It’s bittersweet. Sometimes I want to scream and shout, throw things and just leave. However, there are moments when simple pleasures win my heart: a leisurely lunch and a fabulous bottle of wine shared with friends; the glint of passion in a farmer’s eye as he explains the history of a nearly forgotten fruit he has lovingly cultivated; or the bus driver who drops me off at my door after a hard day at work. All of this keeps me coming back for more, even after having left two years ago with no intention of coming back.

My relationship with Italy is dysfunctional, passionate and largely irrational, like so many great love affairs. I know I am not the only one who has lived this kind of experience, but it is interesting that my most troubled relationships are with places and not people. On the bus back from Pollenzo last night, Allyson and I were discussing this phenomenon. It would seem that at the University of Gastronomic Sciences there other troubled lovers of this complex, un po stronza but lovely country. Italia, we are trying to love you but it is not always easy!