the rest of pasqua was spent sguazzare-ing nel torbido (which is one of my current favorite slang phrases, literally meaning ‘to flail or splash about in the murky water’ but really means to party a little too hard). that is to say, it was a whirlwind of entirely way too much meat with just a little frisbee-throwing in between to keep the next round of protein-loading sort of manageable.
we spent mini-easter (pasquetta) out in the monferrato hills, in diminutive, tranquil casorzo, where we sat down with some 150 of the locals and their friends and family while the town matrons scurried about, getting more underfoot in their efforts to help and set everything up than they realized, and the resident males set about doing what men the world over do best — grilling meat:
usually, easter here is all about eating lamb (though i’ve yet to do that in the past 3). instead, i’ve gotten respite from veal (which is not a little thing in cattle-obsessed piedmont) only to be stuffed with pork (chops, sausages, belly — any way you slice it. and boy, do they). they’re also big into the kebabs here, though, as you may already know, they’re called spiedini.
in addition to the skewer of sausages, wurstel (aka hot dogs), chicken thigh and peppers below, we’ve got another separate sausage in the top left atop a hefty slice of ‘ham’ (said the friend on the right, though really, i think what he meant was ‘fatty fatfat cured pork belly’). and then on the upper right, another sort of half-hearted stab at vegetables: radicchio and eggplant, grilled in whatever meat drippings were left on the grilltop.