A magical week in Tuscany

Monday, 6/24

Today was a day of learning. This morning we met Carlotta at San Gregorio Farm.  From the barn, I heard and energetic Luciano calling out to my husband, “Buongiorno Gregorio!” as he stepped into his overalls to do some sort of “lavoro”(work).

We walked into Pienza for a brief history of the city and its surrounding areas. Carlotta talked of the formation of the valley from the rough crete (clay like soil) to the plowed fields and molded hills we see today.  It looks so natural it is hard to believe that the land was so shaped and manicured by man. Past the little church and down a hill at the side of town we toured the Romatorio. This property is owned by Carlo but it is an ancient site, so he can only maintain it. It is the remains of a hermitage, where monks would choose to live in solitude and pray, carved into the rocks are tombs and religious sculptures.  On the way back into town we got to hike through a lovely field with herbs growing wild and butterflies galore. We ate lunch at the La Buca di Enea in Pienza. Joyce had a big salad and they aren’t kidding when they say big, it had an entire 8 oz. ball of mozzarella on top of it! I had ravioli and Greg the mushroom tagliatelli.  Limoncello followed, gratis, as we were friends of Isabella.   

Another learning experience was our tour of the Fattoria del Colle winery.  Here we got to learn the history of this winery operated solely by women, a rarity in patriarchal Italy. We sampled the Brunello, one of the most famous wines in this region, a very bold and hearty wine.  Greg and I had visited this winery two years ago and were glad to see that Bonella, our sommelier, was still employed at the winery.  She was really impressed that Greg remembered talking to her about her love of the band, the Foo Fighters and showed us a tattoo on her ankle with the emblem of the band.  Aside from being an all-women run winery, they seem to employ bright young women who are both dynamic and hip. 

Our final lesson for the day was back at Cretaiole with Carlo.  Carlo is a professional oil taster from the province of Siena.  With Carlotta translating, Carlo explained the defects an oil can have, how to buy the best oil, how to read labels on olive oil and how to hone your personal taste in oil. We found that Ligurian oil, by the sea side, is milder while oil from this region tastes of fresh cut grass with bright spicy notes.  From the comfort and safety of the common room, whose benches and tables are surrounded by glass windows, we had watched the clouds roll in during our lesson, the weather was taking a very sudden turn for the worse.    Still a bit sore from running 5 kilometers up and down hills yesterday and with a storm brewing on the horizon.  I decide to just jog up to the next farmhouse over, about  a mile, I estimated.  Both mom and Greg warned me that it could pour at any moment and I shouldn’t go too far.  Indeed the charcoal grey clouds that gathered in the distance did seem ominous but there were some patches of blue still poking through in the east.  As I topped the hill, I was greeted by an immense and beautiful rainbow, a delightful site.  But as I approached the farm house, I saw the largest most distinct lightning strike I’ve ever seen.  I froze in my footsteps for a moment but ventured a bit closer to my destination.  A few seconds later and ear splitting clap of thunder forced me to turn tail and run home at a quicker pace. I even cut through the olive grove to get back faster.  Still the rain didn’t fall, but I found Greg and mom huddled together in the common room anxiously awaiting my return.  Luciano joined us and we talked about the weather (I learned the word for lightening is “fulmini”) and he gave us some eggs he had brought from his farm.  Our Italian was particularly slow and labored during our afternoon chat, so he pulled up a bench and said with a sigh (in Italian, of course), “I’m going to sit down while you think!”  He has a good sense of humor and is very patient with our language barrier.  We were still full from our lunch so a light dinner followed.  We sliced the apricots from our fruit basket and stuffed them with some of Luciano’s pecorino cheese.  Sprinkled the fruit with pepper, olive oil and red wine vinegar and a light sprinkling of fresh thyme.  The perfect appetizer I think, though I know the Italians would disagree, as we are learning fruit is only for dessert! 

