making beds and laundry folding and hanging. Grocery shopping, something that used to be done more often than I’d like to admit and never consisted of more than a few items, has now become a weekly thing (Saturday mornings) and consists of many, many bags.

And now, I’ve learned something that I never thought I would. On Saturday I became the first of Nonna’s Canadian grandchildren to learn how to make soup. Fear not family, the tradition will continue with me.

After we made the soup (which is insanely easy to do) my aunt said to me that I now was ready to have children and hand the recipe down through the generations.

Aside from soup, I also learned how to make veal (spare me the politically incorrect commentary, the baby cow tastes good) stew… aka spicitine (I’m fairly certain it’s not spelt right, but you get the point), although we got the recipe out of a book and thus I’m certain this is not the same as Nonna’s.

I’m beginning to think it’s not just a joke that Nonna wants me to come back married, I think everyone’s plotting against me.

Crap, I think I’m becoming domesticated.