So, picture this.
Big city girl, excited about her first day with the internet in the 70 person Italian hamlet she lives in. To get better internet reception, she goes outside in the pitch black night, sits on a plastic chair and relishes in internet freedom. There are animal noises and birds and rustlings in the bushes, but she assumes they are dogs, small animals, nothing serious. Typing, typing, typing…and then…behind her, on the one street that runs through ‘town’…a feral sounding growling and grunting, wet sounding noise. She jumps up, screams and runs for dear life towards the door to the house. Heart racing. Was it a wild boar? Hilarious, couldn’t be. THat’s crazy. Maybe it was a werewolf, a vampire. Something like that. Next day, on caffe break, she mentions the encounter with the werewolf, wildboar vampire, and her coworkers confirm, indeed, a wild boar, cinghiale. It’s cinghiale hunting season.
City girl vs. cinghiale.
City Girl 0
PETA beware. Animal creulty ahead.
This week, we were treated with buckets full of live gambero di fiume (shrimp, 4 inches long). I did not expect we would dispatch of them quite the way we did. The chef picked one up, ripped off the tail, its pinchers flailing, trying to retaliate at its murderer. She then ripped the mid-section of the tail out to remove the….poop, and yanked the pinchers off. Dividing each into a separate pile for us to continue the torture of every last gambero. They continued to move, crawl around and feel about for a full hour after they had been separated. Wow. Turns out they are on our fall menu so I will be torturing gambero with my bare hands for the entire season.