Tonight, all the guests gathered in the common room around 10:00 pm awaiting the arrival of Luciano.  Greg was excited to find another guitarist among the guests so they could trade off with the musical entertainment, each sharing their favorite songs and expanding their repertoire in the process.  Luciano arrived with vino bianchi, vin santo, and grappa, as well as a giant plum crostata made by his wife Lilliana. We enjoyed the music, many guests sang along, Luciano and I had another dance and we retired back to our rooms around 1:00 in the morning.

Tuesday, 6/25

We slept late after the festa from last night.  The weather had cleared, though white billowy clouds were still strewn through the blue skies, rain no longer threatened.  I urged my travel companions to visit the hot springs with me today.  I have been fighting a cold since we began our trip last week and though I am mostly better, I am still prone to coughing fits at night.  I’ve read that the hot springs at Bagno Fillipi are supposed to help cure respiratory illness, skin problems, and basically whatever ails you.  After another beautiful drive through tiny towns and viewing the cypress lined lanes that lead to the villas, we were parking near a forested area.  A short hike down the hill landed us at the milky and sulfury waters of Bagno Fillipi, also known as Fasso Biancho or the White Whale due to the lime stone deposits dripping over the hill side in a hump-backed fashion.  We slipped off our street clothes and, clad in our bathing suits, we waded into the bubbling mineral waters.  Though occasionally stinky, the water did seem to have curative effects.  As we emerged, our skin was smooth and we felt relaxed.  Back on the farm, we showered to wash away the rotten egg smell and after cooking up some rottelli in a tomato basil sauce, another nap was in order. 

In the afternoon, we had a culture class with Carlotta where she talked a bit about the hand gestures that accompany Italian conversation and the order of dining courses in Italian culture, but mostly expressed her personal opinions about being Italian.  This was very interesting. We really appreciated her candor and individuality.  We felt like we got an inside view on politics from a passionate and intelligent woman.

I got Greg and Joyce to go along with me on my run today.  Okay, well they walked together along the path to the abandoned farm house, as I ran to the duck pond, but we all had a nice bit of exercise.  We have been doing so well with our food budget here because it seems we are still full from Rome and we still have many groceries in our kitchen and veggies from the garden.  Tonight we enjoyed some marinated summer squash in a sauce of olive oil and balsamic vinegar with shaved pecorino and bread crumbs with fresh basil.  Tomorrow Joyce and I have early morning plans, but Greg may sleep in.

Wednesday, 6/26

Today mom and I met our guide at 6:30 am. Yup, that’s right we signed up for the sunrise hike. One of the reasons for the hike being early is that they like to beat the heat, but it has been very mild weather and even cloudy at times, but none the less we started with the sun.  This is the perfect time to hear the sounds of the farm awakening, with the multitude of chirping and tweeting birds, the crowing of the rooster, and the occasional dog bark.  We found porcupine quills and beautiful vistas on our nearly 5 mile hike. I think some of the uphill stints may have been more than mom had bargained for.  Our seventy-something guide categorized the hike as easy, and though he’s had a hip replacement and is a cancer survivor, he kept a swift pace.  When we returned to the farm house around 9:30, we had breakfast and I took today’s first nap. 

We cruised into the hills for our light lunch and a cheese tasting. We had a charming farmer with Sardinian roots as our guide.  He gave us a comical but educational tour of the cheese making equipment and of course the highlight was our tasting.  For our “light lunch” there was bread, salad, salami and prosciutto, eight kinds of cheese (and three types of ricotta, which we learned is not a cheese at all as it is made from the whey).  We especially enjoyed the cheeses that were aged in hay and saffron.  

