Before I’ve even written the first word of this post, my OCD brain is trying to figure out if this post should be categorized under the “Food” or the “Travel” sections of the blog. I will be taking you along with us on our travel adventure to go eat some of Italy’s best food. It’s quite the dilemma…
A selection of salumi (cold cuts), formaggi (cheese) and the cinghiale (boar) that gave his life to the cause
You may have read about part of our visit with Aunt Deb and Uncle S where we ventured into the wine region of Piemonte during the first portion of their visit. Their two week sojourn in Italy included a mission to explore the best of what the country has to give. It was no coincidence then, that their adventure had been neatly divided into three of the country’s best offerings. Part I was Vino (wine). Party II was Cibo (food) – the subject of today’s post. Lastly, Part III was Storia (history). Since they experienced the rich history of Pompeii and Venezia on their own, I will let them tell you all about it at their next dinner party. I’ll simply report on the parts during which we were present… and luckily for us, we were present for a three day trip into Italy’s richest “food region”, Emilia-Romagna.
“Now I’m hungry – let’s eat!”
I always laugh when I speak to Italians about their trips to the United States. Before they even tell me, I know that they’ve been to New York City and then Miami (bypassing Washington DC; a detail they don’t want to admit but one that I always extract). If they’re fortunate enough to have a lengthy stay, they will then travel to Las Vegas on their way to Los Angeles. Occasionally, they may venture up the coast to San Francisco before returning home. That’s it. Every. Single. Time. Heck, I don’t blame them – they were raised in large part on American cinema, and that’s what most Europeans see as the sum total of the United States – New York and LA. And of course, who wouldn’t want to throw a trip to Vegas in the mix?! Likewise – it is the same for Americans coming here. Where do we go? Rome. Milan. Venice. Tuscany (Florence and Pisa) and occasionally the Italian Riviera if there’s time. But there is so much of this country that is left undiscovered (I feel like we travel non-stop and we still haven’t gotten a flavor of more than 10% of Italy). One region in particular that is largely overlooked is Emilia-Romagna. Heck, I’m willing to bet you probably haven’t even heard of it! But there are a few things that I know you know. You’ve heard of Ferrari, Lamborghini and Maserati. They’re all produced here, in Emilia-Romagna. Or aged balsamicvinegar? That also comes from here, in Modena. What about parmigiano reggiano (parmesan cheese)? Or prosciutto? I’d be wiling to bet that you’ve even heard of Ferrara chocolate. With culinary delights like these, it’s no wonder that Emilia-Romagna is often considered the “heart” of Italian cuisine.
Vineyards in Emilia-Romagna
S studies the frame of his photograph
The colors at this time of year were stunning
Julia takes a stroll and soaks up all that Emilia-Romagna has to offer
On our first day, we stopped in Parma (of Proscuitto di Parma fame) to begin our culinary escapade. We started small – just panini (sandwiches) at the most popular sandwich place in northern Italy, Pepèn. I was not at all surprised to learn that this tiny shop that has been around for over 200 years does not have a website. I think that they figured out the perfect panino (sandwich) somewhere in the past 100 years and have unabashedly decided not to change a thing since (earning them a #1 rating out of 430 restaurants reviewed on TripAdvisor – although calling it a “restaurant” is a stretch). Uncle S and I crowded into the tiny restaurant and I told the sandwich maestro to give us a mixture of some of his favorite concoctions. We awoke our taste buds with succulent porchetta, life-changing salsiccia crudo (raw sausage) and mind-altering gamberi piccanti (spicy shrimp) – all on perfectly toasted buns (these were just some examples of our sandwiches – we got many more to share). Since the place doesn’t really have any seats, we camped out on the steps of Chiesa Cattolica Parrocchiale San Pietro (St. Peter’s Catholic Church Parish) in Piazza Garibaldi Giuseppe to enjoy our delectable treats.
Pepèn is hidden on a small side street – you have to know where you’re going to get there
These two guys have been making panini in this crowded little shop for many years
One package of our delicious panini
We camped out on the stairs of the church to eat our lunch
Julia escorts Deborah and me into the Cattedrale di Parma
Amazing frescoes adorned every single wall in the church
The paintings on the wall were so lifelike I was mesmerized
The ceiling amazed all of us inside the Cathedral
The Baptistery of Parma, commissioned in 1196 by the city counsel of Parma
After a complete and rewarding day in Parma, we drove the forty five minutes to our B&B, just outside of Modena. After researching for many hours, we had booked a stay at, Locanda Gli Ulivi because it was centrally located to the places we would be visiting and has a wonderful online presence (great reviews and photos across our most reliable travel websites). We were not disappointed with the place – it was simply wonderful. Since we were weary road warriors on that first day, we decided to eat at the hotel’s restaurant, Osteria Clo ‘Filomena that night. Since the food was so wonderful and I was able to capture a picture of each course, I’ll complete a separate post about that meal.
