New Foods, New Blooms, and Pi Day
In between the bigger stuff, like our son Benson coming to visit for 2 weeks and then driving all over Europe together, there have been many pleasant days of just normal and slow "doings." This post will showcase those smaller moments that make life more stable, grounded, and fulfilling in other ways.
At the beginning of February, I took the sister missionaries out for brunch again, this time in honor of Sister Quilter whose birthday we were celebrating.
Sister Perry, Sister Quilter, and Me . . .
We went to the beloved restaurant here in town called Brunch Republic, ordering smoothies and a great assortment of brunchy platters . . .
Mine was called the "Insane French" and consisted of French toast stacked like a sandwich, fontina cheese, ham, bacon, bechamel sauce, and a fried egg on top.
Sister Quilter ordered the "Sweet and Salty" French toast, with berries and bacon, along with some popcorn chicken and fries on the side.
Sister Perry ordered the "All American" with fried chicken and bacon on top of stacked pancakes, with maple syrup on the side.
I gave them each a small gift of one of the stuffed fabric hearts that I had made recently, since this was shortly before Valentine's Day. They were so gracious and appreciative of the small gesture. My favorite part of the time we spent together was how we talked about motherhood for most of the conversation. They are both looking forward to being a mother someday, more than anything else. We talked about funny and interesting situations from their growing up years with older and younger siblings, and they wanted to know some of my best advice in raising children, since I am on the other side of that era of my life. It was so precious to be in a little restaurant in Italy, talking with two young ladies (one from North Wales, the other from Utah) about the value, hard work, and importance of being a mother.
I watched the ENTIRE Opening Ceremony of the Olympics, even after Scott went to bed. It was so entertaining and moving, and I felt like they did a phenomenal job weaving stories and ideals together with music, dance, and art. And the fireworks show at the end was just the cherry on top.
I made a yummy cauliflower soup, with cheese and bacon bits layered on top . . .
Recipe can be found here:
Bruno came upstairs with the fixer guy and hung out with me. He told me that he had tried to turn on some hot water two nights before, but no hot water came out of the tap. I guess it had been a while since a cleaning had been scheduled, and he didn't want the same thing to happen to us. We were really grateful that he thought to include us.
He told me that he "had to" have a sleepover at his girlfriend Bruna's house, ha ha. I teased him about it, using simple English phrases so he would understand. One of the things I said was, "OoOOoh. How romantic!" He had to think for a minute about the word romantic, and then it clicked that it was the same as "romantico" in Italian. Suddenly he burst out laughing and laughing. He thought that was so hilarious! What a cutie patootie.
He is always so well-dressed, no matter the day and no matter what is on the docket.
But then, in a matter of just 40 minutes or so, the filthy job was done and our water heater is now all set for another several months.
Another meal I made was this ginormous meatloaf. In Italy, 100% beef is super expensive, so I tend to use a combination of ground beef and pork, called "Mista" (or "mixed"). The reason why I made such a large amount was so that Scott would have some leftovers for when Benson and I were off gallavanting up to Germany and back. I tucked several slices into the freezer, along with some of the pulled pork that I made for the night Benson arrived.
I hopped online to learn why beef is so expensive in Italy, and here is what I learned.
In January 2026, the price of raw cubed beef in was approximately $25.15 per kilogram, significantly higher than the global average of $17.95. Here are some reasons why:
- High Import Dependency: Italy is 60% dependent on foreign countries for its beef needs.
- Surging Production Costs: Italian breeders face high operational expenses. For example, Italy imports 47% of its corn for animal feed, and record-high corn prices (reaching 400 euros per ton) directly inflate the cost of raising cattle.
- Declining Livestock Numbers: There has been a continuous decline in livestock across the EU due to animal diseases (like bluetongue), regulatory pressures from the European Green Deal, and low profit margins for farmers.
- Premium Quality Demand: Italian consumers increasingly prefer high-quality, heritage breeds like Chianina or Piedmontese over cheaper alternatives. These breeds are raised with strict regulations on pharmaceuticals and open grazing, which adds to the retail price.
- Broader Economic Inflation: Overall food prices in Italy have risen by about 25% since 2021. Energy and transport costs also contribute to the final price tag at the supermarket.