Upon or return, another nap was in order and I dreamt about being served slippery fish which were sliding all over and off of the dinner table, as we would be attending a special fish dinner in Pienza.  The owner of the ristorante visits the fishmonger on Wednesday morning and purchases fish based on how many reservations she has.  It was pouring rain as we headed into Pienza, so Greg dropped us off at the edge of town as he went to park.  Joyce and I wandered the streets of the historic center looking for ristorante Dal Falco with our jackets over our heads in a downpour.  Before we knew it Greg had joined us and we were no closer to finding the restaurant.  When we finally found it we were soaked and it was just on the opposite side of the street from where he had let us off.  Feeling foolish and wet, we tromped into the fine establishment leaving puddles as we went but were relieved when we saw our fellow Cretaioleans, a friendly family from North Carolina, at the reserved table.  They assured us though we were wet, we were among friends.  Soon wine warmed our bellies and conversation flowed.  We were delighted as the appetizers appeared.  We had about seven small offerings on our plates, a hot scallop in the shell with buttery bread crumbs, a saucy salad of crab, potato salad with octopus, crostini with peas and squid (to be honest I can’t remember all the creative antipasto that was plated before us)... On to the pasta, prima piata, first course.   We had spaghetti with clams and mussels and an amazing crab risotto.  Then the secondi, shrimp and calamri fritto (fried) and a broiled white fish with beautifully sautéed potato slices.  A light lemon sorbet ended our meal and by the time we had our café the rain let up so that we could walk back to our car and drive back to the farm house in peace.  A knock on the door told Greg that Luciano would be waiting in the common room.  Grappa is always a good way to help digest a rich meal of so many courses, and though Joyce and I opted to crawl into warm and dry pajamas, Greg joined a small group of ‘the guys’ for sip of this spirit and some quiet conversation before bed time.

Thursday, 6/27

We slept in late, as we had no activities scheduled for the morning.  We decided to drive to the nearby town of Montepulciano for an impromptu wine tasting and to do some window shopping.  We enjoyed picking out trinkets in the quaint shops of this hill town and tried their famous vino nobile at an enoteca.  The views of the surrounding valley from this hill town were breathtaking.  After grabbing a few panini to go, we were on our way back to Cretaiole to prepare for the Pici dinner.  I decided to bring a salad prepared from ingredients in Luciano’s vegetable patch to donate to the pasta dinner.  On my way out to the vegetable patch, I got sidetracked when Jenna, a preteen guest heralding from North Carolina, chirped that she was going to grab some water for one of the farmyard cats.  Mama cat was in the process of delivering kittens!  I’ve seen my fair share of biology videos, but I had never seen a live birth of any type.  I set down my vegetable picking basket and spotted  mama cat, who we had affectionately been calling “Preggo” all week. She was hunkered down in a raised flower planter in the blaring sun, panting and contracting her little kitty tummy.  One tiny kitten was already trying to nurse and another was on the way.  In fact, we watched mama kitty deliver a total of four kittens!  Jenna stood blocking the sun for mama, so she wouldn’t be to hot and other young girls gathered with their mothers and fathers to watch the event. When the girls were concerned as one of the kitties seemed to be slipping behind the planter, Greg came to the rescue, scooping up the slimy creature and placing her on mama’s belly.  Those of you who know about Greg’s dislike for messes might be surprised, but Greg got the nickname, Dr. Greg for the rest of the day.  

Amidst all this excitement, preparations for the Pici dinner were taking place.  Pici, pronounced like peachy, is a type of pasta that is traditional in this area, it is like a chubby version of spaghetti.  Isabella returned to the farm today,  just in time to teach us how to make this traditional dish, along with the help of Carlotta.  First the dough was mixed, simply water, flour, and eggs, with just a touch of olive oil.  The dough has to be massaged and shaped into a ball.  Then the pasta strands get rolled out by hand.  The process takes many hands and lots of patience from our teachers.  When the pasta is finished, Isabella takes it away to boil it.  The dinner begins with ample wine and Carlo passing around crostini grilled over a wood fire and rubbed with garlic and olive oil.  Our homemade pasta is the first course, with a ragu for meat eaters and pesto for the vegetarians.  Next the salads come out, Luciano can’t stand to see anyone eating pasta with their salad, this is not the traditional Tuscan order, so the pasta plates are cleared before the bean salad, green salads and more circulate around the long tables.  Then comes the pork ribs, steaks and sausages Carlo has cooked over the wood fire.  The table is cleared yet again, then Luciano circulates with the pecorino and fruit and dessert is brought out.  Finally after dinner drinks such as Vin Santo and Grappa make the rounds.  Greg takes this as his cue to grab the guitar from the corner and again the evening ends with singing and celebration.

