Italian bakery trip 3

When I finally found the Italian bakery in my little town... I discovered that the only day that I could shop there would be on a Saturday morning.   Apparently, they close around 11am so you have to be there early before they run out of fresh baked bread.

Blood orange juice from the local Italian grocery store!

So, I decided to go by yesterday, about 8:30am to see what they had for sale, and it seems that they bake a different variety of things each time?  I only recognized a couple of items that were the same as my first visit.  Here is a photo showing the breads that I bought on my first trip to the bakery.  http://iwouldratherbeknitting.blogspot.it/2013/01/italian-bakery-in-my-little-town-has.html

Look!  Homemade hamburger buns!  I'm going to have to put some of this bread in the freezer!  I got so excited with the bread choices and I couldn't decide.  However, I was disappointed that they didn't have the bread made with the fresh olives this time.

I made breakfast.  I know that the bread isn't your 'typical' breakfast bread... since, it's not toast or a biscuit.  But hey it was HOME-MADE FRESH BREAD FROM THE LOCAL BAKERY!!  How could I resist???    The juice in the cup?  Blood orange juice from the local Italian grocery store.   So good.  Of course, blood oranges are one of my favorite fruits.
 

I remembered a funny little memory attached to blood oranges.   A long time ago, in the late 1990's I was working in Italy for my first time.   I had injured my right hand in an accident when resulted in some serious injuries of severed nerves and tendons.   Of course, I couldn't use this hand at all for  more than a year.   For me personally, that meant:  not being able to write, use knives, peel any fruits or vegetables, or eat with that hand... it was a painful, limiting, injury that was long term.   I had to learn to only use one hand-- my 'not very skilled' left hand.

Well, I heard from a friend, that I'd known at another military location overseas, that he was coming TDY to Italy for a few weeks.   So, since my favorite Italian fruit was in season,  I bought some Blood Oranges from the market and I was going to have him peel me some while he was there.   He peeled the first one for me and then refused to peel anymore... because the juice is just like blood when it oozes out.   The wimp.  He was an Air Force jet pilot and a Lt. Colonel at the time and had had lots of survival training- having to eat bugs and what ever could be found... Yet, he was freaked out by peeling blood oranges and getting the red juice on his hands.   Sigh