100% or higher self-sufficiency rate = The country produces as much or more than it consumes. They typically export some of their excess beef to other countries.
Lower than 100% self-sufficiency rate = The country produces less than its population consumes. They have to rely on importing beef from elsewhere in order to meet the demands.
Here are a few rankings just to give you an idea:
- Ireland: 549% self-sufficiency rate
- France: 139% self-sufficiency rate
- Spain: 115% self-sufficiency rate
- Germany: 105% self-sufficiency rate
- Italy: 40% self-sufficiency rate
The EU is mainly a net exporter (overall). They trade internally (within the EU) which keeps the costs down.
Here's where it gets interesting . . . just stay with me for one more minute . . .
Americans consume 60-67 pounds of beef per capita annually.
EU consumption is considerably lower, at roughly 23 pounds per capita annually.
Thus, the EU is able to meet their demands for beef - more so than the U.S is able to do, simply because Americans REALLY love their juicy steaks, hamburgers, and carne asada.
Isn't that fascinating?? Hello?? Are you even there . . . ?
Scott and I are doing our best to find meals that offer a good amount of protein, but also incorporate some vegetables, too. Protein does you no good if you can't poop. Sorry . . . but it's true.
This recipe is a new favorite: Frittata with Asparagus, Leek, and Ricotta
As you can see, there's a hefty amount of leeks in the skillet below . . . but wow, they are so flavorful and lovely!
This meal was hearty, healthy, and super delicious. I can't wait to make it again soon!
The sun has been interestingly vibrant on our pre-dinner walks lately . . . it might be a little hard to see in the photo below, but the sun was a bright fiery reddish orange for several nights in a row.
Whenever we walk towards the Tabaccheria to pick up an Amazon package, we often see a very large Nutria somewhere in the ditchbank along the way. He is basically like an oversized rat, if you ask Scott. They have giant orange teeth, which are creepy and intimidating, so we always try to keep our distance.
Video of the curious and weird Nutria: (14 seconds)
Their teeth are orange because their enamel contains a high level of iron, which provides a protective, hardened coating for intense gnawing. Ewwww . . . gross.
On our early March adventure with the Tuesdays in Italy group, we visited 3 separate thrift stores, or Insieme (een-see-EH-may) to see what we could find. Each of us came with a short mental list of things we were hoping to find.
In my loot, I got the best new soup pot! It is tall and narrow, rather than short and stout like most soup pots are built. The tall & slim model lets me use other burners on my stove simultaneously, instead of only being able to use the big center burner and nothing else, ha ha. The pot has a thick and sturdy bottom, so it should last for many years to come. And it was only 22 euros!
I also found a beautiful butter dish that actually fits the wide and squatty squares of butter that are sold in the grocery stores here. I've been wanting a lightweight jean jacket for a long time, and this one was just 20 euros. And when I saw the tiniest Nativity set ever - tucked inside a heart-shaped velvet box, I NEEDED it. It was just a few euros.
While I made dinner one night, I had a long visit with my daughter, Amber, who has been under a lot of stress lately. We didn't really know it at the time, but with how tired she was feeling during our video call, it ended up being a whopper of a sickness that lasted several days. She soon had body aches, a sore throat, and all the crud. She slept more than she was awake for the next 3 days, poor thing. But she's all better now, thank goodness.
We've been worried about our Moroccan son, Abdel, for the past few weeks, too. He is currently living and working for the Prince in Doha, Qatar and lives somewhat close to the U.S. military base there (Al-Udeid), which has been the unfair recipient of a constant barrage of missiles from Iran. He has sent me videos that show missiles flying overhead, and then there were the inevitable explosions up in the sky of those same missiles, as the Qatari armed forces expertly intercepted each one before they had a chance to hit the ground.
One of the missiles was missed by the Qatari army and hit the ground on or near the base, which is very close to where Abdel works. He messaged me, saying: "They struck a little while ago while we were praying. The strikes were strong and close to where we work. It was like an earthquake, and the whole place was shaking. There were approximately four or five strikes. We were praying and it didn't frighten us because our faith was strong, and faith plays an important role in strength. Especially in situations like these, or even natural disasters that come suddenly or by chance and make people afraid. In this case, faith plays a crucial role."
