There is a pleasant trend ramping up in Europe: turning the Supermarket back toward its roots in the grand covered markets of Europe.

Eataly Turin, housed in an old Vermouth factory just outside the Lingotto center, is one of these successful transformations. Slow Food consults on the products. You can go there to shop, eat, drink, or get educated on where food comes from. Producers of goods on the shelves are profiled.

It's odd seeing tables with people socializing, eating great food and drinking wine right in the middle of the supermarket. After you get used to it you end up thinking, "gee, what a great idea! Fill a store full of the sustainable production from farmers who care, then cook it up for folks who want to eat in a lively environment."

You can have a full meal, munch on tapas, or fill your wine bottles from huge barrels. Or you traditionalists can just shop for great products that have the blessing of the Slow Food people.

And there's an Eataly recently opened in Milan as well: Piazza 5 Giornate, inside COIN, floor -1

Go. Eataly if you can.

Where do you buy your nativity scene characters? One of the most famous markets is found on a narrow, medieval street in Naples known as Via San Gregorio Armeno. Police shut the place down recently, after a battle with unlicensed vendors. All is well now.

You know what the favorite characters are at the moment? Obama is in. So are Carla Bruni and Nicolas Sarkozy.

Yes, Italians have been known to add recent characters to their presepe. The photo above shows a section of the enormous 19th century nativity scene found at Caserta's royal palace, which includes Italians of the day sitting down for a meal of pasta.

You can visit Caserta as a day trip from Naples.

But today I went to the other market, the one that actually works for folks instead of against them. The food market.

Here's what ticked me off about food markets and money. Until today I was under the distinct impression that only folks in the US were strickened with the disease that leaves a shopper so mesmerized by the sight of food merrily trundling down the conveyor belt that s/he forgets to get the money out or start writing the check to pay for all that stuff.

Data collected as recent as this morning shows that my assumptions were incorrect. This odd behavior is apparently not, as I had assumed, genetic.

For there before me with her 346 items piled high in front of her was an Italian woman who for all the world looked like she had been struck dumb by God, as if her blood had thickened and her limbs become clogged and perhaps she would, at a moments notice, start speaking in tongues. To the ceiling no less.

In short, her behavior, as her culinary choices passed by the red laser and were entered into the database, was quite similar to American politicians during a crisis; stand there and look completely idiotic.

In any case, by the time the last few gigabytes of her enormous number of items were safely stored in the database, a line had formed that threatened to extend to the trippa department, and hardly anyone wanted that.

It was at this moment that the women came out of her trance and finally began searching for her wallet. It is absolutely amazing the number of places it might have been but wasn't. People were talking. Some were playing chess. One had been removed with some sort of liver problem and was resting comfortably in (the) hospital.

I, of course was observing. I had had the foresight to purchase prosciutto, a cured meat which isn't likely to go bad in check-out lines.

You can't go wrong with prosciutto, salami, and some hard pasta. These are odd and disturbing times. You need things that last long and cost little. The prosciutto was on sale. €10 a kilo. It almost made it all worthwhile.

There are lots of ways to turn cauliflower into a topping for pasta, but most contain the secret ingredient: anchovy. It's a nice combo.

My recipe is very simple. It's for folks who don't want to end up doing a lot of dishes. After all, you're on vacation, no? It takes a pot to boil the cauliflower--and later the pasta, and one to saute the ingredients you see above, plus some olive oil and the optional ingredient: peperoncini, hot red peppers.

It's a white dish, so you can also add chopped parsley at the end to give it some color.

Ingredients: Pasta (I'd use penne), a head of cauliflower, garlic to taste, 4-6 salted anchovies, olive oil, and grating cheese.

Boil the water, then add some salt, a short palmful of sale grosso big salt crystals for a large pot. Add the cauliflower and boil it until it's quite soft.

Remove the cauliflower and let sit on the board to cool while you chop the garlic and anchovies. Heat a pan, add 4 tablespoons of olive oil or so and add the garlic, anchovies, and hot peppers and cook until the garlic is soft.

Start the pasta. Chop the cauliflower (or put it in a bowl and squash it with a fork) and add it to the pan to warm in the oil.

When the pasta is al dente, drain and add to the pot with the cauliflower, garlic and oil. If the pasta doesn't coat with the sauce, add some fresh oil and give it a toss while it's still on the heat.

Then all you need to do is turn it out onto the plates and serve with the grated cheese.

Variations: You can add chopped tomatoes, or cover the pasta with homemade breadcrumbs. It's a gutsy sauce, so it goes well with whole wheat or farro pasta if you prefer.

Somewhere in Ascoli Piceno in the Marche region, the Italian food formula seemed to go awry for just a second. Somebody was undoubtedly sitting in a cellar one night, a bit buzzed no doubt, and thought, "hey, why don't we get some really big olives, stuff them with ground up meat and garlic and some other things, then bread them and deep fry them?"