Friday, 6/28

Our last full day at Cretaiole, we slept in a bit but did go into Pienza in the morning to shop and visit the Maria church.  Beautiful gold leaf and hand carved confessionals adorn the interior.  It’s vast open space and stone arches create amazing acoustics and Greg hums out a few notes to show off the non-visual qualities of the architecture.  Our lunch plans for the day consisted of visiting and organic farm for a vegetarian lunch.  As we drove the back roads to Podere Il Casale we found storm clouds gathering again.  When we arrived on the farm our car was chased by two very friendly, small and nimble donkeys.  We also saw peacocks, cats, pigs, sheep, dogs, chickens, and goats. As we approached the main house we saw Sandra, who we remember from our visit two years ago, rushing into the house with table cloths and place settings. “We will be moving lunch inside,” she announced and not a moment too soon, the sky erupted with thunder and lightning.  Just as we ducked into the dining area, a torrent of rain began to fall.  Safely warm and dry inside we enjoyed watching the hail and rain bathe the farm as a parade of delicious food was brought out to us.  A green salad, tomatoes with feta, ricotta  (made that morning), goat cheese with peppercorns, asparagus in a cream sauce, spelt salad and bread, steamed chard and potatoes, sautéed onion and cabbage, a frittata, and of course fresh pasta in a spicy tomato sauce with capers.  We were in vegetable lovers heaven!  Then came the cheese course, four types of cheese made from the raw milk of the animals at the farm; a fresh sheep’s cheese, a semi aged, a drunken cheese (aged in fermented grapes), and a semi-aged goat cheese, all served with a chestnut honey.  Finally, a piece of chestnut cake and espresso.  As we finished our plates, the sky dried up and we made it back to our car dry and happy.  

On our way back to the farm we followed the signs to the cimitario.  Luciano had teased that if we ever came back for another vacation and he wasn’t there, we could visit him in the cemetery.  Not funny, Luciano!  But it did get us curious about what the cemetery just outside of Pienza was like.  It truly is a beautiful place, through stone archways the plots are planted with flowering plants of all types and smiling pictures of the inhabitants grace each headstone. The mausoleums have rolling library ladders attached so that guests can climb the steps to their loved one’s niche and deposit fresh flowers regularly.  It seemed a charming spot to spend eternity.  Back on the farm, I convinced Greg to join me on my final jog.  We went 3 km past the empty villa to the currently vacant duck pond.  We did flush out two pheasants from the tall fox tails during our run, which pleased me as it seemed to symbolize that I was side by side with my mate, just like the pheasants who we frightened into flight.  We arranged to meet with Carlo and pay our bill, so we could depart early in the morning.  As with any encounter with the Moricianni family it was a pleasant exchange during which Greg got a lesson on counting in Italian and we discussed upcoming birthdays.  Greg will turn 37 in a few days and Carlo is turning 46 this year. 

Our dinner consisted of marinated eggplant from the garden and the rest of our pantry pasta tossed in truffle oil with some ricotta cheese we purchased during our cheese tasting the other day.  We’ve eaten almost all the generous groceries that stocked our apartment with the exception of some breakfast items that we’ll finish off in the morning and some cookies and apples.  I decided to make our leftovers into a dolce we could share with our friends at our last evening festa.  I peeled and cooked the apples with a little sugar, honey, and cinnamon and placed this apple pie filling in a bowl surrounded with cookies and a dollup of ricotta.  I call it no-bake Italian style apple pie.   Luciano also brought a peach focaccia that Lilliana had baked.  The deserts worked well together and both were enjoyed during our final night of music with friends.  It was an early night though, as everyone had to prepare to move on to our next destinations in the morning.