This is the first picture we have of us packed up on the Vespa since the terrific one taken in Grosetto in 2011 on our way home from Greece. Our reports this year have even more food than usual; don't know what that means!
Around Italy (2016)
On the road again, we decided to try to get all the way to Bruges (our farthest destination) but I was getting too tired to drive further as we approached Ghent. Deb called the tourist office to discover that they had no list of chambres d’hote because it was all online. In a minute we’d selected a promising B&B (80 euros) and called. This will be our third night so we think it’s excellent. Karin and Eddy have clued us in about the local restaurants and how to get around (into Ghent center by tram just 50m from the door). Here’s the tuna tartare Thursday night at Cafe Parti down the street:
And here’s Eddy’s breakfast on Friday morning:
We spend the morning at the Friday food and flea markets in Ghent. Lunch at Pakhuis included asparagus a la Flamande:
Afternoon at the cathedral looking at van Eyck’s altarpiece (part of which was being restored) and then to the art museum where they’d set up a gallery as a restoration studio:
Frites for dinner and early to bed.
We spent most of today in Bruges, the Disneyland of Belgium, with six Memlings at St. Johns Hospital Museum:
And much more Northern Renaissance work at the main museum including several great van Eycks. We then headed to the shore where Karin had told us about a gathering of amateur boat enthusiasts in Ostend (only mildly interesting but a beautiful sunny day). Then north along the sea to the toney Nantucket-like town of de Haan aan Zee in search of a decent place for dinner. When the waiter replied to our request for a recommendation that “the food’s all the same around here” we decided to cut our losses and have some mussels, something I’d been looking forward too. Sadly, I’d come all the way to Belgium for mediocre mussels.
Tomorrow, more Northern Renaissance in Brussels.
B and Deb
We saw some great early Netherlandish paintings but they were lit only by the natural light coming from the dark, overcast, and raining sky. What frustration not to be able to see the details, which is what this style is all about!
A popular local pizza place was recommended by Karin but, when we reported on its mediocrity, she replied “Well, of course it’s not Italian pizza.”
Although we had hoped to stay another night (and see Antwerp as a day-trip), the two rooms had been booked so we packed up and headed off to Antwerp in the very heavy rain. Deb searched the B&B sites and made a spectacular choice not far from the city center (90 euros). (An)Ton and Bei greeted us and showed us to the underground garage. Then we saw our quarters! Bedroom:
and bath:
They recommended a good brasserie just down the street where we had a hearty lunch including this (it’s asparagus season, of course):
Dinner at another nearby place which operates as a restaurant only on Monday nights because everyone has another full-time job. A delicious fixed menu. We finished early and watched “Taxi Driver” from the collection of DVDs in the room. It had just stopped raining!
B and Deb
Our table was by a small window looking out over the park:
We were impressed with everything, however, lunch started with this sesame puff pastry creation:
and continued with an amuse bouche of smoked salmon topped with an egg yolk said to be “smoked with pancetta” (whatever that could mean):
The bread was baked in a cubic pain de mie mold and cut on the diagonal:
Our entrees were an unbelievable wagyu beef carpaccio with truffles:
and a tuna tartare with sesame and beets (the spherical ones are not beets but a pastry flavored with beet):
As you can clearly see, the presentations are over the top with herbs and flowers (I assumed they were all edible; no problems so far).
Our main courses were sea bass with mashed potatoes (we assumed we’d get something like Joel Robuchon’s pomme de terre puree with as much butter as potato but it was nothing close):
and eel (in season just now) with some fascinating rolls of pasta imitating leeks (and of course a little caviar on top):
The cheese course was nothing special:
But the lemon dessert was just the sort of thing we find completely ridiculous (one was plenty for both of us):
A most memorable meal at a reasonable price except for the water at 8.5 euros/750ml.
But wait! We didn’t show you the breakfast at our not-so-humble B&B:
What else besides food, you ask. Well we tried to go to two museums, both of which were supposed to be open: the first was closed for renovations, the second because of a transit workers strike. So, in the end, it was a day for food (although we were prompted by the rain to go into several camping stores where I bought some very nice rain gear including some rain pants with zippers three-quarters of the way up each leg.
Tomorrow, on to The Hague.
