once the moka quieted down, i poured myself a cup and took a sip. this can’t be right, i thought. did i put too much in? did i burn it? why does it taste like i’m eating burned dirt? becky woke up, and came into the living room.

this coffee is awful, want a cup?

“no thanks,” she replied, “i’ll have some at work.”

for two days, i’d sat there, sipping my mud, struggling to get through each cup. “it’s okay,” i thought, “at least it will wake me up.” but it never woke me up. i tried brewing it differently. i’d brew it weaker, stronger, and even with different water. i criticized siena for it’s poor taste in coffee, and protested the idea of having to go to a bar for a decent cup of espresso. i was longing for a cup of capricorn’s moka java when it dawned on me.

this is not coffee.

i went back to the package and translated:

our toasted barley is roasted on wood coals using traditional methods passed on from generation to generation. it makes a light and delicious natural drink containing no stimulants, to be enjoyed by both adults and children, and particularly by those involved in sports. add milk to it and you will get a delicious drink called “cappucino senesino”

this mishap is right up there with the first time i tried kombucha, and chugged it like it was a cold; refreshing iced tea. moral: beware the temptation of appealing packaging, sometimes it has a bad aftertaste.

The checker said something to us we didn’t understand…. then he held up grocery bags and said “Quattro?”. Todd said, “si” and I said, “I don’t know how every many it takes”. As it turns out you have to buy grocery bags, that’s why he was asking. So we got 4 bags.

Then it was time to pay for produce. He picked up our pear and said to me, “Kaiser”. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Is he German?” So I went back to where we got the pear and found number on the sign. I came back and said “14” then drew a one and a four in the palm of my hand. He just kept saying, “Kaiser”. Then with a frantic grin, he motioned for me to follow him. He took me and Todd back to produce and showed us there is this little weighing machine that you put that number 14 into and it prints a sticker to tell you how much your produce costs. He printed our sticker and another lesson was learned. The pear was a Kaiser pear, by the way.

Besides Todd’s barley coffee mishap, we made some other interesting purchases. When we arrived home, we realized we had bought:

• Laundry softener instead of Laundry soap
• Barley tea instead of coffee
• Liquid dishsoap instead of the dishwasher detergent

the dishsoap, by the way, made a lovely rabid, foaming at the mouth, dishwasher in our kitchen – a good tip that we bought the wrong soap.

Our second trip to the store was yesterday. This time we brought and used our little Italian language book.

well, we don’t roll like that. i’m a fiend for lightweight keychains. i don’t like to carry a lot of stuff with me, and i don’t like the added bulge of keys. a hardware shop is a short walk from our flat, and so off i went. just up and over the hill, about fifty meters and i’m there.

the shop is small and cluttered; charming in my book. a man greeted me, “sera”. it was about four o’clock in the afternoon. “sera,” i replied, and paused. how the hell am i gonna ask for a keyring? i sifted through my pocket, and began, “vorrei due…”

i held up a key and formed a ring with my fingers.

“ah, uno anello chiave.” the man smiled, and signaled to follow him. through a maze of racks and shelves and benches, he led me to a chest where he opened four or five draws. there, as vanna white would, he presented an assortment of keyrings large and small.

“perfecto! due piccolo.”

it may not have been perfect italian, but it got the job done. two small keyrings, in the pocket. now, for adapters.

our flat has two types of electrical outlets. i’m calling them little ones and big ones, but i’m sure there’s a right name for each. since we brought an adapter and a standard american surge strip with us, we were off to a good start. however, with phone chargers, cameras and computers and the lot, a couple extra adapters are good thing to have around. i looked around the hardware store for an outlet, but none were found. instead,

i stood there, with a fist and two fingers stabbing madly at the air.

“una adattatore!” the man scurried over to another part of the store and held up a few examples. the smile on his face said it all – this was the most fun he’d had all week. after all, how often do you get to play charades at work?