The Open Market

 We went to the open market yesterday.  I've become a little reluctant to take photos in unfamiliar places because there seems to be a big concern in Italy about privacy issues. There are quite a few signs in many areas (particularly stores) warning that photography is forbidden. So, yesterday, I only took one photo of the marvelous array of fresh fruits, vegetables, cheeses, salami, and seafood. That's when I knew I had to take a photo--ever so cautiously so as not to attract attention.

 Maybe some time we'll be brave enough to try the seafood--but Robyn says there were too many eyeballs looking back at us from the squid bins. I agreed. 

Our friends who showed us how to find the market are temple missionaries from Arizona. We talked about our reluctance to buy the ubiquitous seafood. Eric suggested that the fact we live far from the ocean and don't really have the same access as people who live in seaside cultures might have something to do with it.

A few booths before the seafood location, Eric and I looked at a slab of what looked like salted, dried, fish about the size of a four-inch high bushel basket.  Neither one of us had the slightest idea how it would be used--let alone purchased. 

I think our discomfort with seafood is also related to the fact that when Robyn and I first came to Italy she ordered jumbo shrimp and it was delivered  whole on the plate--head, eyeballs and fins. It was easier for me three years ago when Dario Vardeu, a dear friend who lives here took us to dinner. I was able to watch how and what parts he ate of the strange creatures on our plates.  Since it's just me and Robyn at our meals, we're not taking too many chances--and I have experience on that note.

Forty-nine years ago while I was here as a missionary, my companion and I were served rabbit. My serving included the rabbit's back and the kidneys were still attached by the renal arteries.  I wondered whether I had been served a delicacy or not.  I figured that rather than risking offense, I'd eat one.  When I tasted it, it was awful; but I knew if I drank lots of water and ate bread with it, I could get it down--which I proceeded to do.

As I worked up my courage for the second kidney, I figured I'd try it in one bite to minimize the discomfort.  As I tossed it in my mouth, our host looked at me incredulously and said, "You ate the kidney! I've never seen anyone eat rabbit kidneys before!"

I almost lost what was in my mouth and long since swallowed. I said, "Oh, they're fine..."  After that, I determined I would either ask about what was on my plate or not eat it if it was unfamiliar.  Practically everything at the seafood section is too mysterious for us to even know what to ask.