B and Deb
and the remarkable arrangements of peonies on the dinner table:
We had a terrific 90 minutes to see the collection (famously world-class) including the Girl with the Pearl Earring. The museum was completely renovated several years ago with an underground reception area (same architect as the Louvre) and new temporary exhibit space. The familiar pictures are still in the original house but now with brand-new damask silk wall coverings behind the paintings. Here’s a detail from the best Rembrandt; it reminded me of a trio of Crucifixion paintings we saw in Munich: tiny detail, something I don’t associate with Rembrandt.
We had a simple dinner at a French restaurant four doors away recommended by Marc; probably our last French onion soup and steak tartare of the summer:
and went straight to bed. Alarm set for 6am for the drive to Schiphol for our 9:35am departure to Florence. Visions of real cappuccino dancing in our heads!
Well, given our splendid luck so far, at some point we had to run into a really bad day. Like today. Our drive to the airport was held up by an accident on the highway but we still arrived at 8:45, turned in the car, checked our luggage at the remarkable self-service baggage check machines and headed for the gate. Deb went ahead as she walks much faster. As I got close to the gate, she returned saying that the gate had closed; it was 9:23am, twelve minutes to go. Seems the second bus to the plane leaves at twelve minutes before the departure time. Sigh! We got seats on the next flight at 2:55p and were assured that our two bags were not on the original flight. We had a productive four hours with the free airport WiFi and the flight was uneventful with fabulous cumulus clouds. Unfortunately, the baggage claim was uneventful too: no bags, although KLM had four plus hours to get them to the right place. Now, we’ve had really good luck, with no lost bags in a decade or more. But the last place one wants to be dependent on people to straighten out a mess is Italy, and particularly Florence, where Italian incompetence and indifference seems almost universal. The airport baggage service people took our information, told us that our bags would probably be on the next plane arriving at midnight and would then be delivered to us tomorrow. So we drove to the villa in our car, rented only so we could carry the bags conveniently, stopped at the supermarket for milk and juice, and were greeted by Antonio and Maria Grazia. Then out for some very unimpressive pizza at a popular local place and to bed in our clothes (mid-50s and, of course, no heat)!
B and Deb
Up early, we had our first coffee/pastry breakfast at our favorite local bar/pastry shop, Dolcidea, and discovered that their WiFi had gone south and that they were not going to replace it. A very serious development since we depend on that WiFi for large downloads for my programming. Because we had the car until Sunday afternoon, we decided that it would be the last opportunity to have lunch in Recco, a small town two hours up the coast just below Genoa. It’s been a favorite stop when we’ve driven to France but since the Vespa became our transportation we’ve been getting to France via Corsica on the ferry from Livorno. We had our usual favorite dishes starting with the porcini mushroom salad with shaved Parmigiano, Ligurian olive oil and lemon juice:
followed by the local specialty called focaccia col formaggio, made with very thin layers of light dough enclosing a local fresh cheese:
The biggest draw however is the pesto. We didn’t think there could be so much difference in the taste of pesto until we first had it in Liguria. The best is made with young basil from the town of Pra just north of Genoa. The most traditional shape for the pasta is trofie:
Hidden under the trofie are the traditional accompaniments of green beans and potato:
Finally, a pasta with branzino, a Mediterranean bass-like fish. We thought the idea of little bits of fish in a light sauce was terrific and we’re going to try to duplicate it.
Oh, did I mention that it rained all day? In fact, it was raining when we got off the plane and we’ve had about two hours of sunshine since. And the forecast is for more of the same.
B and Deb
And Deb made the duck ragu from chef Mark Ladner (when he was at Lupa in NYC) which then went into a lasagne:
While we were at the butcher, we spied a lovely looking rack of veal. So we asked for a thick lombatina (rib chop) and with slow baking and quick high-heat searing, it came out quite nicely:
One of the things we’re particularly fond of when we’re here is beef carpaccio with shaved parmigiano and rucola (from La Vecchia Bettola in Florence; no mayonnaise as invented at Harry’s Bar in Venice). The big advantage is that one can buy the meat already thinly-sliced at the supermarket. Needs olive oil, lemon juice and fleur de sel to be at its best:
Another thing that’s available here is lamb from extremely small animals. The biggest leg of lamb one can find weighs about two and a half pounds. We like it roasted, here with Jenny’s peppers (oil, garlic, oregano cherry tomatoes, and anchovies):
With the leftovers, we like to make the roast lamb sandwich discovered at Jean-George’s Mercer Kitchen in SoHo. More roasted peppers, basil mayonnaise and rucola:
Time out to report on success in finding a linen shirt that fits me at a reasonable price. Note the range of sizes being offered at this shop in Lucca; the Italian 4XL will do just fine:
More things we can find only here. The local baker has the very best raised doughnuts I’ve ever encountered. Absolutely ethereal.
