WANAfriday: Your Favorite (Cat) Quote, Of Course

The WANAfriday prompt this week is to cite your favorite quote, but choosing a favorite quote is like going into an exquisite little Italian bakery and pastry shop in Poggibonsi, Italy, and trying to pick out only one delectable item. (You can read more about that here: Italy: Breakfast (La Prima Colazione) in Poggibonsi, Tuscany, Italy.)

How about a cheesy loaf of bread served with rosemary infused olive oil or a crusty roll flavored with pesto and garlic;

a crusty, hollow rosetta roll just ready for some butter and jam or thin slices of ham and cheese;

a deep-crust pizza topped with tomatoes, cheese, and basil;  

or a limone tarte, carnetto (sweet croissants), la sfogliatella (filled, flaky-layered pastries), crostata di frutta (fruit-filled rustic tarts), tiramisu, an amaretti (small amaretto-flavored cookies).

Each delectable offering is irresistable and taunting. How can I just choose one? How about a little of this and a little of that. And maybe that other one for later in the morning.

It’s just as bad as going into a gelato shop and having to choose one flavor. Nope, it can’t be done.

Well, you can try.

And choosing a favorite quote is as hard as choosing a favorite kitten from a box of sweetie-pies sitting outside the neighborhood grocery store. Just impossible.

But I must admit, that I do have a few favorite quotes that I toss out from time to time. And wouldn’t you know, most of them are about: cats. Cats and poems about cats make me smile.

T.S. Eliot in Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats (later to become CATS, the Broadway musical) has some of my favorite lines, starting with:

The naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn’t one of your holiday games.
You may thing at first I’m as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
. . .
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified.
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his wishers, or cherish his pride?
. . .

There’s more to this delicious cat-naming silliness, but you’ll have to pull it up on Internet yourself.

Royalty, Photo Credit: Elsie the Cat

The Last Meow

How does one name a feline of such obvious royal character and lineage? Now tell me. T.S. Eliot got it right:

But above and beyond there’s still one name left over.
And that is the name that you never will guess;
 The name that no human research can discover-
But the CAT HIMSELF KNOW, and will never confess.

Meow for now. =<^ ; ^>=

Here are some favorite quotes of a few of my WANA112 blogger buddies:

Ellen Gregory reminds you that Your Stories Matter
Cora Ramos shares Four Steps to Writing a Novel
Kim Griffin presents Understanding Life and Ice Cream Happiness

By the way, what have you named the royal king, queen, prince, or princess in your household? And does your cat approve of this earthly name? I’ll write a post next week on the royal names you send to me.

Italy: Breakfast (La Prima Colazione) in Poggibonsi, Tuscany

We had some good laughs in Poggibonsi, a Tuscany town south of Florence.

Of course, that’s primarily because we got caught in those traffic round-abouts and sometimes couldn’t decide which exit we needed. Third time around, and the laughter got louder! “Go around again, Christine.” (Ah, two crazy Americanos, Carol and Jan; and two nutty Norwegians, Christine and Inger-Anne!)

We were looking for the exit towards San Gimignano, the location of our villa, Il Borghetto. (You can read my earlier post on Il Borghetto here.) We also needed to find the entrance to the PAM, a local grocery store, because we needed some supplies for our villa stay. We could see the PAM, but we couldn’t see the entrance.

But discovery became part of the adventure.

Just after taking the Poggibonsi Nord exit of the Sienna-Florence Autostrada, we found ourselves on a desperate mission to locate a restroom for two members of our party.

Our first off-highway possibility was a bakery to our immediate left.  Christine, our intrepid driver, whipped our Mercedes SUV (!) across the road into their uphill parking lot. It was near closing time, so we didn’t investigate all of their goodies, but mentally promised to visit the next morning for breakfast possibilities. (They graciously let us use their facilities.)

The next morning, we visited the bakery again and were not disappointed.

We entered and were greeted by a friendly owner, his assistants, and a dozen locals. We ogled all the mouth-watering possibilities in the showcases: limone tarte, carnetto (sweet croissants), pizza, la sfogliatella (filled, flaky-layered pastries), crostata di frutta (fruit-filled rustic tarts), tiramisu, amaretti (small ameretto-flavored cookies), and so much more.

Big round loaves of crusty bread in almost-ready-to-tumble piles, large rectangles of rosemary accented foccacia, and baskets of crusty rolls (il panino) filled all available space behind the service counter.

The foccacia, as large as cookie sheets, stood in a rack behind the counter. Tell the clerk how many inches you want (or show her), and she cuts it to order. I got “about this much.” It was delicious with nothing more than its natural flavorings: buttered, salted top with rosemary accent.

We went from case to case pointing out delicious-looking possibilities. Decision, decisions. In the end, we all settled for something different.

Our bakery selection and a cup of cappuchino, espresso, or caffe macchiato (espresso with cream) made for an hour’s entertainment and a good breakfast that left us smiling for the rest of the day.

And better yet, after a few days, we figured out the round-abouts and could find our San Gimignano exit on our first try!

YOUR TURN

What would you like to try at this little Italian bakery?