Just to prove I wasn't kidding about Italy, I thought it worth sharing some of the joys of my trip. I left Boston on October 1 and landed in Florence on the 2nd. All together there would be 10 women sharing a villa in Monte San Savino perfectly located about an hour from Florence and 30 minutes from Cortona and Siena. The villa had been in the family since the Middle Ages. Rolling farm land littered with olive trees, grapes, goats, pigs, chestnut tree, and a gorgeous built-in swimming pool. Out side the building was a niche in the bricks with a statue of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. On the other side of the house was a built in pizza oven and wood burning stove. It was a beautiful place to sleep and a beautiful place to wake up.
The first night we spent in San Gimignano in a lovely hotel overlooking the piazza. Our first meal was our first taste of what Italian food is all about--the freshest ingredients imaginable. Everything prepared simply and perfectly. The restaurant was called
La Mangiatoia and is highly recommended. Carolyn was adventurous and ordered boar ragout. It was delicious. The Chianti region of Italy is not only known for its wine but for its beef. I ordered a filet and salad. We quickly decided that we needed to take photos of all of our meals.
Day two and we drove the Chianti Road to Monte San Savino. One wonders how something could be bucolic and death-defying at the same time. Very winding road driven at high speeds. Stopped and ate at a lovely restaurant called, I think,
La Cantoniera, where the waiter dazzled us with his sommelier's techniques. Then on to our new home away from home where we met Claudia who spoke english, and mother Letizia who spoke none. They brought us homemade red and white wines, homemade brandy, an apple cake and biscotti. I think in retrospe
ct the brandy was really Vin Santo, a sweet wine with a high alcohol content that you place in a small cordial glass and dip your biscotti into. It is a lovely after dinner ritual.
Day three: we travel to Arezzo to their monthly flea market. We parked and walked into the entrance to the piazza. It didn't seem to be very big, perhaps 25 vendors. What we didn't realize was that the market wrapped its way all around the town. Hundreds of vendors. Hours of shopping. I purchased 2 pieces of art that reminded me of my sister. I saw an old Santos which I really wanted and was reasonably priced, but I couldn't imagine how I would get it home. Long, wonderfully tiring day.
Day four: Cortona. I fell deeply in love with Cortona. All of the towns we visited were walled towns. Very very old. Very very clean. Pristine. I think the repairs must be constant because of the age of the buildin
gs and cobblestone streets. Cortona has one of the oldest street in Italy. I know why Frances Mayes fell in love with Cortona, but I'm not sure I can explain it. There is so much charm there. And the people are warm and friendly and the food is outstanding. The little shops are packed with wonderful things like handmade books and beautiful Italian soaps. Cortona is also home to the Church of Saint Francis. Therein resides his tunic, pillow and journal all under glass. (Hard to see but to the left.) It is the most beautiful church I have ever entered and if I lived in Cortona I would go to mass everyday. At the time we were there you could hear the monks singing chants in an adjacent room. So beautiful. My sister loved St. Francis. We used to sing his prayer in harmony as we washed dishes when we were growing up. I lit a candle for her. You feel very close to God in the Church of St. Francis.
I discovered quickly that I wanted to continue to pare down the ingredients in dishes and order the most simple food I could, just to see if I could determine why is was so good. In Cortona at Fla Lune (this is not the name of the restaurant--I will do research!--recommended by a local proprietor) I ordered pasta with tomatoes, basil and garlic. When the waitress brought it, I told her she had made a mistake, that it wasn't what I ordered. She said, si si, the tomatoes are green. Indeed, they were. Roasted green tomatoes, basil and garlic. It was divine. It was so very very very good. I would even become a waitress to live in Cortona. I immediately wanted to return.
Day five: Umbria. Perugia to be precise. Our mission: to take a cooking class. We had directions. It was absolutely terrifying. Two way streets meant for one car. Dirt roads leading to cliffs. It was hair raising. Of course, when we fortunately arrived at our destination the road spilled into this idyllic farm. I didn't think I was going to learn a lot--how snobbish is that? I really wanted to make pasta whic
h I knew was going to happen. But I did learn a lot. I learned Americans use too much garlic. (still not buying it) I learned that you never cook basil; it will poison you. (I think that was a hyperbolic statement). I learned it is about the ingredients (see top photo--olive oil made by our host, herbs and tomatoes grown on the property). We learned to make pasta frolla, a crust for the prune crostata that we made (see Loretta really making the pasta frolla); we learned how to make a vegetable torta with tallegio cheese which I thank Stephanie for turning me onto. We learned to make tagliatelle, which is easier and harder than you might think. She kept telling me to "put some energy into it." Apparently my arms weren't strong enough for this task. But we did succeed in making it. I learned that when you cook fresh pasta, you bring the water to a boil, drop the pasta in loosely, and when the water comes to a boil again, the pasta is cooked. VERY HELPFUL INFO. We made chicken rolletini with fresh herbs and parmesan. To be honest, I like mine better--my bastardized Julia Child recipe. And we learned to make homemade tomato sauce. That was interesting. She boiled tomatoes. Ran them through a food mill. Put olive oil in a pan, the tomatoes and one glove of garlic, not sliced. It was light and clean and delicious. It didn't look as though it would cover the pasta, but it did, lightly and flavorfully.