And the only proper clams for spaghetti alle vongole are Italian, of course. You’d think that Mario could get them for Babbo in NYC but he serves Manila clams instead. We used to have our spaghetti alle vongole at Corallo, a local place now shuttered without explanation; we miss a lot of their dishes, e.g., spaghetti and fish cooked in parchment, and my favorite mascarpone, speck and rucola pizza. Now, we’ve had to learn how to make spaghetti alle vongole at home using the clams one can buy at our Carrefour hypermarket. We see no reason to be stingy with the clams so here’s our version with enough clams for two or three normal portions. (Excuse the informal presentation!)
Finally, you may have encountered lardo, heavily cured and spiced fatback but, as often seems to be the case, there’s only one place that produces something you’ll swoon over: the small town of Colonnata, thirty kilometers to the northwest. Stunningly wonderful plunked on top of a hot crostino, salty with rosemary overtones.
We’ve been out to eat only twice. On Sunday at 1:30p, we went to the prime local candidate to replace Cecco in Pescia, Ristorante L’Anfiteatro. Like the majority of serious Italian restaurants, they specialize in seafood, even going so far as to serve an all-crudo menu on Fridays. Here’s their warm seafood salad:
The second outing was to a local sagra, a charity event featuring local specialties and dancing with a live band. This sagra focuses on tordelli, a ravioli with a meat filling. We knew an Italian-American woman whose aunt was part of the team making the tordelli. As you can read on the placemat, the sponsor was the local blood bank:
A big part of our evenings is the cocktail hour, something we discovered only a year or so ago. (Of course, it was standard in the 50s when I was growing up but went far out of favor. We’re happy to be retro!) This is what it looked like a couple of nights ago:
On Saturday, we take off on the Vespa for Rome, Naples, and Ravello on the Amafi coast. We’ll let you know how it goes.
B and Deb
We methodically packed everything, conferred with Antonio about replacing the two windows with panes broken by a storm, and set off by 10:40a. (Only one problem, our carefully curated lunch, including some genuine porchetta from Ariccia, was left in the refrigerator!) [Deb here: Left the villa at 9:45 a.m.; off to a great start! I didn’t remember to take the prosciutto, salumi and salami Toscano from the refrigerator for our lunch on the road. We were lucky to find, when we stopped for gas, a wine bar next door which offered us a plate of freshly-sliced salumi and cheese along with a couple of beers.] [continuity broken here!]
Although we’d had some minor raindrops going for breakfast, most of the sky was blue and by the time we left, we had a sunny day. A wonderful ride through the most Italianesque countryside you can imagine. (Fede: try SR439 to Rome some day; passes 8 Km from Palaia!) Since it’s Saturday, the traffic was light with a remarkably large number of motorcycle tourers, probably explained by that fact that the road is solid twists and turns and just right for leaning into them.
Without our intended lunch we made do with a small bar in Saline di Volterra where we got an excellent substitute:
Our goal was the small town of Castelnuovo, whose only distinction, besides the very comfortable hotel, is a large nuclear power plant. We were installed there by 2:40p after just under three hours of riding with two long stops. Now we’re sitting on the hotel terrace with the local pale ale and some remarkably good potato chips. Tough life! [Deb here: Arrived at our destination for the night, a family-run country hotel with a decent restaurant which attracts a few local families on a Saturday night. We sat on the porch for the remainder of the afternoon reading the news online with little else to do in this town. Just before dinner, we ordered a couple of negroni prepared by the owner’s daughter.
We were given the option of eating in the empty main dining room (for tourists/guests) without a television, or joining all the locals, including two carabinieri in uniform, in the casual dining room with a television. We joined the locals, of course.]
The only interesting aspect of dinner was the garganelli with lardo, cherry tomatoes and pine nuts; the flavor of the lardo was in fact transferred to the sauce so we’ll give it a try when we’re back at the villa.
