Kamangir (Archer)

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Food, Cigarettes, and Taste â€“ My Days in Milan

Kamangir | December 21, 2007 | Category Personal

If I want to describe Milan in three words, I’ll call it the city of graffiti, cigarettes, and warm people.

When I went past the exit doors of Milan’s Malpenso Airport, the first thing that came to my mind was, “Why are we living in the frozen Winnipeg?” The temperature was above zero and there was a thick layer of fog in the air, making this new country look amazingly mysterious. Then, I took the bus to get to the center of the city. On both sides of the autobahn the trees were drowning in the fog, making me seriously think that I really should find a post-doc in Milan. These ideas were what I kept thinking about until I was taken away by a deep sleep.

The next morning, the fog was still there. I thought, “Well, this is early in the morning”. I spent the day in the National Museum and a few historic churches. At 4 pm, the fog started to turn into darkness. The next morning, the fog was back there. Winnipeg is indeed a huge frozen prairie in the winter, but, still, there is a lot of sunshine in there which makes it bearable. At least, if you are in a bus or riding a car, you can enjoy the white landscape every piece of which is shining under the sun. In Milan, in the other hand, there is no -40 but neither is the sunshine, for the most part.

And then, there comes the smoking habit. I have come to the conclusion that at any moment half Milanese are holding a cigarette in their hand. At least half the people whom I see in the street are puffing out smoke. This negated my first impression that the people of Milan are very conscious about their health, as finding an overweight person here is a rarity. I had thought that with all the delicious calorie-rich Italian dishes, these people should be doing something big to get into shape. Then, I was really thinking about adapting some of their habits, unless it is the smoking which is burning the fat.

Nevertheless, Italians seem to be the European version of Iranians; the same ever-present sense of humor, the sudden storm of friendship, and the horrible driving.

By the way, I have discovered that people, including Italians, are willing to pay large amounts of cash for things I cannot even swallow, including cheese which seems to have been rotting for years. This I guess proves the theory that we don’t like food because it is delicious, but that it is in fact the other way around; food is delicious because we like it. This one is especially to all my Iranian friends who hate it, and the non-Iranian friends who have to keep themselves from throwing up, when I say I love sheep-stomach, also known as Sirabi in Persian.

Reader's Comments

Alireza | December 21st, 2007 at 2:48 pm
Arash jan, sorry for my directness, but in Canada you get a passport that gives you ability to travel. In Canada, you are a lost soul! in Europe, you learn fine dinning and values that you don’t learn in North America.
The cheese you probably talking about if it is well served, you will be amazed! So, enjoy your North American experiences, I am soon it will be changed!
shad bashi,

Kamangir: “soon it will be changed”, why? I love Canada!
arthemis | December 21st, 2007 at 4:39 pm
Italians (and French for that matter) will not throw up at Sirabi, they eat it too, it’s “trippa” — shame that you did not get to try trippa al pomodoro while in Milan…
ella | December 23rd, 2007 at 10:31 am
Hmm…. it seems that if sirabi is the same as trippa, then poles eat it too. In polish language sirabi means flaczki. And I love flaczki. ;-)
ella | December 23rd, 2007 at 10:49 am
BTW in poland “flaki/flaczki” are not made from sheep stomach but from beef stomach. And some foreigners do throw up, too.
Here is a comment of one guy who went to Poland: i went to poland with my polish friend in the summer and i liked flaki until i was told what it was and now i can’t eat it lol
Lisa | December 24th, 2007 at 5:24 pm
Oh Kam, thanks for this post. I laughed out loud.
Antonello | December 25th, 2007 at 2:14 pm
Salam, khubi? haq ba tost, we italians are the european versione of iranians! did you see Rome? if not, you have to. I’m an italian reporter in love with your native country. I wrote a book called “Boys from Teheran”. If you want take a kook at my on line magazine http://www.ilcassetto.it
Keep in touch.

Khoda Hafez
antonello

Kamangir: Nice to meet you Antonello. I loved Italian too. They are just so friendly and so outgoing.
Frieda | December 26th, 2007 at 10:16 am
Glad you are back sound and safe. Italians do indeed LIVE IIFE FULLY and that’s why we have so much beauty coming out of that country. Their architectural talent, their car designs, fashion, food, literature, paintings and love of living. I guess we can forgive them for their habits of smoking and eating some odd cheeses!

Kamangir: I totally agree.
Roxie | December 26th, 2007 at 11:29 am
The Italians have some historical architecture, which I was first exposed to it beginning at age eight when I lived in Asmara, Eritrea. They are indeed delightful people as well, but the people in Winterpeg are often more friendly then their American counterparts, at least that is what I noticed when I traveled from Minnesnowta to Winterpeg.
dalMondo.info | December 28th, 2007 at 5:08 am
“the horrible driving” in Milan? ah ah ah, you have to come and see Rome or Naples then!
If you will ever come to Rome, please e-mail me!
ciao
Giovanni B.
Hamid | December 28th, 2007 at 2:19 pm
Oh dam, I had the choice of going to Italy nearly 30 years ago and instead I went to England - now I really regret it - I am sure my personality would have been spot on with the Italians especially that I love to be extremely theatrical when I talk, exactly like our Italian friends — when I imagine myself talking in Italian the way I act I even make myself laugh sometimes - what a pitty & what a shame that I did not go to Italy those many years ago!

PS- No sirabi for me please, I hate the thought of, the looks of and the smell of it!!
nachtwache | January 5th, 2008 at 7:57 am
Sirabi gets eaten all over the world, disguised under different names, in English it’s ‘tripe’, in German it’s ‘Kutteln’ and I don’t want to eat it, whatever it’s called. One of my Iranian co-workers had lived and worked in Italy as an architect for years, before coming to Canada. He wishes he had stayed in Italy.