We're staying at a new spot for me -- La Capannine Sommavilla. The restaurant has been one of my favorites since 2000, and for the first time I get to check out the farmhouse. It is in a sweet location above the valley with views of the castles dotting the Tuscany Umbria border.
Our friend Thomas will be training down from Hamburg to join us. Sally, Thomas and I were bosom buddies during the San Francisco years, until Thomas deserted us to live in Europe. I don't think we've all been together since Sally and Steve's wedding in 2001. Thomas will get to meet Steve and Sally's daughter Mina for the first time. And Stephanie Rose, Steve's older daughter, will get to appreciate Thomas's quirky sense of humor.
And then there are the Italian reunions... with friends, places, favorite gelaterias. The time will fly by. Two weeks, three weeks, four... it's never enough.
Location, Location, Location
Italy was a blast. It is always a joy to go, but this time I had 2 weeks of restful lounging in the hills near Sorbello Castle at a working organic farm. In the evening you could hear the bells on the sheep as they ambled down the hillside for feeding. And in the morning, we were greeted with a basket of fresh eggs, or a bag of fresh picked plums or heads of lettuce the size of small cars. My companions were long time friends from San Francisco who share the whole slow food/slow travel ethos. So, we were simpatico.
Our hosts -- Alfredo Anitory and Cristine Coudray -- have been working the land for 30 years. After meeting in Rome at university, they packed up and bought 100+ hectares in the hills and over time have created La Capannine Sommavilla, a farm that supports an agritourismo (vacation home), an organic restaurant and a small gourmet shop offering local organic products like honey, wine, lentils, pasta, jams, cheese, etc. What an auspicious hook up to start a foodie's vacation.
There are so many food festivals and events during the summer. We had just missed the Sagra di Pesce (Fish Festival) in Calzolaro. As luck would have it, the day I arrived there was an International Food Market being held in Perugia. Melchiorre and Dana picked me up at the airport, and we toodled off. Vendors were set up in huge field on the outskirts of town. Cheese makers, salami makers, candy makers, Pasta vendors, mustard and marmalade makers... all mixed in with hand made soaps, wood and copper work, and the standard market products like silly t-shirts and kitchen gear. Dana found homemade licorice. Not the gummy kind we know, but a shiny black block the size of pony keg. The woman manning the booth used a small hammer to chip off bits to fill a small bag. It looked like coal and tastes as bitter as oil. This is the real deal licorice - not for the faint of heart.
There were a number of cheesemakers from the north. Since my friends were arriving late from Rome, I promised to do a little grocery shopping to stock the house. With so much to choose from it was a tough choice but we ended up with a fresh gorgonzola (for figs) and a few very nice pecorino cheeses -- a pecorino stagionato (aged), a pecorino fresco, and a pecorino rubbed with sage. Melchiorre got to chatting with one of the cheesemakers from the north. He was also selling a lovely homemade salami. I added that to the larder.
For lunch we chose a German stand and a selection of grilled sausages, with wine, of course. Melchiorre, Dana and I sat under the umbrellas munching and sharing from our plates until it was time to meander home.
Travel Trials
Steve, Sally and tribe were due in around 7ish by my calculation. They'd flown SF to Amsterdam, Amsterdam to Rome, and counting in car rental and some general driving confusion, they would it the hill between 7 and 8pm. Or not.
More often than not, there some kind of a glitch in long distance travel. Cell phones make life easier, allowing you to reach the folks you need to reach, share the key info, etc. Sally and Steve both had cell phones that Verizon assured them would work internationally. So, as time rolled on, I figured I would hear something soon. My own phone was fast running out of money but incoming calls are free.
I stocked the kitchen, unpacked, got acclimated... read a bit, texted friends, left messages for Steven and Sally. But time ticked by... 7:00pm, 8:00pm, 9:00pm. By now, with a 5 year old traveling, I figured they would tell me the plane had been late and they would stay in Rome and attempt to find me in the daylight. I checked in with Cristine, who waits at the restaurant at the bottom of the hill for arriving guests. I tried calling from her phone in the restaurant in case my cell was an issue. Nothing, just the standard "your party is not available" message. Cristine would be open for awhile longer though.. 10:00pm, 10:30pm, 11:00pm. Cristine came up the hill to find out if I had heard anything. She sweetly reassured me that it was her job to wait for people and she would head back to the restaurant for a while longer in case... and she admonished me to relax and not worry.
So I got in my jammies, made a cup of tea and tried to read. No matter though... all I could think of were these poor tired, bedraggled people who had been on a long flight, may have been delayed, may be lost trying to find one of these vacation homes up long gravel roads in the hills, in the dark... with a 5 year old who has never done a transatlantic flight. The words flashing in my mind were "cranky, tired, annoyed, frayed, alarmed". I could not sit in my jammies with a cup of tea while friends were in peril! (What if they were lost!? We had no phone contact. How would they find me? Had I given them enough detail about the place? Did they know the area well enough? Did they print out a map?) You can see by my inner monologue that "alarmed" actually applied to me. I picked up my purse and jumped in my car, jammies and all, and started down the hill to sit with Cristine. What I expected that to accomplish, I'm not sure but at least I wouldn't feel guilty for relaxing when others were stressing. (Was I raised Catholic or what?)
The house we rented is up a winding gravel road of a bit more than 3 kilometers. There are less than half a dozen properties along the road before you get to the top, and the gate for Sommavilla. If you had never been here before, you would not know where to go. About half way down the hill, I saw bright lights coming up toward me so I pulled in a bit so we could draw abreast. Lo and behold, Steve, Sally, Stephanie and a wide awake Mina! Whew! We made it. They had no idea where they were going, but if the road had not panned out they would have headed back to the restaurant to see if Cristine was still there.