One thing that’s a little hard to get used to is the amazing assortment of devices which need to have their batteries charged, each one with a plug adapter; a portion of our nighttime exercise:
B and Deb
and I ordered my pizza bianca with mozzarella, zucchini flowers and anchovies:
[B here:] I can’t remember failing to follow a Baffetto pizza (which we calculated I’ve been consuming for at last 38 years) with a tartufo from the Bar Tre Scalini in Piazza Navona — something that Arthur Frommer (Europe on Five Dollars a Day) clued me into 42 years ago. It’s a ball of dark chocolate gelato surrounding a brandied cherry and covered on the outside with chips from a bar of dark chocolate and topped with whipped cream and the inevitable Italian froufrou. (Deb had one once about twenty years ago.) This isn’t a very descriptive photo but you can get the idea.
Tomorrow, the whole day in Rome!
B and Deb
[B here:] Can’t omit the fabulous bust of Innocent X (Pamphili) done by Bernini some years after the famous Velazquez portrait also in the Pamphili collection; when Urban VIII died in 1644, Innocent accused him of bankrupting the papal treasury and everyone associated with the Barberini were ostracized for a while (Bernini then did the Saint Teresa for the Comaro family).
[Deb again] Our Rome hotel has a terrific rooftop terrace,
where we enjoyed two Aperol spritz.
At the end of the day we had dinner at Da Pancranzio in Piazza Biscione, a great find from our visit last year. We loved the table which had the benefits of being both inside and outside:
One of their specialties is carciofi alla giudia (fried artichoke):
B and Deb
which included olives, olive oil and wine produced on the estate. The peppers and mushrooms sotto olio were particularly fine and we resolved to learn how to do them:
The primo of garganelli with a sauce of chopped tomatoes and zucchini and drizzled with the farm’s olive oil:
And for dessert, a plate of fresh fruit from the farm very skillfully presented:
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Wednesday, June 22, Napoli. Easy morning; left just after noon. Getting down off the mountain was not, to our relief, the challenge we had feared. We were
looking forward to stopping at one of the mozzarella di bufala cheese factory (caseificio) which dot the highway and found just what we wanted: hours-old mozzarella with prosciutto and bread. (Forgot to take pictures!)
We were in Naples and installed by 3pm in the wonderful hotel (San Pietro) we’d discovered by chance two years ago returning from Tunisia. We decided to stay close to home for dinner so went to the first pizzeria I ever tried, the very well-regarded but under patronized Trianon da Ciro. Arriving when it opened at 7pm we ate alone but it was a fitting start. Here’s what a true Neapolitan crust should look like:
From a classic Margherita pie:
More pizza tomorrow!
B and Deb
We had the Margherita, of course, with not a lot of cheese but lots of puffy crust with real flavor:
One of us must have been on a low-carb diet, because this was left at the end:
As we left we noticed some trash which had been left on the curb. Caputo is the best regarded of the millers and its famous zero-zero flour is commonly used for pizza.
We seriously considered getting to the Archeological Museum during the afternoon but settled for a nap. We went again to Starita for evening pizza (this time when it was open) and focused on their specialties: Deb had deep-fried fiori di zucca and I had a fried pizza for the first time. Neither very photogenic but here’s what a fried pizza looks like:
Finally, here’s the list of the fifteen best pizzerias in Italy from the Daily Meal (whatever that is) which hangs at the door of da Michele:
Off to Ravello tomorrow!
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Friday, June 24, Ravello. [Deb:] Our plan to drive from Napoli to the Amalfi Coast on the local road through Ercolano and Pompeii turned out not to be such a great idea. The “main” road was paved with stones which were incredibly bumpy. After about 30 minutes of this we turned off to join the autostrada. As it turned out, we were much happier on the three-lane highway where we weren’t slowing anyone down and we made very good time to our exit for the road carrying us over the mountain to Ravello and the coast.
At the end of the autostrada exit ramp we found — lunch! A shop selling freshly-made mozzarella di bufala also had seating and a counter for two. We pulled out our picnic kit and ordered mozzarella, sliced prosciutto, and sliced bread. I wandered over to the bar next door to find two cold bottles of Heineken for our picnic break, albeit indoors.
After lunch, we were ready for our final trek over the mountain toward the coast, which was a wonderful and beautiful ride. After less than an hour, and our final twisting and turning descent from Ravello, we arrived at the Hotel Villa San Michele, and to a spectacular view of azure sea and flowering bougainvillea shading the hotel parking space (which is above the hotel on the coastal road). Here is B, having just removed his helmet:
Reception and the rooms are accessed by descending a long series of stone stairs, perhaps 35 meters down. Francesco, the young man who greeted us, was able to carry the three heaviest bags at once to our room, which has a large terrace overlooking the sea. This is our view:
More tomorrow!
