“I think I’m having a mid life crisis” I tell the Mother “Well you always were advanced for your age’ she reassures me. I do though, at the ripe old age of 28 I have become acutely aware of how fast the weeks fly by me and I’ve developed a sense of panic, am I really doing enough with my life? When I look back on my life will it be safe in the knowledge that I lived each day to the fullest?
The thing about getting older is it kind of creeps up on you until one day you’re doing all the things that you thought were only for “old” people and you’d never do. I mean, when did I start liking red wine so much? Choosing a bar based on weather or not I am likely to be able to sit down? Since when did sleep become so enjoyable, literally if I don’t get my 8 hours a night you do not want to cross me. Why do my hangovers now last about 4 days??
Granted my recent 4am anxiety attacks may have been somewhat induced by the company I was working for going bankrupt and rendering me, well, unemployed. Strangely this unexpected turn of events didn’t in fact worry me in itself, instead I realised here I was, with no real commitments, I could pretty much do whatever I wanted. What panicked me was the thought I may waste this once in a lifetime experience. Life is good and I was free, free as a bird, I wanted to make it count. This would not become the gateway to a Jeremy Kyle addiction and a penchant for clothing with elasticated waistbands. Not on my watch!
Anyone whose read my blog before will know that I’ve always been enchanted by pizza, In fact I’d go so far to say a little obsessed. I once read a whole book about pizza; many of you may already know the “Pizza Margherita” dates back to 1898 when Neapolitan pizza maker created a pizza topped with tomato, mozzarella and basil to represent the colours of the Italian flag for the Queen consort of Italy, Margherita of Savoy. It’s always been a local specialty of Naples, being sold from open-air stands by the slice. In fact the Neapolitans are so passionate about their beloved pizza they founded the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana that set out specific rules and guidelines that must be followed for an authentic Neapolitan pizza. I wont bore you with the details but believe me they take it all pretty seriously. Don’t even say the words stuffed crust if a Neapolitan pizzaioli is in earshot.
I’d always wanted to go to Naples to try an authentic pizza and after a little googling I realised I could not only try it, but also learn how to make it too, in a charming little cookery school just outside of Naples in Sorrento called Mami Camillla. Before I had chance to chicken out I took the bull by the horns and paid my deposit. So, when life gives you lemons do you A: Make lemonade. B: Say fuck the lemons and bail. Or C: go somewhere you can consume a considerable amount of Lemoncello. I’ll be taking the latter, with a generous helping of pizza making too.
Expect recipes on my return, and instagram pictures (@lucynev) while I learn, see you in a week….well if I come back ;-)