I thought they would be exhausted. Turns out that the Amsterdam to Rome flight had been canceled and morphed into an Amsterdam to Paris/Paris to Rome flight. So they landed about the time I expected them to arrive at Sommavilla. And maddeningly, their Verizon international phones did not work in Europe. Stephanie had to text her mom, who tried to call me from the states.
It must have been around midnight by the time we got settled. We opened a bottle of red wine and toasted the start of a much needed vacation!
Norcia - Home of the Pig
In the two years I lived in Umbria, I never made it into the Sybilline Mountains to Norcia nor Castelluccio. Known for its beauty... the craggy Sybilline cup small towns in its valleys and plains, offering sweeping views of wildflower-covered plains and snowy ridges. Norcia, one of its largest towns, is known for a number of local craft and farm products. Chief among them are black truffles and the wares of the norcerini, makers of salamis and cured pork products. Castelluccio, a nearby town, is the home of the eponymous lentils.
Steve, being a parishioner of great enthusiasm at the altar of pork, was enthused to say the least about a trip South to Norcia. Umbria is not huge, but since there are no direct routes through the mountains, we packed some snacks and headed south to Spoleto then east into the Vallo di Nera. At first we road along narrow gorges and valleys with steep, treed slopes but as we approached Norcia, the valleys opened up and we were treated to a paintbox of colors... stripes of red, yellow, white and blue in the fields and the easy slopes. Norcia itself is an ancient pre-Roman settlement. Devastated a few times by earthquakes, they no longer build anything over two stories. Sprung from the car after a long drive, we were thrilled to wander in the old walled town. Norcia was full of salumi vendors. Cartoons of pigs danced merrily outside while hairy, stuffed wild boar were mounted (whole and head alone) on the doorsteps. To sate ourselves, we stopped in the first shop inside the gate to get an eyeful of salamis and cheeses, pastas, lentils and other forest goods. After much sniffing and considering, we bought 4 types of salumi (including culoni di mulo arranged in 2 large sacks), a nice pecorino cheese, lentils, and a shrink wrapped packet of black truffles. The truffles were a bit past their prime, but still, with a fresh pasta, we anticipated a good meal.
Pasta Fresca, Pasta Festa
Thomas has been adamant that we needed to make fresh pasta. He is an old hand… a few years back when he was visiting me here, we went to a Melchiorre extravaganza and Thomas transported by the idea of making his own pasta. Once back home in Germany, he started experimenting. On this trip, he really wanted to make pasta with Melchiorre and refine his technique. There are always questions... "did I remember this properly, how long do I knead, is my texture right, do you add salt?" Unfortunately, the Amore Sapore team was so busy they could not come and play. But knowing the chef has its perks. We borrowed Melchiorre’s pasta machine and set about making our own tagliatelle. Thomas, resident expert, dove right in... to the elbows. (Here are a few shots. To see the 23 step process and check out the short video, go to my flickr site.)
The mixing was a delicate operation. You needed to whittle away at the well wall without breaking through. While Thomas mixed, I shored up the walls. Once everything was combined and he could begin kneading, we were on a roll. Literally.
Thomas was very comfortable with the old crank machine. Its exactly what he bought in Germany. He split the dough into three balls, held 2 under a slightly damp cloth while he worked with the other... feed, crank, fold, feed, crank, fold until the texture was consistently smooth, no cracks, no tears. As he fed the pasta through the machine to be cut, we arranged the handfuls of cut pasta into little nests under a damp cloth. A lobster pot full of water was coming to a boil. Steve, Stef and Mina were setting the table outside on the veranda overlooking the meadow and the valley. Sally sliced tomatoes and mozzarella for a gorgeous insalata caprese – fresh tomatoes and basil, buffalo mozzarella, fresh pepper, a touch of salt and a drizzle of deep green Umbrian olive oil. Meravigliosa!
The cooked pasta was tossed with a light touch of olive oil. At the table we grated the truffles and freshly grated parmesan cheese over each bowl. What an aroma…
We sat outside and ate fresh pasta while the sun set. Sipping wine and eating fresh pasta with your amici... what more is there?
A Preview of London 2010
David and Jessica were wonderful hosts. David wants to be sure you see everything possible, and Jess wants you to hang out and drink tea. Together, its a lovely combination. David had gotten tickets for a barge ride through London's rivers and canals. What was really intriguing was that a) I had no idea there was such an extensive waterway in London, and b) the tour was of the area London is developing for the 2010 Olympics.
The area of the city designated for the Olympics is an industrial no man's land and our guide pointed out where the stadium would go, where athlete housing would be built, and how the Olympic territory would be reintegrated into London once the event was past. It was a fascinating glimpse into the process of creating a monumental global event.
The real surprise were the canals. If you think about it, once upon a time many small rivers flowed through London to empty into the Thames. How else would goods and people get into town, without an extensive, safe roadways? Eventually, rivers were tamed with stone and cement banks, and linked with canals. Here, in the heart of a huge metropolitan sprawl we saw swans with gawky cygnets, ducks, herons, and all kinds of plant life. (Drat me. I forgot to put the camera in my bag.)
My hosts live in Enfield, a small English town with a river running through it. The path running along river looks into back gardens on the far side and small front gardens on the other. David and Jess have a lovely back garden, planted with fruit trees, climbing roses, vining solanum and myriad cottage flowers. I never saw them, but I am told a family of foxes lives in the garden and entertains Jess in the morning while she works in the kitchen. It was the perfect way to ease into real life after 2 weeks in the Italian hills... and seeing David and Jessica again made it special.
2008 
