The Formaggio Affair

I now consider myself an honorary Italian, because today I had a truly Italian experience - I got into it with the grocer.

I love my mozzarella di buffala campana.  There is no cheese like it in the world, and it may be 15% why I decided to relocate to Italy.  This cheese is like heaven.  Those soft white balls floating around the milky white water always put me in a good mood.  I'll save the description of its goodness for a later post devoted to food, but suffice to say it is vying with gelato for my favorite food in Italy. Yeah.

Mozzarella di buffala campana is the one food item I splurge on, and buy the big container for 5 euro.  Like a kid at Christmas I opened my mozzarella yesterday to make un'insalata caprese.  Imagine my disappointment when I take a bite and . . . it's bad.
No, it can't be.  My mozzarella can't be bad!  I don't trust my taste buds and try it again. My gag reflex doesn't stand for mistrust, and I have to spit it out.

Now this creates all sorts of problems.  One, I am without mozzarella di buffala campana.  Two, I I have to deal with this somehow.  The easy thing would be to just go buy another one, but I would never be such a push over at home, so I can't allow it here.  Today I got ready and went back to the grocery store to attempt an exchange. I grabbed another one, took it the the register with my receipt and just asked to exchange it.  The girl working said it was no problem, but she couldn't do it and we had to wait for someone else.  While we are waiting (or maybe we were waiting for him, I don't know)  this old grocer comes over.

I tell him what the problem is and he tells me that since I opened it, he can't sell it anymore.
I respond, "Well you couldn't sell it yesterday either, because it's spoiled."  Oh yes, I got sassy.  That is how 'un discorso' goes over here.  You take up your cause like it's near and dear to your heart, no matter what it is.
           "It is our job to sell the food.  You took it out of the store, and I don't know what you did to it.  When you buy a sandwich, it is yours and you can't return it."
           "No, your job is to sell food that it is possible to eat.  This food is bad, and all I want to do is exchange it for exactly the same thing. This is not a sandwich, this is a container of cheese."
The idea of 'the customer is always right' does not exist here.  Not in restaurants (they don't work for tips), not anywhere.  I thought about how this would absolutely never happen in the US.  He keeps getting more and more animated, so I do too.  Meanwhile the first girl I talked to is rolling her eyes at him, so it gives me more confidence.  I wasn't mean, but I definitely got worked up.  People started to stare at this old man and young girl arguing about cheese.  After I continued to counter everything he said and held my ground, he realized he had lost and followed the formula for an Italian defeat - he pretended he thought we were arguing about something else.
           "Oh! You just want to exchange this one?  I was confused because there were two here."
Despite myself a grin started spreading across my face.  He tried to keep giving some ridiculous explanation, but I just shook is hand and told him to have a nice day.  I won.  I knew it, he knew it, everyone in the store knew it.   The other check out ladies just rolled their eyes at him and I bounced out of there with my mozzarella.

Although it may not seem like much to you, I was so proud that I had my first little argument, won, and only made one error (as far as I know).  I said si e' gustato instead of si e' guastato.  I am so mad I did that!

Funny thing is, I just opened the new mozzarella and it's bad too.  I think it is just too close to the expiration date, but there were only 3 left.  Ah well.  At least I got to argue in Italian.