Siena - The Food Issue

The weather has been (and still is) outstanding, and the drive to Siena through La Pianella offers is lush and green. But Siena, on its commanding hilltop, packed with narrow "vicoli" and multi-story medieval buildings, was really chilly despite the sunshine. Dress in layers and scarves this time of year, just in case!

I was in search of a good restaurant for my clients arriving this week. Something beyond the over-priced, mediocre restaurants in the Piazza del Campo.

Don't get me wrong. There are few experiences as enjoyable and memorable as lounging in the sunshine at an outside table in the piazza with the tower bells ringing. By all means, stop for something cold (or hot) to drink, and just take it in.

But then do yourself a favor, and head to Ristorante Guidoriccio. Let Ercole ("Like Hercules", he says, proudly flexing his biceps) take care of you. A tiny doorway a few steps down the Via Giovanni Dupres from Il Piazza del Campo, a street just to the right as you face the tower.

So many things are "word-of-mouth" here, and I'm grateful to two expats that I met at Bar'Ucci in Volpaia yesterday. There are two dining rooms in this vaulted, ancient cantina...and a passage that leads further down, into the historic depths of the city.

And the food.

Oh my.

A complimentary starter of "papa pomodoro" - succulent with marinated tomatoes and bread. Ercole tells me that it's a favorite food for the children. Count me in. This is followed by scallopini di maile (pork) with roasted potatoes.

And for dessert, wedges of mild "cacia" cheese with sliced winter pears topped with a Chianti cinnamon sauce.

Reservations confirmed for my guests, I know that they will be in good hands. As I leave, Ercole stresses that I tell people about my experience and to please write in Trip Advisor:)

Done deal, dude.

Ciao for now.

Economics "Roman Style" & the Realignment of the Planets

It was snowing at my home in Portland, but my second day in Tuscany was beautiful...sunny and clear with that very distinct Italian palette in full play.

I had lunch with my colleague to discuss the guests visiting this spring. After a wonderful fresh tagliatelle at Il Fornace di Meleto (Roman-Style...to go "Dutch"), I made the rounds to confirm cooking classes, winery tours and restaurant reservations. Many establishments are just opening up for the season, and there is relief in the air.

The prevailing sentiment is that the new Italian government is laying all of its economic woes on the citizenry...Roman Style, I guess. Prices have increased due to extra taxation, and people are struggling.

But the exchange rate to the dollar is the best I've seen for a while...1.32 at the bank, so there is hope that this will bring the American tourists. Last minute bookings seem to be endemic at this point, making it challenging for hotels and restaurants to plan and staff efficiently.

All of which means that it's a great time to visit Italy. Italian hospitality will always outshines the worry.

As I drove into Volpaia in the early evening, Gina stopped me to tell me about the confluence of Jupiter and Venus, telling me to come to the piazza at 9pm to see it.

I took a sunset photo walk and forced myself to stay awake. As instructed, at 9pm I walked out the door(with multiple layers...the nights are still chilly). All of the stars were clear and bright, and I wondered if I would recognize the planets if I saw them.

Then "ecco". Hanging over one of the castello rooftops, like multi-colored spotlights. Incredible. Others came out to admire. Que bellissimo.

I went back to my warm bed and was out in a heartbeat. The planets still have their act together.

Ciao for now.

After a Hard Winter - An Afternoon of Tuscan Conversation

The first day doesn't count. No matter how I try to manage or overcome jet lag, it's a "throw-away-day". I can't speak Italian, even though I was speeding through my Pimsleur lessons back in Oregon. I look like death. Awake at 3:45am. Nothing for it but to power through the day, and try to delay bedtime a couple of hours.

Just for the record. I abstained from drinking on the flight on this trip. All it did was insure that I would not sleep during the entire 16 hours en route. I may have been more hydrated, but it felt horrible. I intend to remedy that on the flight home:)

This morning (did I mention 3:45am???) I called my almost-teenagers, who had no interest whatsoever in talking to their mom, then finally talked myself into a morning walk. A resolution shared by the local wildlife. Rounding a corner on a steep uphill climb, I heard a roar that I swear sounded like a bear. There are no bears here. But there also aren't supposed to be wild llamas, and there are. At least one. So.

This not-so-little piggy just did not sound friendly. Cinghiale are prized for how they taste with fresh pasta, and this one preferred a long life. I ran. And thus became the joke of the village.

