Sono Arrivata

It's Tuesday and I've officially been a Milanese expat for 40 hours.

As the sliding glass doors at the Malpensa airport slid open, I immediately caught Giulio's eye and ran to him. We rushed to the least crowded area of the airport and enjoyed a stereotypically long and romantic embrace- bags went flying and we went spinning, our hearts recklessly beating.

I had been so locked onto Giulio that I didn't even notice the huge (HUGE) sign he had posted over the guardrail: "WE DID IT". It's a special phrase we use with each other whenever he/I/we kick serious ass. Once we made it (slowly, feeble-knee'd) to the car, the romance continued. Giulio had brought me a bouquet of magnolias and roses from his parent's garden- paying a careful homage to my olfactory bulb. He then presented me with a small brown box and gently asked me to open it, revealing my very own set of shiny news keys to our apartment. Also on the dashboard lay a white paper bag which I quickly unrolled to find a collection of beautiful handmade sweets and pastries. Smells. 

We drove into the city, smiling uncontrollably as if we were abusing a cocktail of illicit drugs. Opting to first unload my suitcases and then head out for a bite,  I walked into our bedroom (our!!) to find a beautiful arrangement of orchids as well as a stack of pedantically wrapped gift boxes embossed with hand-painted hearts. (another beautiful dress, perfect to wear to the San Raffaele University party on Wednesday night). Melt.

I quickly changed and then Giulio grabbed my hand, whisking me out of our place and into Non Solo Lesso- (the same place he took me for lunch the first time I came to Milan, thus confirming it as my favorite restaurant in the city). We polished off a bottle of Prosecco, shared a plate of pasta medditerreano and mixed vegetables (cotti e crudi), as well as a table of small plates including cheese rolled in prosciutto, rabbit, lard, and pork (tartare?). The wait staff knows Giulio and remembered me from our last rendezvous, once again presenting themselves as overly kind, complimentary, and generous with us. 

The following morning, Giulio and I went to the bar across the street for a typical Italian breakfast- cornetto e cappuccino. It was heavenly sitting in the warm sun, staring into my love's big brown eyes, and enjoying such palatable perfection. We lingered for a while over breakfast and then Giulio scurried off for his day of work at the hospital. 

our breakfast nook

the balcony in our apartment looking over the park

I returned home, opting to study Italian for several hours before letting the jetlag get the best of me. Mid-afternoon I went for a long walk through the city, attempting to get lost and orient my internal compass. Milan is bustling, filled with beautiful people and beautiful shops. Every cafe, restaurant, and gelateria is absolutely enticing; my senses are aglow.

il duomo

the city center

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In the early evening, Giulio returned home with a single, long-stemmed calla lily, hugged and kissed me sweetly, and then took me out for an apertivo (negroni spagliato) at a posh bar down the road. Afterward, we stopped by the supermarket to pick up fresh tomatoes, onions, linguine, anchovies, parmesan, and a bottle of red wine which Giulio effortlessly whipped up into the most delicious meal EVER. We passed out almost immediately.

breakfast in bed

(And as if this dream couldn't already get any better, this is what I woke up to this morning- coffee and his hand-made torta di rose).

Everything is in it's right place...

Bella Italia!