A Peaceful Morning in Tuscany!

     This morning we had a little break so were finally able to settle into our quarters in Tuscany.  Our windows overlook the fabled Chianti hills and we have a little terrace to sit outside.  So we thought we’d have breakfast on the terrace, relax for a minute and enjoy the view.  We hard boiled some brown eggs, then I toasted a piece of ciambellone that Josephine made back in Morolo to go with her homemade cherry jam from their own trees.

View outside our house

We took our plates out onto the terrace, the May sun warming the terracotta tiles.  The vista is panoramic.  If I were a painter like the group that is here this week,  I’d count 3 layers of hills shifting progressively from green to blue.  I often think, “Thank God for the glaciers,” because this landscape owes all of its soft, sensual curves to the Ice Age.  80% of what I’m seeing is forested.  And the strict Tuscan zoning laws will insure it stays that way.  There are diamond shaped patches of vineyards incised into the hillsides, dirt roads – or “white roads”, as they call them – cutting through the greenery and stone farmhouses with red tiled roofs scattered across the landscape.  Linda pointed out that the dark green cypress trees seem to be placed exactly where your eye needs a vertical line after too many horizontal curves.  (The rest of Italy jokes that Tuscans situate their cypress trees like furniture.)  I’m sure this is the same background I’ve seen in countless Renaissance paintings, like Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.

Eggs!

I cracked an egg – the yolks are yellow as saffron – while I heard the chickens cackling somewhere below us.  I could also discern the tinkle of some sheep bells down in the valley, a donkey or two braying and hundreds of birds – including a cuckoo – singing through their work.  Bees zipped by my head, not at all interested in what we were doing there.  With this sublime setting we started planning the day: taking the group into Siena, introducing them to our favorite gelateria on the Campo, showing them where Saint Catherine’s head is on display (yes, her real head!) discussing the menu for dinner.

I could smell the acacia flowers, signature of this season, and the aroma mixed with every bite of my ciambellone.  Ah, Tuscany!  The peace, the tranquility.  No wonder it is on every traveler’s list of places to visit.

Suddenly out of nowhere, a rumble turned into a roar turned into a glass shattering screech.  A pack of 5 fighter jets screamed across the sky over the wide open valley.  Then they banked sharply and blazed back through the air leaving my teeth clenched.  Practice sorties for rookie pilots from the nearby Asciano air force base.  Linda and I sat frozen.  All other sounds stopped in their wake until the echo of the jets faded away.  Then cautiously the sheep and the birds started in again as our hearts started beating again.

I cleared my breakfast dishes and headed to the bedroom where I heard the soft thrum of an engine.  When I opened the door I found the room filled with a squad of bees all smashing into the window panes and madly crisscrossing the ceiling beams.  It was bedlam!  I tried to shoo them out until they darted for my head, but I couldn’t open another window because out on my little balcony there was a cloud of about 400 more bees laying siege, battering the door trying to break in.  So I ran out of the room, slammed the door and yelled for Linda to run for her life.

Ah, the peace and tranquility of spring in Tuscany!

Blogissimo!: Early Figs

Blogissimo!: Early Figs

Early Figs

     Yesterday morning we went on an herb walk with some of our painters interested in the "wild" side of Chianti. We started our exploration at 8 am as the sun was just beginning to gently wipe the dew from the landscape. We hiked from San Fedele up and around an ancient Celtic Circle through vineyards, eyes wide searching for nature's hidden treasures. Along the way we discovered a variety of different mint, wild fennel, wild thyme and spittlebugs.

Wild Thyme

As we came upon a fig tree I remem- bered one day a few years ago in Morolo, just outside of my parents house, my father went up to the fig tree and snapped a green, less than half ripe, fig from the tree. I was shocked as he took a bite from it, as if it were an apple. My lips puckered as he finished it off and I asked him how he could eat a crunchy fig that must have made his teeth feel fuzzy.  He said "when you're hungry it's amazing what you will eat".  He went on to reminisce about growing up during the war and the things they would forage for to keep their, ever present, hunger pangs at bay. He said his mother would cook young green figs with a little olive oil and garlic. He would be so hungry he couldn’t wait until they were ready so he would snatch one from the tree and eat it in anticipation. 

Green Young Figs

I was very curious about what fried green figs would taste like so I asked my mother to cook a few that evening. I was so surprised at how savory they were, more like a vegetable than a fruit. I would never have guessed these were the same figs that in a few weeks would be plump, sweet, juicy and luscious bundles, weighing heavy on the tree.

Ripe Figs

So,  I asked our herb walkers to help me pick the young green figs and promised to serve them a special, old family recipe at dinner.

This evening, alongside the vegetable frittata, I gave everyone a taste of my fathers favorite childhood delicacy, sautéed figs…..I think my grandmother would be very proud.

Vegetable Frittata with a side of Fried Green Figs

Arrival at San Fedele

  Saturday we arrived at San Fedele in Tuscany for the start of our season.  After the kamikaze highway from Rome to Florence it was blissfully peaceful cruising up the cypress-lined driveway to this 12^th century monastery.  The iron gates swept open to us.  The caretakers, Cesare and Enza, were there to greet us as Nicolo, the proprietor, ambled out of his door to give us a big hug.  The greetings were reverent, but stunted because there was a big bus packed with 25 watercolorists kicking up dust on the road right behind us.