B and Deb
We did little those days: we went to both Amalfi (3 km to the west) and Ravello (5km to the north up the mountain) and in each case concluded that we were in Disney World where a picturesque Italian coastal village had been overrun by tourists of the type one would wish to avoid. We stopped in a gelateria but walked out after being ignored for five minutes although there was someone behind the counter doing some sort of housekeeping chore. We sat down at a large cafe for some coffee but got up after no waiter appeared for ten minutes. That’s just the way it is in such places! We did have a good time doing our laundry and shopping for lunch supplies at the supermarket in Maiori (5 km to the east) where the relatively few tourists appeared to be Italians.
We were looking forward to four relaxing days during which we could take in the sun on our terrace and eat well each evening in the hotel restaurant (we had half-board). Only the tail end of yesterday and today did we have the expected sun and only about a third of the dishes served to us at dinner were of particular interest (another third were passable and the final third should not have reached the table).
Although the hotel was admirably situated and had charming public spaces (here’s the dining room:)
our room was plain in the extreme and the shower a disaster: about 30” square with an opening which even Deb had to squeeze through (imagine the contortions I had to go through to get in and out). So, one wins mostly, but sometimes loses.
Some of the good dishes: mussels with paccheri:
A very nice fish risotto:
A well-seasoned rabbit stew:
An example of the not-so-terrific: ricotta ravioli with fish sauce:
One of the best things about the overcast and humid weather is the way it affects Deb’s hair. She’s spent a lifetime trying to keep it smooth but I’m very fond of its natural state, demonstrated here after some resistance:
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[Deb:] Knowing that Gore Vidal had lived in Ravello for 30 years, we made an effort to try to locate his former villa. I stepped out onto our terrace, understanding that the villa was perched on a cliff high above the sea, and spotted it immediately. So much for effort! Villa Rondinaia, which was on the market last November, has been purchased by a local hotelier who owns other properties available for weddings and high-end rentals (www.rondinaia.it). I took this photo on one of the two days when the fog and clouds were closing in, which reminded me of being in a Maine harbor.
B took this photo as I paused on the evening “climb” up to dinner.
Monday was the holiday honoring St. Andrew, the patron saint of Amalfi. There was to be a procession in the streets of Amalfi followed by fireworks at 11:30pm. After considering going, we decided to visit Ravello instead, where B and I found a tiny (it must fit in one of our backpacks) bowl with a painted lemon in one of the many ceramic shops.
B and Deb
Here’s the spaghetti con la colatura di alici (garlic, tomato, red pepper flakes, parsley, EVOO, colatura) with a strand of fried spaghetti sticking straight up about 10” (I love these little tricks which cost nothing and enhance the presentation!).
Deb had found an inexpensive rate at an enormous and elaborate hotel on the western edge of the Salerno harbor (watch the ferries come in!). We thought it would be a nice break but in fact it was an education in Italian sensibilities: hundreds of rooms (two different elevators to get to ours) and oodles of money spent on details. We felt sorry for the investors. But there was a good crowd for a wedding reception who clearly thought they were in a classy place. Go figure! We weren’t very hungry come suppertime so Deb did a little research and found us Mythos, a fine authentic Greek restaurant in the middle of Salerno:
On Thursday, we were happy to head back to Naples to see whether we could make ourselves sick of pizza. We had three nights (to add to the two on the way south) and there were still major pizzerias we hadn’t yet been to. We’ll spare you the photos of so many Margherita pizzas and simply say that on this trip we ate at the following places: Trianon da Ciro (2), da Michele (2), Brandi, Port’Alba, Starita, and di Matteo. All worthy contenders although da Michele clearly deserves its fame. Here’s the most photogenic pizza (da Michele):
We did finally get our visit to the Archeological Museum (our fifth) and saw again the fabulous mosaics from Pompei. The highlight, though, was this unlabeled caryatid in the center of the courtyard (perhaps modern?).