Gina: "How big was it?"

Me: "Really BIG."

Oriano: "Why didn't you kill it?"

Me: "Because I was running away."

Lina: "They aren't dangerous."

Me: "Tell the boar. Please."

Oriano: "He was just trying to speak English."

Me: "No comment."

This conversation took place while we were sitting in the brilliant spring sunshine, tasting the local priest's attempt at Limoncello. And a half hour discussion of its merits and shortcomings:

Lina: "It's too strong"

Oriano: "The taste of lemon is good"

Me: "It's not sweet enough"

Not even the priest can win in this crowd.

I love this place.

A Lesson on Italian Hospitality - Ospitalità.

When there is a table, there is a table.

I’ve been taking business trips internationally for over 22 years, and have done a lot of dining alone. A big fan of MFK Fisher, I’ve learned to boldly entertain myself, take my time, order what I want, enjoy the view or read a book.

But when it is tourist season in Chianti, I try to watch for lines at the door. Particularly when I know the owners. No sense in lingering at a table for four when it’s just me.

In Italy, tables are normally booked for dinner for the entire evening…it’s expected that meals will last 2-3 hours. But still, the tourist season is shorter than they might wish, and I find myself being uber-sensitive. Not a bad thing, but twice on this trip I found that I had forgotten the sense of hospitality here.

The first time, I sat in the piazza in Volpaia late on a hot afternoon, at a table for 4 (so that I could spread out my work) having a beer and working on my computer. The afternoon wore into evening, and I ordered my favorite Bar’Ucci meal, simple pasta pomodori and a fresh green salad. While I was seated, a crowd of 10 people came up, and started arranging chairs and tables around. There was only room for 6, so I felt guilty, and got up to pay the bill and leave. At which point Paola tells me to stay here, where it is “fresca”. “Your house will be hot”, she says. I tell her that the other people could use the extra table, and she says…“Quando c'è un tavolo, c'è una tabella.” When there is a table, there is a table.

She then brings me a glass of Chianti Riserva on the house.

Next lesson, same situation, but at Pizzeria da Michele. I am trying to get a check. There is a line of people at the door waiting to sweat from the heat of his pizza oven, which turns out amazing stuff. I’m not in a hurry, but… Michele comes up to me and apologizes because he thinks that I am getting frustrated waiting for his son to bring the check, but I explain that I want to free the table. And he says, “Non ti preoccupare. Saranno aspettare". Don’t worry…they will wait.

I enjoy the sunset and stop worrying. Ah…Italia.

Ciao for now!

To be busy. I am idle.

Sfaccendre...to be busy. Sfaccendato...I am idle.

Go figure.

The bells are ringing in the castle in Radda. Not ringing, actually, but singing. It's 7 in the evening at Pizzeria da Michele. And yes, still hot. The pizza oven is not exactly cooling things off!

I started the day with another walk up the hill. Almost 30 degrees C at 8am. A quick espresso while Paola and Lina helped me work on the word for "sweaty". Paola used a word that sounded like one of the above. But she is never idle. So I'm confused.

I met early with my colleague, Valeria, and then took a personal moment to go to the Sunday market in Panzano. I was thrilled that the guys at the fruit and vegetable stand recognized me! And the cheese guy too! It's the little things in life that make the difference...something that Italy is always reminding me. I bought some fresh mozzarella to go with the huge, ripe tomatoes left on my door by our caretaker in Volpaia.

I'd originally planned to shoot a promotional video today, but the heat beat me back. So I decided to visit Willie, a colorful character and a fixture at nearby Monte Bernardi winery. I'm especially fond of him and his wife; his son and daughter run the winery but today Willie was on tasting duty. We chatted for a while, and then 2 groups of tourists poured into the air conditioned tasting room. And I was in for an education...he was on a roll.

A wine must meet these 3 criteria in order to be a Chianti Classico and display the round Gallo Nero label (the Black Rooster is the symbol of Chianti):

1. It must contain at least 80% Sangiovese grapes (this one I did know);

2. The producing vineyards may not be irrigated, in the belief that vines must suffer to be a true Chianti Classico (at this winery there are two containers where they proudly display the rocky soil); and,

3. No screw tops are allowed, the wine must have a cork (I like this one. Screw tops bring up memories of Spanada and Mad Dog in my high school days).