I asked him how his mother is doing with all of this. He responded with, "My mother (Majida) was also worried about me and what was happening here. She calls me every day and sends me voice messages. Yesterday I was joking with her and told her I was at the airport. And she said, 'No way, you must be joking!' And then she realized I was joking."
Another day, after I messaged him to see how he was doing, he wrote: "It's 6:34 pm here, and I'm at work in the palace right now. I just had my Ramadan breakfast and prayed Maghrib. Now I'm going to pray Isha, and after that I'll be serving dinner, and then I'll be done."
There was a lot of bombing going on that evening, and he was receiving alerts on his phone to shelter in place inside and to not go outside unless it was an emergency. I was worried about how he would get home from work that night . . .
He explained that he would finish work at 1:00 a.m. and that he would ride in the company shuttle bus to his home further away, but not too far - just 15-20 minutes drive. He added that the place where he sleeps is safe and is located in a new and secluded area called Lusail, which is north of Doha and near the coast.
We pray for him every single day while things are so unstable in the Middle East, and we also pray for peace in the world and that this whole Iran war will be over soon.
I learned from Bruno what our other neighbors' names are: Paolo and Teresa. They are both cute and round, a perfectly adorable older couple whose garden I always admire every time I walk or drive past. They hire someone with a tractor to come and rototill their entire back yard into one giant garden each spring. The tractor guy makes quick work of the job . . .
Video of the rototilling process while Paolo looks on: (15 seconds)
Video #1 early on in the job: (19 seconds)
Video #2 when he's almost finished: (6 seconds)
But the quiet is so nice, compared to the busy street behind us. And the scenery is so beautiful, too, with the curving canals and the large fields that are always expertly groomed or growing something during each season.
There have been regular baptisms of new members into our church over the past year or so, and we welcomed two more into the fold after church two Sundays ago. One of the new members is Iste. Her name sounds like a New Yorker saying the word "Easter". It ends up more like "Eastah". And that is exactly how you pronounce this young lady's name. :) Her family moved to Vicenza from Albania a little over a year ago, and her mother, Florida, was baptized last year. They are both so sweet.
I didn't know the other young man at all, mainly because he has been attending the Italian Ward, so our paths don't ever cross. His name is Macksim and he is one of many recent immigrants from Africa to our area. His friend, also a recent immigrant, was baptized a little while ago and was a big influence on Macksim, who wanted to make some changes in his life. The friend told him that if Macksim would turn to God then his life would be happier. Macksim tried his friend's counsel and soon began meeting with the missionaries. His life did indeed become more joyful as he began to pray, regularly attend church, read his scriptures, and make the decision to be baptized.
Life is never an endlessly smooth sail into the sunset, but when we yoke ourselves to Jesus Christ by inviting Him to help us and to walk with us through whatever we are going through, we can weather any storms that arise.
It was a privilege to be there as these two young people made promises to God on their baptism day.
Iste is on the far left, with Macksim in the dark jacket. The young man in the white shirt baptized him. And Sister Perry, one of the sister missionaries, is next to Macksim.
This was also the last Sunday for Sister Quilter in our ward . . . boo hoo. She was probably my favorite missionary ever in the Vicenza Ward. I wish I could adopt her as my Welsh daughter. She is "cute as a button" with her British accent, and we had some really good times while she served here these past several months. I already miss her so much!!
I picked her and Sister Perry up at 7:30 a.m. a few days later and drove them to the train station. Sister Quilter had a heavy large suitcase, a heavy medium suitcase, and a heavy carry-on sized suitcase, PLUS an over-the-shoulder bag and her purse. We crammed everything into the trunk and into the backseat, including one of the suitcases on top of Sister Perry's lap, and then we crawled along through all the early morning traffic to get to the train station.
It was taking a bit longer than we anticipated, and we were getting worried that she might not make her 8:04 train. Thankfully, the Elders (young male missionaries) were already at the station waiting to help, too. Sister Perry sent them a message to let them know our approximate ETA and what make & color of car we were driving, and then as soon as they saw us drive into the parking lot they came RUNNING over to assist. With Herculean effort, they hoisted all the luggage out in two seconds, and then - after one last big hug for Sister Quilter - they all ran into the station to get her to the right platform with just a couple of minutes to spare.
I prayed mightily that not only would she have all the strength she needed to heft her luggage on and off the trains, but that they would somehow stack together and stay put as she made her way to the next platform. I also prayed that someone would offer to help her when she needed it most.