As if that weren’t enough pizza, the latest rage in the pizza world is Pepe in Grani, located 50km northeast of Naples in the small mountain town of Caiazzo and masterminded by Franco. It has recently had world-class PR and in consequence the pizzeria added two overnight rooms to its location. We thought it would make a good stopover point between Naples and Rome and liked the idea of eating as much pizza as we could stand and they having our room steps away. Well, the pizza was terrific; mozzarella di bufala, yellow pomodorini, sun-dried tomatoes:
and mozzarella di bufala, pomodorini, olives, anchovies, oregano:
Fabulous crust:
but the lodgings were a disaster: very au courant Italian interior design so clean that there was no normal chair in the room, no table or desk, and one reading light for the bed. It didn’t help when we discovered that the nearby pasticceria where we were supposed to have breakfast and leave our key was on holiday!!
In Caserta, we did extend our string of watching Wimbledon every year:
We’ll pick up in Rome in the next Report.
B and Deb
Perhaps more readable if you can see the inside:
Then fried stuffed fiori di zucca, and a disappointing veal agnolotti. The best was last as we ordered the fragoline: the wild strawberries with a very short season and definitive flavor. We had a bottle of Super Tuscan wine, Le Serre Nuove, the big sister to our favorite Ornellaia wine (Le Volte) and it was terrific.
On Wednesday, lunch at Volpetti, especially their super-fine fiori di zucca pizza (note also the potato pizza to the left):
Thursday, we went early to the Galleria Borghese to see all of our favorites. It was amazing that one minute an enormous crowd (twenty people of whom three would be looking at the art) would be gathered in front of one of the sculptures and five minutes later there’d be a single person; we learned to bide our time and let the crowds move on. For the first time in years, there seemed to be no attempt to prevent pictures being taken, so here’s my favorite part of Pluto and Persephone, little Cerberus guarding the gate to hell:
and our joke shot:
We then went to S. Maria del Popolo (Caravaggio, Bernini) but it was closed up tight. So onward to see S. Teresa. We were able to find an empty spot in the giant swarm of motorini in front of S. Maria della Vittoria:
One more Baffetto visit:
and
Just to show the difference between Neapolitan and Roman pizza, here’s a Roman crust:
At last, a decent picture of a Tre Scalini tartufo:
Tomorrow, we join John and Vanessa for a visit in Rome at long last!
B and Deb
Then, in Rome, when we go to Baffetto for pizza, we go early arriving just before they open and our long-time waiter (red shirt) allows us to sit in the as-yet-empty dining room at our favorite table, the one which allows us to watch the pizzas being made and put into the oven (just to the left of the pizzaioli, who are bantering before the non-stop four-hour service):
After two years of planning we finally had our long-anticipated visit with John and Vanessa Wilcox at Vanessa’s family’s garden apartment in Rome. As they had arrived from NY the day before we elected a leisurely agenda which included three meals at top-notch Roman restaurants and the highlight of a performance of Nabucco at the Baths of Caracalla.
We were so engrossed at Nino on Friday night that I have no pictures for you but can summarize by saying that when in Rome eat the fried snacks which are unequalled anywhere (see below). We had lunch on Saturday at Gusto, one of our favorites (we have their logo napkins in our picnic kit). The highlight was the steak tartare:
Before the opera, we settled in at Al Pompiere, where the Roman classics included this superb plate of fried items (two artichokes, a stuffed fiore di zucca, and an arrancino):
We weren’t allowed to photograph the opera itself but here’s the empty set:
[Deb here:] The four of us set off on Sunday morning to visit the church of Sant’Ivo which is only open for Mass on Sundays. Were we disappointed to learn that during the months of July and August the church was closed with no Masses (of course, there was no indication of the closing on the internet; one must show up). Under the circumstances, we walked across the street to the Piazza Navona and had breakfast outdoors at Tre Scalini, where B ended breakfast with his last tartufo of the summer. He just couldn’t justify sitting at Tre Scalini and not ordering a tartufo, no matter the time of day!
As we left, John kindly took the first photos of us packed up on the Vespa since five years ago:
We had an amusing encounter when we pulled into a roadside restaurant just before 3pm looking for lunch. An Italian Harley-Davidson club of twenty or so were just finishing lunch and posed for photos on their way out.
I thought the attraction of the foreign was amusing: the Italians had to have American motorcycles and the Americans had to have a Vespa.
Late Sunday afternoon we arrived at an agriturismo southwest of Grosseto, to have dinner and spend the night. The dinner highlight was a pesto, potato and artichoke lasagne which we’ve since duplicated at home (more later). Late Monday afternoon, after our favorite ride along SS439, we arrived home.