Well, I'm glad this all turned out ok in the end and nobody sober nixed the idea. I like Olive Ascolane. A few of them are perfect with an aperitivo in a bar. I get them at our local market at the place that sells the spinning chickens for €7.

Even if you don't know Italian, you can point to these golden orbs (see the picture above - don't you just want one?!) and indicate you'd like a few. Then when the vendor slides a big, fat, spoon under them and starts filling a bag you can just say, "basta!" and he'll likely stop within the next two scoops.

You should at least learn the word "basta." You might need it when a vendor or ne'er do well starts bugging you. It's a good word to know.

Well, that's basta for now. I've got Olive Ascolane to eat.

We looked over the balcony last evening to see our neighbor Enrico unraveling and cleaning the bright orange nets they arrange at the foot of olive trees to catch olives at harvest time. He explained that the ulivetto or olive grove was just over the hill, and we should visit, as it was in a beautiful spot. He pegs the harvest at the middle of October.

So we made plans to walk up the hill and see it the next morning, then go to the Saturday Open Air Market in Aulla. Enrico assured us that it wouldn't rain, maybe a few sprinkles in the evening...

Well, it's raining cats and dogs, gatti e cani.

Which means that we probably won't be going to the local sagra di porcini, a communal feast of porcini mushrooms, the promise of which has had our mouths watering all week. Enrico commented on those plans as well, waving a finger and making that tsk-tsk sound Italians make when you're wrong about something.

"It hasn't rained in 3 months. You won't get having fresh porcini, don't kid yourself."

Oh, yeah. We hadn't thought about that.

But with this rain....

After an almost sleepless night, a result of the "cannone" or large canons blasting away all night to keep the cinghiale (wild boar) out of the corn with probably some remnants of jet lag thrown in, we arose to an absolutely perfect day, sunny and clear as a bell, the Apennines all aglow. Who says bad things about off-season weather? He should be shot. So should the cinghiale, and he'd go good over polenta.

Anyway, after throwing on some clothes we went to the Fivizzano open air market, food, household items, clothing, and porchetta trucks circling the Medici fountain in the center of town.

We bought vegetables, of course.

But that wasn't the half of it. When we entered our favorite butcher shop to get some sausages and chicken for a mixed grill, there was the most beautiful torta d'erba I'd ever seen sitting in a glass case like museums use for royal jewels. Our wedge of it is pictured above.

It was still warm from the wood-fired oven, stuffed with all manner of field greens and potatoes. We're having it for lunch and dinner. Mmmm.

And just in case you want to see what shopping at the Tuesday morning market in Fivizzano is like, and what the food costs that we bought, check out the movie: Fivizzano Tuesday Market.

Happy shopping!

Got a note from Andrew Zimmern of the television show Bizarre Foods the other day informing me that he'll be doing a show in Sicily this season on the Travel Channel, for those of you in the US who get it.

I immediately wondered what bizzare foods were left after Antony Bourdain ravaged the place for television a while back.

In any case, a little research shows that two of Zimmern's favorite markets are in Sicily, the Vucciria Market in the centro storico around Piazza San Domenico, and Ballaro Market in the Albergheria district.

Anyway, the Sicily episode of Bizarre foods will air on November 16th. I'll be in Italy, without a television. You know, there's that television tax and all.

(What's your favorite market in Italy? Leave a comment!)

Sometimes I really don't understand folks who think they can "do" Florence (or Rome, or Paris, or Piano di Collecchia) in a small fraction of a day.

Florence is a beautiful small city, and has a lot to see. I made a mistake by not staying one or two nights there. I thought I could visit and see everything in a few hours. Wrong !!

Thus speaks Mr. Apa Kabar. Yes, Apa, wrong indeed. You see, not only didn't you see much, you forgot to take a minute (or an hour) to let it all soak in, like those guys in the picture. Sometimes a destination requires a particular state of relaxation to do it justice.

Last year we spent some time in a wonderful villa in the hills above Florence. A downhill walk took us down through narrow country lanes, pleasant and leafy, sometimes with stacked rock walls alongside--arriving at the Ponte Vecchio, pictured in the distance above, in a half hour or so. What a glorious walk!

I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm not much for Florence in the summertime. I didn't come to Italy to hear English spoken with the same frequency you might experience in, say, Chicago. I didn't come for the sweltering heat.

But in the off-season, Florence can rock. In a villa looking down on it, Florence can be the twinkling light on the horizon that makes your wanderlust seem like less of a disease.

Take time; see Florence right. Rent a villa. Take a look at a map of Florence's major attractions.Go to the Mercato di San Lorenzo, Florence's central market (it's near the train station) and get yourself something to eat at a trattoria (or something to take home to your villa).

Don't be like Mr. Kabar and think you can "do" Florence in a couple hours. Sheesh, Italians take that long just to eat.