Angela Petch > Quotes

“young believe they will be young forever, and the old have always been old.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“How lovely is youth Which is over far too soon! Grab your happiness while you may: There is no certainty in tomorrow.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“They were very dark times for me, but my doctor was a kind woman and she urged me to continue to write down my feelings. And writing did help a little.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“We all LOVED the scrummy sweet Fritelle di S. Giuseppe that we finished off supper with. Ingredients: 2 glasses of water; 2 dessert spoons of very good olive oil; 3 dessert spoons of sugar; 250 grams of wheat flour; 2 whole eggs; 1 sachet of vanilla sugar (1 gram); a pinch of salt; ½ teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda, the grated zest of one lemon. In a pan, heat up water, sugar, salt, grated lemon and the oil. When it is boiling, remove from the heat and add all the flour immediately and all in one go. Stir very well and until well mixed (this will take about 10 minutes). Leave the mix to cool down and then add both eggs one at a time. Mix well. ONLY AT THIS STAGE, add the bicarbonate of soda and vanilla and mix again for another 2 or 3 minutes. Pour plenty of oil into a frying pan and heat to boiling point and throw in the mix little by little (about the size of a large walnut). Fry – if the mixture has been properly prepared, it will swell in size immediately and turn it with a fork so it cooks evenly. Remove from the heat and toss it in sugar immediately and then put on a cloth (to absorb extra fat) and eat when still warm and never cold!”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory: Italian journeys

“them”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“The journey into memory. May the living learn from the fate of those who died.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“I wondered how it was possible we could talk about so many subjects – plants, books, livestock and of course little Dario – but we couldn’t talk about us. In my heart there was a storm that needed to break and my heart hurt like thorns on the wild rosa canina growing in the hedgerows.”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory: Italian journeys

“were”
― Angela Petch, The Girl Who Escaped

“She thinks about the passage of time, and how short a lifetime is in the scheme of things.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“Our people really suffered. I know the war is long over, but we should never forget.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“If I was honest, the work of a cobbler was purgatory to me. I preferred to be out on the hillside, watching over sheep in the fresh air. Most of Nonno’s customers were old shepherds and their feet smelt like ripe cheese. Their work made them walk for kilometres and they seldom had a chance to wash. More often than not, the shepherds’ shoes and feet would be caked in manure and even though Nonno had taught me to wash their footwear three or four times in cold water before working on it, the strong odours still clung. It was a readymade business for me to take on, but I was reluctant.”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory

“When newspapers like Il Lambello told their readers to hate Jews and suggested Jews should all wear brightly coloured bracelets to warn against infection, when they printed lies about how Jews were profiting from the war and described them as rabid dogs, then it was hard for the credulous to distinguish the truth from lies.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan House

“I hurried indoors to check on my grandparents. They were clinging together in fear, Nonna wailing and clutching her rosary beads. Nonno thrust a cow bell into my hands, shouting at me to go outside and make as much noise as possible to avert the storm devils. ‘They’ve come to ruin our vegetable plots and maize fields with their evil hailstones,’ he shouted at me. ‘Nonno, no amount of noise will stop what will be,’ I told him for the umpteenth time. ‘It’s only weather; it’s just a storm…’ I tried to calm them down but Nonno and Nonna had been brought up to believe these superstitions. They were too old now to think otherwise. I believed in many of our traditions but I’ve always known that a belief in storm devils was ridiculous. 7”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory

“Quant’è bella giovinezza che si fugge tuttavia! Chi vuol esser lieto, sia: del doman non c’è certezza. Lorenzo de’ Medici (1449–92) How lovely is youth Which is over far too soon! Grab your happiness while you may: There is no certainty in tomorrow. (Author’s translation)”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“Man’s inhumanity to man. I doubt animals are so heartless…”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“Never forget,’ he said, ‘how proud we are that the first Jewish prime minister in Europe was Italian. Luigi Luzzatti’s name should never be forgotten. And remember all the famous Italian Jews who contributed to the importance of this nation: those who introduced printing to Italy and all our famous Jewish authors, poets, scientists and inventors. Each and every day we should strive to be the best people we can be, and remain proud of our heritage.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan House