B and Deb
We spent the first week stocking up on food and going from one professional to the next trying to figure out the best way for me to arrange for succession of my share of the villa. The takeaway is that you should not own real estate in Italy. It took visits with multiple people (lawyer, 2 notaio, 3 geometra) but, most important, lots of Google searching before I could get the lay of the land. One could rarely learn anything new from one of these people but it was possible to clarify or confirm what I’d learned on the Internet.
On Friday we went to Florence to see a museum exhibit by John Currin and eat at Cibreo Trattoria. The museum was the collection of a leading late-19th Century dealer in antiquities (just as they were becoming popular) and the modern paintings were scattered among the Roman statues. Here’s the best example, Nude in a Convex Mirror:
Cibreo Trattoria was the usual hit! For the first time in our experience, they were serving outside (and not inside). All four of our items were excellent but we particularly enjoyed revisiting their well-known Pomodoro in Gelatina. Deb had discovered the recipe on Fabio Picchi’s website so we could discuss the preparation with the knowledgable waitress. [Serves 4: 1 garlic clove 8 basil leaves 1 bunch parsley 1 hot chili pepper 6 leaves of gelatine 750 g peeled tomatoes 6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil salt. Preparation: Chop finely garlic, basil and parsley, then mix with the chili. Soften the gelatin in cold water. Pass the tomatoes through a sieve; heat a part of the puree of tomatoes in a pan and mix in the well squeezed gelatin. Remove the saucepan from the heat and incorporate the remainder of the tomato puree. Season to taste, add the chopped herbs and a dash of extra virgin olive oil by turning the whole thing very well. Pour the mixture into four small ramekins and place in the refrigerator for at least three hours.]
Deb tried it the minute we got home, with great success:
The other famous item we ordered was the Roasted Yellow Pepper Soup. Patricia Wells published the recipe years ago in her book “Trattoria” with modifications which didn’t help it. Here’s what it looks like at Cibreo:
We like it enough (even though it competes with our Red Pepper Soup, which is not roasted) that we’ll be working on a recipe in the coming months; we’ll put it up on food.ruml.com.
We were impressed by a potato, artichoke and pesto lasagne we were served at the agritourismo we stopped at on the way home from Rome. We thought our attempt to duplicate it was very successful (attention: Wheeler):
Since the beef in Italy is strictly inferior (absolutely lean), we focus on veal and lamb. We got a nice leg of lamb at the supermarket (as is typical, very small by American standards: less than 3 pounds) and finally managed to cook it properly; 20 minutes in a 240 degree oven:
Made a lovely dinner with Deb’s roasted potatoes and yellow beans from Antonio’s garden:
Speaking of which, here’s a typical delivery by Antonio from his orto:
To close out this report, I thought we’d show you the kitchen at the villa. You can see that the sink is original, built-in and at the height appropriate for an Italian woman in 1790:
B and Deb
We did make sure that we had spaghetti alle vongole again, this time with fewer clams in a serving:
We had two meals out. First, Sunday noontime at Anfiteatro a very typical local Italian attempt at a destination restaurant: spangles galore but very decently prepared local dishes. They, like most restaurants, specialize in seafood so we had the grilled bronzino — impressive enough that we’ll be trying to duplicate it in Cambridge:
Second, we returned to the very traditional place in Lucca that Calvin Trillin has raved about for decades, da Giulio. Although they had my favorite pollo al mattone, we passed because we’ve finally be able to duplicate it (secret: cornish hen; see food.ruml.com). We had gnocchi with gorgonzola and walnuts:
which was so terrific that we went straight home and did it with some hollow fusilli (more walnuts!):
We had a very nice ensalada del mare calda. I’ve been bugging Deb to let me buy some frozen seafood which should make this dish a snap but she says we had a bad experience with frozen seafood the last time we tried it.
We’ve been pondering whether it would be fun to have a 3D model of the villa since we now have new fairly accurate floor plans. But we have no elevations, so to enable Kate to make the model we took a whole series of pictures of the outside using Deb as a scale. Here’s the front:
You might wonder what occupies our thoughts (or at least mine) during the 9-hour plane trip home. Here are three of them — a fourth is corn-on-the-cob. First, the wild blueberry tart (the most popular recipe Women’s Day ever published):
Then a sampling from Fugaku in Coolidge Corner:
And finally, Durgin Park at home with Deb’s Robuchon pureed potatoes:
And that’s it — a wrap until next year!
B and Deb