I am happy to report that she made it! She is able to use Facebook Messenger (for texting only), and it was SUCH a relief when she told me that she made it there alright. She was able to meet up with her new missionary companion at one of the transfers, and then somehow - miraculously - they were able to get ALL of their now combined luggage onto their final train and then later onto a bus to get to their tiny assigned town west of Milan. She and her new companion are opening up a new area for missionary work, so that's exciting! Missionaries who get to open up a new area are usually the finest missionaries for the job. They are reliable and diligent, they are in tune with the Spirit, and they have dynamic and charismatic personalities. These are all qualities that Sister Quilter has, and many more.
I may have mentioned this in a recent blog post, but Sister Quilter has invited me to come stay with her family in North Wales after her mission is completed. We will do some family history together and see some of their favorite places around her hometown. I'm so excited!!
Our magnolia buds started cautiously opening up . . .
I tried a new recipe - and it was a WINNER!! Pizza in the cast iron skillet.
It helps if your dough is the same circumference as your skillet (mine is a 12-inch cast iron). It is also key to make sure the dough isn't too thick. Thin is best. I took my favorite pizza dough recipe (see below) and then split it in half. I think it would have been better to split it into thirds. I had to roll the edges underneath for it all to fit, and thankfully the dough still cooked appropriately.
Once the underside is cooked, then you flip it and load all of your toppings on. Put a lid on top and then wait for the cheese to get all melty. And then it's done! *Note: watch the heat. The recipe says to cook the dough on high heat, but I think it depends on if you have a gas burner or not. We have gas here in Italy, so it cooks a little hotter and faster than an electric burner would. I would say medium to medium-high heat is PLENTY, especially in a cast iron pan.
Active time for cooking (once the dough hit the pan) was less than 10 minutes total. The prep took a little more time, of course. I had to make the dough, chop up and prepare the toppings, and I chose to make a pizza sauce from scratch (because it just tastes better).
I would 100% make this again.
My favorite pizza dough recipe: (I use the bottom recipe that's shown on this link)
And here is the recipe for making your pizza in a cast iron skillet:
Aaaaand the magnolia tree blooms have officially burst open . . .
There is a tiny little family-owned garden center just around the corner from our house. They have several colorful options that I will be going back to get, and the prices were pretty low, too.
Cherry blossoms are beginning to open around Vicenza, too.
Video of Paolo here: (37 seconds) *I wanted to share this with my sister, Charmaine, who loves to garden. https://photos.app.goo.gl/cuiVU9YUZJe4MYgx8
Our General Relief Society President, Camille Johnson, share a profound thought during this month's special women's broadcast. It was posted to Instagram soon after . . .
I visited the garden center "Viridea" on the opposite side of town to pick up a few garden items. I really want to have something to grow, something to nurture, and something to harvest this year. Their massive store is so cute and they give you 10% off if you show your military ID card at the checkout. So that's a nice bonus.
I ended up just getting a few items this time, for two reasons. 1) I didn't bring my coin purse and you need a one euro coin to unlock the large grocery carts. You get the coin back when you return it and lock it back up with the others. Thus, I was forced to use the small pull-along basket, which didn't hold very much. 2) I was wearing the outfit in the photo below . . . including a WHITE sweatshirt. This would not bode well for carrying large bags of dirt when I didn't have a cart.
What I did bring home was an orange cherry tomato plant, a 6-pack of green onions, and a basil plant. I also grabbed a few hanging planter boxes that fit over the balcony railing.
We sat on the bench for a little while to listen to the sounds of the gurgling water . . .
Video here: (19 seconds)
And there is one of those "Little Free Library" stands next to the bench. Scott found a variety of both Italian and English books inside. The concept is - take one if you'd like, and then add one if you can.
L to R: Scott, Elder Thacker, Jace Wood, Elder Dondanneau (from France), Sister Tenney, and Sister Perry (both from Utah). And me.
There was another young man who was supposed to come, but things went horribly awry for him and he wasn't able to make it. His name is Upkar, but he goes by "Harry". He is from India originally, but lived in Fresno, CA for a while, too. He recently joined the US military and just arrived in Vicenza about a month ago.