After "cooking" (Stephanie really did the lion's share of that), we repaired to the garden where Raquela had set up a picnic table. Again, homemade wines which we handily finished off. The meal was spectacular. A bit too spectacular and comforting for Barbara who fell asleep in a hammock. What a day. Que bella.
That night I took my first jaunt into the walled town of Monte San Savino. A cute quiet little burg where I had my first, and sadly last, gelato. Why didn't I have them every day? This one was chocolate with whole filberts. It was called a Baci gelato and yes it was. I tried to tip the server but she refused.
Day five: Pienza and Montepulciano. I never heard of Pienza. Why? It's a wonderful town and I loved it nearly as much as Cortona, but not as much. I don't remember much about Pienza except for the feeling of comfort. A small, walled town, clean, lovely little
shops, a beautiful piazza and church which Carolyn took a million photos in (with my camera), and finally lunch on a terrace overlooking a wonderful Tuscan panorama. The waiters were young, good looking and attentive snobs. White umbrellas were open over our heads. The food and wine were superb. I ordered ravioli with a special Italian cheese I should have written down. The cream sauce was scented with thyme and on top were lovely frizzles of deep fried carrots. It was an absolutely perfect place to visit. After lunch, I made it back to a great leather store before it closed for
pausa. I purchased a beautiful pair of black boots, sort of riding boot style, which I find I have no cause to wear now. But I can just paw the soft leather and enjoy them.
Montepulciano is what Montepulciano is best known for...wine. We parked in front of a store that sold...wine. There were kegs in the store that were 15 feet high and 8 feet across. This was located before the walls of the town. Right before entering the town, we met two handsome outreach workers collecting money for an organization that does HIV prevention work with injection drug users. You can take a vacation, but work will find you anyway. Inside the walls, store after store filled with the red wine the area is famous for. Carolyn and I took off on our own wandering the steep streets, past churches and piazzas. I hold no passion for Montepulciano, though I did discover one of the best bell towers that I encountered while in Italy. It has a figure of, I think, some iconic clown on it. I need to research that. After the day's trek, we returned home to the feast the family had spent the day preparing for us. It was my least favorite meal, but their generosity and hospitality were outstanding.
Day six: Much to my joy everyone decides they want to return to Cortona. This gave me more time to spend in the Church of St. Francis, to have another meal, to discover a small shop with handmade books in it and a small cistern filled with golden carp, and to take more photos of clotheslines. Clothesline are all over Italy. Every house has one. The price of electricity is so high in Italy that no one has a dryer. I think they still use phosphates in the detergent because their clothes are so white. As I've been entering photos into this blog, you have no idea how laborious it is. I wanted to include a lot of clotheslines and photos of Cortona, but I don't know that I have it in me. We ate again outside on second floor patio that overlooked the piazza. I think my system had about all it could manage at this point and I just ordered a salad. Carolyn and I had been wandering around by ourselves but while we were waiting for a table, Cherrie, Cynthia, Barbara and Barbara showed up at the same restaurant so we all ate together.
Day seven: Chiusi . I would travel anywhere with Cynthia and Cherrie. Cynthia is the perfect planner of trips and Cherrie is fearless. She keeps everything moving. On this day we go to Chiusi, another town I've never heard of. It is, again, a small spotless small town. It is known for having a large collection of Etruscan artifacts including a museum that contains t
hem. There is a nice park with a bronze statue in memory of resistance fighters. There are lovely views from terraces around the town. Everyone's property is kept to perfection. We ate at a restaurant (Zaire) that had a wine cellar that literally ran under the streets of the town. We were only allowed to see one part of it that contained over 25,000 bottles of wine. Our guide told us that the wine cellar had been there since 500 years before the birth of Christ. On departing she showed us some remnants of a road built by the Romans. There is also a place near the church where part of the sidewalk is glass and below is the Roman road which one can't really imagine...it is all made with small stones built in a swirling mosaic pattern. I would need to do research, but my memory says that this road extended from Rome to this region and beyond. That would be like building a road for hundreds of miles that is not unlike your bathroom floor. I made that up. But I want to know if it's true. Cynthia said that she once read that this town declared war against the Romans. I don't know if they won but they got a road out of it.