It’s like the first day of camp, getting everyone off the bus, sorting luggage, assigning rooms, giving a tour of the facility.  On the terrace overlooking the olive groves we served cold water laced with the acacia essence Linda had steeped back in Morolo.

Sunday – a beautiful sunny day – started with a painting lesson on the terrace and ended with a birthday dinner for our program manager, Michelino.  The whole group arrived at the Corsignano winery nearby just in time for a spectacular sunset view of Siena.  Mario, the proprietor/winemaker, took us on a tour of the vineyard and cellar, then settled us at a long table, under the wisteria, for dinner.  

The Chianti flowed while his wife Elena, delivered courses of panzanella (a Tuscan bread salad w/ tomato, cucumber and red onion), batter dipped vegetables, white bean and rosemary bruschetta (pronounced with a hard “c”, not a shhhh…) and pappardelle with lamb sauce.

When the lights dimmed the molten chocolate cake arrived with candles, followed by & Italian versions of “Happy Birthday” (“Tanti Auguri”).  Michelino, ever the gentleman, turned it around to wish all the mothers a happy Mothers’ Day.

Tanti Auguri!

So early in the week, no one really knew the Il Chiostro staff or their talents, so it was quite a surprise when Michelino got up to sing.  With chocolate still coating his throat he managed a charming rendition of Cole Porter’s “I Get a Kick Out of You” followed by Kern’s romantic ballad “My Ship”.  Everyone was astounded to think that their van driver was also a terrific tenor.

Birthday hats made from paper bags our fried vegetables were served in...artists are so creative!

Then Linda stepped onto the “stage” where she delivered an endearing, a cappella “Mama”, in honor of Mothers day and then Michelino’s favorite “Anima e Coure”.  There is something about songs in Italian – you don’t need to understand the words to feel the heart rending sentiment.  It’s their poetry, the way they sing and the way they live life – full throttle.

As we were leaving I overheard someone say “And I thought we were just coming to take a painting workshop!”

Photos for Day 4 entry...

A picture is worth a thousand words.

Dad and his garden hat

More wine & cookies!

An explanation of the past

A correction of the explanation

A joke

I think this is a swear word!

In one of the photos my Dad is wearing a hat made of newspaper they use to shade their shiny heads from the sun while working in the garden. More domani...

Day 4 - Drop Ins

    Last night in Morolo as we were about to set the table for dinner a car pulled up to the gate and buzzed.  It was Linda’s cousin and their baby paying a visit.  They just dropped in, unannounced.  This is rural Italy.  People just visit one another whenever they please - unannounced.  Michael thought this was completely rude and inconsiderate.  “What if we were in the middle of eating?”  They wouldn’t mind, came the answer.  They would have just sat right down with us! 

Well all this was unacceptable – Inconceivable!  Such bad manners! – until after dinner we decided to go visit Mario, another cousin.  On the way, though, we thought we’d stop and say hello to the neighbors Giuliana and Berto who live 2 doors down.  (Giuliana had given us the chicken from her coop that we ate for dinner so we had to thank her.)  We walked up to the door, Jo cried “Yoo-hoo” and Linda knocked.  They were eating supper.  But the door opened, we were ushered in, and within one minute the plates were cleared and we were sitting at the kitchen table with a basket of homemade wine cookies and a ciombellone under our noses.  Berto popped out the door and came back wagging a green, unlabeled bottle of wine that he poured into a tray of blue water glasses.  And then – another knock at the door and 2 more people dropped in.  More glasses, more wine, conversation, hands flailing, laughter.  Nothing fancy, it all happened around the kitchen table.  We stayed 20 minutes and were off in a flurry.

Next stop Mario’s.  We buzzed at the gate, it opened, we marched into their living room and immediately had gelato, chocolate bars and whiskey to float the ice cream in.  More conversation, laughter, hands flailing.  News, politics, family gossip.  Before we left his wife Paola handed Jo a shopping bag with a load of prepared artichokes and half a rabbit.  Out the door we went with kisses, best wishes and good cheer.

Very merrily we headed home only to find a car in front of our gate.  Graziano, a friend from the next town had dropped in.  He was just leaving a bottle of wine when we pulled up.  Kisses, hugs, come on in for a minute!  So back in the house we visited with Graziano until 11:30 – conversation, laughter, hands, cookies.  And then he left after 15 minutes.  It seems that people in this area drop in for a visit the way we say hello to each other on Facebook.  It’s just a short visit, but in person, with food, wine and always the kiss hello and good-bye.  We’re wondering if we should try to do this back home in New York?  

Day 2

The lag has caught up to us! I did have a chance to make Acacia flowers tisana that I will chill and have ready for our guests when they arrive tomorrow. After traveling for hours the Acacia flower chilled water is a lovely refreshing and healthy drink to wake and sooth the senses.
Speaking of which our senses are weary and ready for sleep.
Ci vediamo domani we will be in Chianti and will have barrels of things to report.
Buona notte,
Linda e Michael