Sister Quilter had messaged me early on a Sunday morning a few weeks ago to ask if we could pick him up and bring him to church FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. Of course we said yes, and we were able to scoop him up from Del Din where he lives and works. He is the sweetest young man - I think he's only like 20 years old or something like that. He has a thick Indian accent and wears a black turban on his head, something that only recently was approved by the US military.
He is so joyful and smiles easily. He would listen to me sing the first verse of each hymn at church and then he would join in on the next verses. It was a Fast and Testimony meeting on the first Sunday of March, so I explained to him ahead of time what that meant and what he could expect. As each person would share something meaningful about their testimony of Jesus Christ and the restored gospel, and as they would end with "in the name of Jesus Christ, amen", Harry would add in his "amen" as well. :)
He told me that he was raised in the Sikh religion, which believes in one God. They emphasize equality, selfless service, and truthful living. I don't know a whole lot about it, to be honest. But I will likely learn a little more as we continue building our friendship with Harry.
As for the dinner last Saturday night . . . we were supposed to pick Harry up from Del Din at the same time as we picked up Jace. Harry had recently bought a car, but I suggested that we pick him up since we were already coming to Del Din. Close to the time that we were supposed to pick them both up, I could not get ahold of Harry. My messages and calls weren't going through on WhatsApp.
Scott was already having his own issues to get to Del Din (more on that in a minute). We ended up just picking up Jace and bringing him over to our house for dinner with all the missionaries. In the middle of dinner, I finally heard from Harry. He was using a borrowed phone to message me.
It turned out that he had been over in Padova to participate in a pickleball tournament, and at some point he broke his phone. The screen was broken and he couldn't use it at all, and then the battery died, too. In order to get himself home, he had to stop and ask people for directions several times because he kept getting lost. At one point, once he was somewhere inside Vicenza, someone offered to lead him to Del Din by driving in front of him the rest of the way.
He finally made it home, but he was completely spent mentally. I asked if he would like us to send a plate of food over once we finished eating, and he perked right up and accepted the offer. I hope he will want to come to church again soon, or at the very least, come to dinner and hang out with us again. I really like him a lot. He is just such a happy person and he exudes kindness and respect.
So, here's the last story to tell. We live less than 5 minutes from Del Din. Even with some construction on the way, which limits traffic to one lane, it still isn't far and shouldn't take very long at all. We had received a notice that there was a scheduled protest outside the long lane that leads to the security gate of Del Din, and we were advised to avoid the area during the hours of the protest. Well, that was also right during our dinner time of 5:30.
Scott could not access Del Din from our street, and he had to try to figure something else out while also driving. It took him around 40 minutes just to get to where Jace was waiting. And then they had to go WAY around in another direction to get back to our neighborhood, which took another 20-25 minutes. So all in all, it took over an hour of driving to pick Jace up for dinner, when it should have taken less than 10 minutes.
We aren't sure how many people showed up for the protest, because by the time Scott got to this roundabout (which is at the end of the lane leading to Del Din), the protest was over and the numbers were only minimal at that time. But they left behind a large painted mural on the fence.
It says, "Vicenza Ripudia La Guerra." The translation means something like, "Vicenza rejects/repudiates/denounces War."
Part of why traffic could not get through this intersection is because, as part of their registered protest, the group had received permission to paint this sign on the fence along with some large words on the ground, too. I'm not sure how long the sign will remain visible. I feel bad that all of the military personnel who go in and out of Del Din every single day will have to see this repeatedly.
The American soldiers and contractors who work here are not in charge of any war. They are merely at the bidding of our governing leaders. We don't make any decisions of consequence. So to stage a protest outside of a military base seems a little pointless to me. We don't have any control.
As a whole, the people of Vicenza are very kind and tolerant and welcoming to all of the Americans that live in the area. I think it's just a small percentage of people who oppose the recent war and don't like the U.S., and they really wanted us to know this.
P.S. I took the photo after taking Jace and another soldier (Jack) home after church last Sunday.
Jack reached out to us for a ride and what a privilege it was to bring him. He told me that he hasn't been to church at all in 7 months and he figured it was about time he did so. I tried to make him feel very welcome, and I introduced him to a few key people that day, including the bishop. We hope he felt the love of the Savior that day and that he will want to keep coming. We love these single soldiers very much.
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