<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Italy on doismiu - dispatches from the infernal archive</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/tags/italy/</link><description>Recent content in Italy on doismiu - dispatches from the infernal archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Wed, 10 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0200</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://doismiu.blog/tags/italy/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Concrete Ghosts of Italy '90</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/posts/the-ghosts-of-italy-90/</link><pubDate>Wed, 10 Jun 2026 00:00:00 +0200</pubDate><guid>https://doismiu.blog/posts/the-ghosts-of-italy-90/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;figure&gt;&lt;img src="https://doismiu.blog/posts/the-ghosts-of-italy-90/italy90_hu_bd005d2386533509.webp" alt="Italy 1990" loading="lazy" decoding="async" data-full="/posts/the-ghosts-of-italy-90/italy90.png" width="1100" height="660"&gt;
&lt;/figure&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;In recent months I&amp;rsquo;ve been to the Luigi Ferraris stadium a few times to watch Genoa play. It sits in Marassi, wedged between the Bisagno riverbed, a main road, a prison and a listed fourteenth-century villa, with four red-brick towers planted at its corners like chess rooks. Those towers are not decoration. They went up between 1987 and 1989, when Vittorio Gregotti rebuilt the ground for the World Cup, and they are the most honest thing in the city about what that summer was. Genoa got a stadium that people still admire. Most of Italy got something else.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Zena.food: I Used Machine Learning to Find Genoa's Hidden Restaurant Gems</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/posts/zena-food-i-audited-genoas-restaurant-algorithm/</link><pubDate>Tue, 12 May 2026 00:00:00 +0200</pubDate><guid>https://doismiu.blog/posts/zena-food-i-audited-genoas-restaurant-algorithm/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;There is an article by Lauren Leek called &lt;a href="https://laurenleek.substack.com/p/how-google-maps-quietly-allocates"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How Google Maps quietly allocates survival across London&amp;rsquo;s restaurants&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I read it eight months after moving to Genoa and could not put it down. The premise is precise and a little uncomfortable: the way Google Maps ranks restaurants has almost nothing to do with food quality. It is about algorithmic prominence, a composite of review count, review velocity, web presence, and interaction signals. Venues that accumulate more reviews rank higher. Higher rank brings more visitors. More visitors bring more reviews. The loop does not care whether the food is good.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Borderless Bites: Is Italian Gastronomy Really All That?</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/posts/borderless-bites-is-italian-gastronomy-really-all-that/</link><pubDate>Sat, 17 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0100</pubDate><guid>https://doismiu.blog/posts/borderless-bites-is-italian-gastronomy-really-all-that/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;A few months ago, if you had asked me to name the best food in the world, I would have said Brazil and Spain without thinking. I was raised Brazilian on Spanish soil, so my palate grew up between the two. Brazil has flavor and comfort; Spain is all about the ingredient, from tapas in Madrid to seafood in Galicia. I thought I had already eaten the best.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Then I moved to Italy, specifically to Genoa, between the Ligurian Sea and the mountains, where the smell of basil and focaccia from the oven seems to fill the city. The question everyone asks: is Italian gastronomy really everything people say?&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>How Pain Created Torino's Identity</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/posts/how-pain-created-torinos-identity/</link><pubDate>Mon, 29 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0100</pubDate><guid>https://doismiu.blog/posts/how-pain-created-torinos-identity/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I need to tell you about a football club that died and refused to stay dead.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Not metaphorically. Literally. On May 4th, 1949, a Fiat G.212 aircraft carrying the entire Torino FC squad crashed into the Basilica of Superga, just outside Turin. Thirty-one people died. The team that had won five consecutive Serie A titles, the backbone of the Italian national team, the greatest club side Europe had ever seen, was obliterated in an instant.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Confeugo: The Vertical Flame of Genoa</title><link>https://doismiu.blog/posts/confeugo-the-vertical-flame-of-genoa/</link><pubDate>Sat, 20 Dec 2025 00:00:00 +0100</pubDate><guid>https://doismiu.blog/posts/confeugo-the-vertical-flame-of-genoa/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;ldquo;Bon sabbo à tutti! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 !&amp;rdquo;&lt;/strong&gt; (Happy Saturday, everyone!)&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I recently moved to Italy, specifically to Liguria, where Genoa sits like a scarred sentinel watching over the Mediterranean. This afternoon, December 20th, I stood in the heart of the city to witness the &lt;strong&gt;Confeugo&lt;/strong&gt;. It is a ceremony of fire, prophecy, and linguistic ghosts, and it forced me to look past the postcard version of Italy to something much more abrasive and real.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>