Monte Bernardi produces only organic wine, called "Biologica" in Italy, which carries the additional requirements that no chemical fertilizers, insecticides or sulfates may be used. And the grapes are picked by hand, not by machine...evidently machine harvesting scares all of the critters, lizards and whatnot into the vines where they end up in the harvest, hence the need for sulfates to destroy any possible bacteria. Eeew. Monte Bernardi uses stinging nettle juice to control insects, and nutritious plantings between rows are plowed under to provide natural fertilizer.

A Chianti Classico Riserva, then, must have at least 95% Sangiovese, and it is oak barrel-aged.

A SuperTuscan is a relatively new appellation designed to accommodate the great blends being produced that were reduced to a "table wine" category because they did not meet the Chianti Classico rules. Think Nobilo, Brunello, Sassicaia...These world-renowned wines must be 45% Sangiovese and are blended with Merlot, and other varietals.

Willie ends the tour with a great marketing line..."Our wine is made in the fields, not in the cantina".

Yum. I bought a few bottles as gifts and go on my merry way. Tomorrow back to work.

Ciao for now!

To sweat. I am sweaty.

Today’s word is “sudare”. Sono sudata. The sweating is easy, but remembering this word is hard…don’t know quite why. To illustrate, at least twice today I have told someone “I am a sweaty guy”. Sudato. Sudata. Mamma mia!

But whatever problems the heat is imposing, I am having no issue adjusting to the pace here. It settles my soul.

I’m sitting in the Ristorante Spadaforte in Siena, on the shady side of Il Campo, if there is such a thing today. Bright white gargoyle-wolves look down on the tourists, snarling in the heat. There is a crowd clustered in the shade of the enormous, narrow tower…anxious to climb thousands of stairs at 43°C. They move over as the shadow shifts on the red bricks.

Il Campo feels like the center of the universe at times, with its radiating white spokes and limitless horizons as seen from the tower. I’ve given up on capturing the warm brick and pink tones, but find a nice Tuscan gold.

I order a bottle of water as soon as I sit down, primarily to hold it’s icy goodness on the back of my neck.

It’s hard to imagine this plaza crowded with thousands in the full sun for the Palio, arguably the strangest race in the world. High noon. Sweaty horses (Sudati?). Bareback riders in silk pajamas. No discernable rules. A horse can win the race riderless.

Most of the neighborhood flags have been taken down since the recent race, but I can still see where the packed earth from the track resides between the stones. I wonder how they remove it the dirt. My guess is a backhoe, which the Italians seem to use for everything. Maybe one thousand “sweaty guys” on backhoes! The image cracks me up. That crazy Americana is laughing to herself again.

Ciao for now!

Increasing my Vocabulary

I arrived in Firenze yesterday afternoon and am out for an early morning walk, jet lag having taken control about 4am.

Unlike my visit in June, August is hot. Caldo, caldo, caldo. As I head out past Bar’Ucci in our little town of Volpaia, Gina and Lina greet me; Gina whips up my beloved cappuccino, and declares that I need a hat. I respond that I need some “colore”, and off they go…my professori. And the word for the day is ‘abbronzare’. To tan. Something I don’t do very well, but I repeat after them…”sono abbronzata”. I take off down the road, repeating my word for the day up and down the hills.

Make-up melts and runs down my neck as I walk to the bank in Castellina. But it’s not stopping the tourists. French, German, Japanese and Chinese this month. Funny how the nationalities shift around throughout the tourist season.

I spend the day meeting with real estate agencies, with a new twist. At the request of several clients, my company will be offering private tours designed to guide buyers through the intricacies of finding and purchasing a home in Italy. This is in addition to our fractional home business, but feels like a synergistic service considering our concierge staff already in place.

The real estate market is down, as in the U.S., and there are great deals to be had in this buyers market. But even brave souls with a passion for Italy need help, and that is what we plan to do. Give them an objective view, work only with reputable agencies and pre-screen houses, speak English, and make their house hunting trips less stressful, more fruitful. It’s supposed to be fun, after all.

I catch a wonderful photo on the way back to Volpaia, and once again have a conversation with myself about getting some professional training. But it’s nice to just be able to capture the beauty, even if it’s a mere snapshot. Back to Volpaia to sleep, and meet up with my colleague later this evening for dinner.

Ciao for now!