Burrata cheese replaced my burrito…Campari is the new Cuervo

Friday, September 13, marked seven months since I arrived in Italia. If you’re thinking, after reading the title, this post is about Mexican food, I’m sorry to disappoint you. It’s not. It’s something else a bit that I have been experiencing these last few weeks as I celebrated my 49th birthday (reason enough to be anxious), crossed the seven-month anniversary of my Italian life and had a sentimental encounter in London with of all things, a Chipotle restaurant. I call this latest emotional mood swing: the seven-month itch, or “Burrata cheese replaced my burrito…Campari is the new Cuervo.”

Last weekend the Italiano and I took a short trip to London for the weekend. We had intentions of seeing a West End production of a musical and taking a few days to walk and shop one of my favorite cities. I have always enjoyed London since my first visit in my early 20s.  For Americans, London is sort of “European lite.”  The language is the same, but playfully different to our ears. The sights are recognizable, like many European capitals, but there’s nothing too shocking about arriving that would make a naïve American traveler want to jump back on a plane and head back to the familiar shores of the US.  It’s just different and exciting enough to make you want to stay and explore the rest of Europe.

We arrived last Friday, checked into our hotel, and then set about attempting to find tickets to a musical performance. Many shows were almost sold out, but we were able to secure a pair to a musical we wanted to see, “Come from Away”. As a side note, it’s a great musical about the effects of 9/11 on the small town of Gander, Newfoundland. I highly recommend seeing it. 

We had dinner before the show and decided to find ourselves some gelato to enjoy on our walk to the theatre. We only departed Italia 11 hours before, but I am Italiano now, so 12 hours is the maximum amount of time I can be apart from gelato. As we searched for an acceptable place and crossed an intersection, I spotted a Chipotle Restaurant, a “healthy” Mexican fast-food chain based in the US.  

Now, we all have memory triggers. Why mine happens to be a Chipotle restaurant, of course, has a backstory.  The last few years in Palm Desert, Darin and I had established this routine just about every Sunday. One of us would drive to Chipotle and order take-out Mexican food. We would then sit in the living room and binge-watch Netflix for a few hours.  It was a simple ritual, but we enjoyed it as we prepared for our week ahead.

When I saw this one in London, I immediately got a sentimental jolt­–memories of Sunday evenings, conversations based on love, surrounded by spicy flavors and salty Jose Cuervo tequila margaritas. I attempt to restrain my emotions and casually point it out to the Italiano and tell him, “That’s the only fast food chain I occasionally miss from the US.” What I really felt was a moment of recognizing where I have been, how far I have come, and how much has really changed in seven months. I don’t think I’ve allowed myself to acknowledge that I actually do miss those things and those comfortable experiences.

Being surrounded by my native language, seeing familiar places that had significance in my past, and walking past landmarks that I have known since my early-20s, gave me several lump-in-my-throat moments. I remembered taking my mother to London in the late 90s. We ended our trip to London by attending Les Miserables, both of us crying at the end of the performance. Several years later when my niece graduated from school, I surprised her and my sister with a trip to London. We also watched Les Miserable on our final night in London, and again, we all cried at the end. Believe it or not, I actually suggested that show to the Italiano. Thankfully, he suggested we see something new for both of us. I can’t imagine how I would have dealt with the ending a third time.

So, this seven-month itch has been on my mind since then. I would like to believe that after months of meeting wonderful people, seeing amazing places and having incredible experiences, these things from the past wouldn’t pull so hard, but they do.

Even the small comforts from home have a psychological price tag. I have been hoarding my last tubes of Cherry Chapstick. If one goes missing or finds its way into the washing machine, I feel a sense of loss. I covet a Nabisco NutterButter cookie like a Mercedes convertible. I know, it’s crazy what stirs those feelings.

Please don’t misinterpret this as a call for care packages. I have detailed restocking plans in place for the important stuff. Anyone visiting me in Europe now may be asked to be a potential “carrier mule.” What I think it means is that I have to arrive at a settled point in Italia, where I appreciate new comforts, habits, and traditions. I am thankful for what the last seven months has given me, and how it has shaped me into who I have become. I have no plans to go back, but I do need to keep moving forward and appreciate the things that create new memories. It’s ok to have those longings for things that are familiar, but in my new life I need to be satisfied that burrata cheese replaced my burrito…Campari is the new Cuervo, while always appreciating those moments that will be printed into permanence.

My new life amongst my fellow European citizens, is what I want to create now. I have spent the last seven months preparing to live here, now I just need to live.  Stay tuned.

Thank you for following The Spaghetti Diaries. If you want to follow my blog, please subscribe in the box below, and If you like what you read, please pass it on to others through your social media page or sending a link via email.