Otavalo, is a city in the Imbabura province just 2 hours North from Quito by bus.  The city is known throughout the country for being very indigenous and faithful to its Incan heritage, the men sport long hair kept in pony tails topped off with a fedora hat and peacock feather, while the women wear white blouses with colorful skirts and long strings of beads around their necks. (more…)

“I was born at the bottom of your dreams”

-Ryan, brainstorming the first line of our novel

The first day I arrived in Roccafranca I was informed that my Italian dad’s 29-year-old brother Giovanni was in the market for a wife and I was a suitable match.  Really, I was just the first new girl in town since last summer’s ACLE tutors.  But every time I met a new grandmother, aunt, uncle, cousin or friend of the family they immediately said, “You-Giovanni.  Very good.  Yes.”

Seeing as almost every man under 30 here would be a top contender for The Jersey Shore Season 3, I was not optimistic about this proposed arranged marriage.  But when my “mom” told me Giovanni would like to take me to the scenic Lake Garda with his two friends, I was all over it – as long as my sister could come.  We really hadn’t met anyone our own age and were eager to see where they went out.

So a couple nights ago Perrin and I hopped in a BMW and headed out with the boys.  A couple things stood out:

Me and Giovanni, my 29-year-old Italian “uncle”, in Autocool, a 24-7 convenience store where you can gamble in the slot machines or buy fresh fruit, DVDs, board games, Gelato and more! Giovanni has a graphic t-shirt, ripped jeans and a man purse. 100% standard look for men here.

1. They drive as if they were in Super Mario Kart.  Mika, our driver, went at least 90mph down a one lane highway the whole trip and zipped around other cars like we had the special star shield around us and could go through anything in our path.  It was mildly terrifying and we won’t be doing it again.  They blasted U2 the whole way though, which was a welcome language barrier buffer.

Perrin dancing to U2's "Elevation" blaring in the background.

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So, here’s the deal.

Jed (the editor) and I (Brian) are heading down to NYC this weekend to attend TBX (the Travel Blog Exchange).  Well not attend really since we didn’t get tickets, but at least hit up all the parties and lunches.  Anyway, point being that we do not actually have a place to stay.  That’s where the awesome friends part comes in.  If you live in NYC have an extra couch or floor you don’t mind us using Friday and Sat night and are a fan of new friends, well then, drop us a line (brian@jetsetzero.tv).

Here are things that we’ve got going for us as guests:

• Not sketchy
• Awesome
• Filled with stories of adventure
• Courteous, Polite, and well mannered
• We will bring a couple six packs of tasty beer or a bottle of wine for you as a token of appreciation (your choice!)

Pretty good deal if I do say so myself. 

As time is of the essence, let us know soon (brian@jetsetzero.tv). 

Your new friends!  (Brian: Left, Jed: Right)

Edison, 12 years old,  was a  boy I happened to meet while walking around Quito´s many plazas in the historical center. (more…)

I went from living on a farm, to having the ultimate farm-to-table experience in my Tuscan host family.  In addition to carbo-loading, I’m getting to taste a parade of organic veggies and locally grown fruit purchased at a discount by my host family and a group of others in Arezzo who are members of G.A.S.  Not as amusing an acronym as the F.A.R.T. factory I used to live near in Treviso, G.A.S. stands for Gruppi di Acquisto Solidale and its members join together to promote sustainable farming and local growers.

Yesterday, I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of two rickety crates on the kitchen table overflowing with fiori di zucchini (zucchini flowers).  I have a mild addiction to these yellow blossoms of magic (deep fried, clearly) and have never seen so many in one place before.

I heart zucchini flowers

And today, I saw this mysterious looking green stuff on the table.  I found out that it’s called agretti and to me, it tastes like spinach-flavored seaweed with an arugola bite.  In Tuscany it’s eaten with heavy hitting extra virgin olive oil and salt, to complement the unsalted Tuscan bread.

Agretti in Italian, Friar's Beard in English

This is the epicenter of freshness:

Inside my Tuscan Kitchen

(Version française plus bas)

Have you ever noticed that sugar doesn’t have a smell?

Well, Ecuadorian sugar has one. Ecuadorian sugar, or rather, panela. Panela is solidified sugar cane juice. Ecuadorians use it as a sweetener for a lot of things and, let me tell you, it tastes (and smells) like heaven.

On my very first trip to the grocery store I bought a huge round chunk of panela. “If I’m going to cook here,” I thought, “I’m going to do it the Ecuadorian way!”

Panela: solidified sugar cane juice Ecuadorians use as a sweetener.

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“I prefer singing and dancing at gay clubs, not in classrooms”

-Freddie, on his likes and dislikes

(Version française plus bas)

North of Quito is a little rural parish called Calderón. In Calderón is a very specific craft industry: mazapán.

Quite many inhabitants participate in that art by making colorful ornaments and figurines with wheat flour, maizena or bread. It is known as Mazapán.

After school, children help their parents make Mazapán figurines. But those say it is hard to live on that industry only.

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