Day eight: We sadly leave our beautiful home in Monte San Savino and head to Florence. Ah,
Firenze where women swoon in the Uffizi. Florence is surprisingly small. It is a wonderful town to walk in. Perhaps they consider it a city, but it didn't feel that way to me. Maybe that is because we were staying in the center where all the important sites are located. Carolyn and I checked into our rag tag hotel. Well, it wasn't a hotel. It was someone's apartment that they rented out all the rooms in. It was sufficient and within walking distance to everything we could fit in. The nice man who met us to give us the keys to the outside door, the inside door, the elevator and our room recommended a restaurant not far from the house that a friend of his owned. Carolyn thought we should look around for something else and figured Christian was getting kick backs. I said, he lives in the room next door from us; why would he steer us wrong? So we ate there. OMG, I am so happy that we did. The restaurant was called
Il Tozzo di Panne. I asked how long it had been open. The waiter said over a hundred years. I asked how long the current owner had operated it and he said 3 years. I sadly cannot remember what I ordered. It was a simple pasta in red sauce I think. Carolyn ordered gnocchi with a Gorgonzola cream sauce. All I know is that mine was the best thing I ever tasted and Carolyn loved hers but couldn't finish it. I wanted to order mine all over again.
After lunch we walked to the Galleria Dell'Accademia and stood in line to see Michelangelo's David. I didn't think this would be possible without reservations. It was fortuitous that there was a Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition at the same time. It was a beautiful exhibit hung in a black room with Mapplethorpe work juxtaposed to the Masters. It illustrated what an incredible talent he was. We walked into a room of sculptures and the sense one got was to walk to the left where amazing sculptures filled the room. At one point I said something to Carolyn and she turned around to answer me and said, oh, there he is. There was an unnoticed room (I think intentionally) to the right. Filling the entire visible space was David. It would be amazing solely for its sheer enormity, if it weren't such a magnificent piece of art. Carolyn kept focusing on his right hand. She thought it was too big for his body and I have to say it was a mighty big hand, but everything was big. The most moving part of this was that the curators had placed 4 large Mapplethorpe body photos next to the sculpture. Two in front and two in back. When I walked into the room I thought how stunningly proud he would feel. But had he lived, I don't think this would have happened. Sometimes you get more respect when you are dead. And dead at the age of 43.
You are not allowed to take photos in the Accademia but I was surprised at how many people did despite and audio message stating it was prohibited and guards constantly telling people to not do it. The urge to take photos is overwhelming there. But I did not break any rules. I saw a family standing in front of David, a man with a child on his head and another by his side while his wife shot away completely ignoring the guards.
Outside, we walked t
o the the Duomo or more specifically the Duomo Santa Maria Del Fiore. We just missed going inside because it had closed. I could have attended Mass the next morning, but that was pushing it even though I wanted to see inside badly. But the building's exterior compensated for a lot. I never knew that this building was so intricate. Every square inch is mosaic with niches filled with the most amazing sculptures of saints and bishops and angels. They are in the process of cleaning it and eliminating traffic from around it to prevent soot build up. The church is immense. It is inspiring. I took a million photos because I couldn't imagine that human beings could actually build something so ornate. This photo is of the Campanile designed by Giotta. I think this must be what it's like to see intricate mosques and tile work in Morocco. In the same plaza as the Duomo is the Baptistry of San Giovanni. It's an octagonal building and is now used for the opera.
Aside from eating, the rest of Florence was walking and site seeing. We saw the Uffizi but never got in. We walked across the Ponte Vecchio and saw the Arno, the Pitti Palace and the shops in Oltrarno which were closed for Sunday. The Ponte Vecchio is beautiful from an architectural point to view, but it is lined with stores that sell nothing but gold jewelry. It wasn't the slightest enticing and was a huge contrast to the beauty of Florence.
I loved Florence too. We didn't spend nearly enough time there to see all the beautiful things it has to offer. I discovered that I became a little more adventurous with my Italian while I was in Italy. At least I tried to speak and people were receptive and appreciative of that. (I was not good with understanding numbers). I think it could be an easy language to learn if you had the time and the environment.
What stood out most for me is how much more civil, gracious, and enjoyable life is in Italy than in the US. The priorities seem different. Families still live near each other; the elderly have their adult children to lean on; the food is local and that is why the food is so pure; everyone has health care; art means everything; history means everything. People are so respectful of their environment. It's spectacularly clean. It appears that there is a wonderful quality of life there. At least in Tuscany. I know it's hard to get the garbage picked up in Naples. I know there's government corruption. I know there's racism. But that could be said of our country too. So give me art and the best food on the planet and my family near me. I'm for it.
f October with Pat. We went to attend but also to present a workshop at the US Conference on AIDS. And we fit in as much other stuff as we could before and after.
, crab and mussels. Dinner came with warm wet towels which were definitely put to use. It was a fabulous repast and in front of us were large cargo ships carrying in goods from the Far East.
