Aprile in italia

Aprile, apriletto, un dì freddo un dì caldetto” –(April, oh April, one day you’re cold, the next you’re warm.)


The weather has been all over the place lately, exactly like it is supposed to be in April! Sunny and almost hot and then windy, rainy and cold.  Infatti, Aprile is quite notorious and has a pretty wild reputation in Italy. There are an astounding number of old Italian proverbs devoted to this wily month:

Aprile e Maggio son la chiave di tutto l’anno (April and May are the keys to the whole year).


And then: Aprile fa il fiore e maggio si ha il colore (April brings the flower and May the color.)


One I really like is: Aprile carciofaio, maggio ciliegiaio. (In April, artichoke. In May, cherries.)


April rains are their own category of proverbs. To wit:

*Aprile piovoso, maggio ventoso, anno fruttuoso” — Rainy April, windy May, fruitful year.


*L’acqua d’aprile, il bue ingrassa, il porco uccide, e la pecora se ne ride” — The water of April, the ox grows fat, the pig dies, and the sheep laughs.



*Quando tuona d’Aprile buon segno per il barile’ — When it thunders in April, it’s a good sign for the barrel (of wine).


And the weather can be a guide to men as well:  “Gli uomini sono aprile quando fanno all’amore, dicembre quando hanno sposato.“– (Men are like April when they flirt/court; like December once they are married.)

Hang on, May is almost here!

Wish me luck!

update: 3 hours later: this recipe rocks!  I used lemons instead of oranges and plain yogurt instead of sour cream (I’m in Italy, after all!); the olive oil is a great addition to cake and so much healthier than butter.  At least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it!

I’m cake baking again in my new Italian kitchen.  A new oven, a new attempt!



The picture is from the NYT.  I’ll let you know how mine turns out!




Sunny side up!


I’m sure Shakespeare or somebody must have written about the joyful face of the humble primrose.  If not, he/she should have!

P.S. a few minutes of Google and this I found (I’m feeling poetic now):

Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose,
A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring!
The stooping boughs above me,
The wandering bee to love me,
The fern and moss to creep across,
And the elm-tree for our king!

William Allingham

Wishing. A Child’s Song.