“This is Giselda’s recipe: Acquacotta from the Maremma Ingredients: Two or three large onions; green vegetables (like cabbage or spinach); tomatoes; one egg per person, toasted bread, some grated pecorino cheese. Put a generous amount of good olive oil from the Maremma into a big pan. Add two or three large onions sliced up and gently fry them. Then turn down the heat and cook until the onions almost go mushy. Add tomatoes cut into pieces and continue to cook, adding herbs such as basil, and some chopped-up celery. When this has all cooked add water (but if there is good broth available, this is better). Boil for fifteen minutes. Fry some toasted slices of bread in a frying pan and sprinkle grated pecorino cheese on top. Add one egg per person (making sure they don’t all join together, so break them into the pan gently). After about one or two minutes, when the eggs begin to set, remove the pan from the fire. Pour the soup into dishes and put the bread and egg on top. We all LOVED the scrummy sweet Fritelle di San Giuseppe that we finished off supper with. Ingredients: Two glasses of water; two dessert spoons of very good olive oil; three dessert spoons of sugar; 250 grams of wheat flour; two whole eggs; one sachet of vanilla sugar (one gram); a pinch of salt; half a teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda, the grated zest of one lemon. In a pan, heat up water, sugar, salt, grated lemon zest and the oil. When it is boiling, remove from the heat and add all the flour immediately and all in one go. Stir very well and until well mixed (this will take about ten minutes). Leave the mix to cool down and then add both eggs one at a time. Mix well. ONLY AT THIS STAGE, add the bicarbonate of soda and vanilla and mix again for another two or three minutes. Pour plenty of oil into a frying pan and heat to boiling point and throw in the mix little by little (about the size of a large walnut). Fry – if the mixture has been properly prepared, it will swell in size immediately – and turn it with a fork so it cooks evenly. Remove from the heat and toss it in sugar immediately and then put on a cloth (to absorb extra fat) and eat when still warm and never cold!”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory

“Next to frayed notices exhorting citizens to eat less sugar and salt (which few had tasted recently anyway), and next to the propaganda images of American soldiers killing little children, there were posters advertising sums of lire for the capture of Jews. There was money to be earned for handing them over to the authorities so that they could be deported, imprisoned or worse. Natalia ripped down a cartoon of a Jewish man, his tongue being cut off with a pair of scissors. As she tore it into shreds and scattered the pieces, she frightened herself with the vehemence of her anger, for she felt like cutting off the tongue of the designer of this vile propaganda. Pulling stumps of chalk from their pockets, the two girls wrote in bold letters on the brick walls. EVVIVA LA CLN – Long live the committee of national liberation”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan House

“At home, Mamma always cut the bread in the same way for every meal. She cradled the big, round pagnotta in her left arm next to her heart, while with her right hand she held the knife and cut towards her body. ‘I won’t harm myself,’ she would say to Davide and me when we warned her to be careful. ‘This bread is a gift from God, precious. The good Lord won’t let me come to harm.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“I lay my body down to sleep, I pray to God my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take.”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory: Italian journeys

“La scuola non da pane, they used to say to me. School doesn’t give you bread. ‘You’re so lucky, Giuseppe,’ I sighed. ‘Seize every opportunity to learn. And use this…’ I said, tapping my forehead. ‘I’ve been taught to read and write but I use my brain too, to think in my own way.”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory

“To say that God exists may be a lie, but to say that He does not exist may be an even bigger lie.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“war creates beasts of men and there are too many other accounts of cruelty to fathom”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“Free-range eggs made into a huge frittata containing zucchini flowers and red Tropea onions, sprinkled with shavings of parmigiano, browned under the grill until bubbling and golden; stuffed tomatoes and aubergines roasted in the oven and portions of rabbit and chicken seasoned with garlic and rosemary with tiny crisp potatoes. They finish off with bowls of ricotta topped with the first wild strawberries, picked from the slopes above the agriturismo.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“I lifted the lid of the trunk that smelled of lavender, where poor Mamma over time had added item upon item to my wedding dowry.  I hunted beneath linen sheets which had been waiting to be embroidered with nuptial initials and pillowcases, and towels and pot holders all edged with fine crochet,”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory: Italian journeys

“the grass is not always greener.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“But a cobweb is a thing of beauty to me. One of the joys in my life is to go for a walk after it’s rained and the sun comes out. Spiders’ webs are like diamond catchers – with raindrops glistening like tiny precious stones inside the most complex patterns. Spiders are so clever, don’t you agree?”
― Angela Petch, A Tuscan Memory: Italian journeys

“Il viaggio della memoria. Imparino i vivi dal destino dei morti.’ She translates slowly: ‘The journey into memory. May the living learn from the fate of those who died.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“They say everybody has a book inside them but what you’ll read isn’t fiction, it was the truth. And I believe our story deserves to be told. The war still casts its long shadow over our lives even though more than fifty years have gone by.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret

“Dadda wasn’t always such a crosspatch. But the war changed him, you see. Horrible things happen in wars. It was difficult for everybody, but the young soldiers saw cruel things that people do in times of war. We must make allowances for his tempers.”
― Angela Petch, The Tuscan Secret