This morning after oversleeping slightly (I usually like to stick to a schedule) I got up and walked to the market in the town of Ugento. Every Saturday they host a market a few streets behind the castle where locals go to gather fish, cheese, salumi, produce, and olives for their midday meals. A young gentleman wanted me to try a few different types of taralli, such as saffron and cipollini. I decided on the traditional taralli, which have always been my favorite. Some others who went into town bought dried figs stuffed with almonds and olive bread made in the local region of Salento.

“No Mortadella”

I stood by a bread stand where there was a police officer telling me to have a sandwich with mortadella. I said- "no, proscuitto"- because in the past I have not always been fond of mortadella and that just may be because I have seen the rubbery, processed, bright pink American kind, which is nothing short of a turn off. He said "no, mortadella" and about ten minutes later, the officer approaches my friend and I, giving us half of a mortadella sandwich each. And then he made a gesture about how delicious the sandwich is.