Locanda Gli Ulivi
“Come on in…”
Our backyard
The pool
A nice place for a picnic
View from immediately across the room
Same place, looking to the right
An olive tree at night inside the property
An old church across the street, lit up by the purple sky of early evening
The next day, we departed with our sights on the largest city and capital of Emilia-Romagna, Bologna. To most Americans, bologna is a processed meat (that you either love or hate) sandwiched between two pieces of good ol’ fashioned white bread. In the States, we named “our” bologna after the city that is a major producer of mortadella – a staple meat of Bologna (and very similar – but much, much tastier than “our” bologna). My bologna has a first-name, and it’s…”send this back and bring me a slice of mortadella, please!”. To most Europeans, Bologna is much more than just a processed meat. It is a university town. Home to the oldest university in the world, University of Bologna, founded in 1088. Today, the university accepts students from all over the world – eager to complete a full program, or just a study abroad in the seventh most populated city in Italy. We walked around all day, stopping for a wonderful lunch at Cesari – a selection from S and Deb’s Fodor’s guidebook. The gang at Fodor’s know what they’re doing, it was a wonderful place.
Cesari was as delicious as it was charming
“Hey… we recognize that wine”
(from a tasting we did at Cantina di Borgogno a few days earlier)
We spent more time walking though this historically significant and important city, before ducking into a building with a much more modern vibe. Eataly is the brainchild of Oscar Farinetti; a store that is a proud Italian marketplace, selling the best ingredients and offering access to goods that are otherwise hard to acquire on a massive scale (imagine a Whole Foods on steroids that just sells Italian products). Even though Oscar opened his flagship 30,000 sq. ft store in Torino in 2007, the company really took off with locations around the world (including New York City) when B&B Hospitality Group (Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich) became a partner. Admittedly, the Bologna location was very underwhelming in size and scale (especially compared to the unique Torino store) – but we were still able to acquire some wonderful salumi (variety of cured meats) and formaggi (cheeses). That night, we procured reservations at the the most exclusive table in all of Italy – we had a little picnic in S and Deb’s room.
A statue stands near the University of Bologna
Julia becomes taken with a small group of performers
She takes a shot at playing – she started with some Mozart
Julia made a friend in the main piazza
Inside Eataly, our friend helps us select the best meats and cheeses for our picnic
S takes his job selecting for the group very seriously. Good thing he did, we had a wonderful meal
He cuts us a hard cheese
After our visit to Eataly, we needed a little coffee
I just thought this window was interesting
As well as this ancient building
The table is set
Our salumi (meats)
S and Deb are about to dig in with us
Our final day in Emilia-Romagna was no less packed with activities than the first two. We had scheduled a visit to the Museo di Ferrari (Ferrari Museum), exploration of Modena (with a stop for lunch) and a balsamic vinegar tasting. Car enthusiasts the world over can appreciate a visit to the “mecca of all things automotive”. This is what Modena can offer you – Ferrari and Maserati all have their factories within a few kilometers of the city (Lamborghini moved their headquarters from Modena to Bologna). Ferrari chose to name one of their models after the city itself (Ferrari Modena 360). We chose to learn a little bit about the legacy of Enzo Ferrari himself, one of the world’s truest visionaries. The museum did not disappoint….
Museo Ferrari in Maranello
“Welcome to paradise!”
An old Ferrari 166 F2
This classic symbol is at the heart of most men’s desires
1966 Ferarri 330 P3
1954 Ferrari 750 Monza
F1 Constructors’
Formula 1 World Champion 2008
Julia and I sure felt like champions
The heart that powers the machine
2013 Ferrari 458 Speciale
These babies can grip – Pirelli is the tire of race professionals
Concept car of the future
This is a clay model – what they use to construct a concept in the early stages of development
After soaking up all things, Ferrari – I drove us (albeit, much slower than a Ferrari could have gone) to the center of Modena. The town itself is a wonderful place, certainly worthy of a daily visit. It is believed that the city was already in existence by the 3rd century. Here in the 21st century, we lucked out and caught an open air market in the center of town. We were also treated to a marching band that passed us twice as we strolled through the city.
Main piazza in Modena – a street fair had been set up
Julia runs through the city
The streets of Modena were beautiful
S and Julia sit by their new friend
Meanwhile, these two are deep frying pig skins
Crispy, delicious and probably 130% fattening
S bought some prune jam – here he is bottling the jar for S
A marching band happened to pass through as we were in the market
Walking through the city again – there are a lot of pedestrian streets in Modena
Family photo
We ran into the marching band a second time
The day passed by [too] quickly and we had to bid a fond farewell to Modena – we had an important event coming up later that afternoon. A tasting at one of Modena’s finest producers of aged balsamic vinegar – Acetaia Villa San Donnino. Since it was such a fun and noteworthy event, I will post about it separately. After our trip back from Emilia-Romagna, S and Deborah took off for Pompeii and just a few days later, we were hugging our goodbyes. It’s amazing how quickly time time goes when you are filling it with great food and wine!
We recently had the most amazing vacation aboard Holland America’s Nieuw Amsterdam and I have had a wonderful time writing about it. I have discovered even more about each destination as I’ve researched them further and I have had the pleasure of reliving it all over again as I post the pictures. I hope that you’ve enjoyed your time aboard with us. Sadly, I will close this chapter of our overseas adventure and move onto the next story in an upcoming post. There is still plenty more to come in the blog pipeline…
“Dad, wrap this up already – you’re putting us all to sleep!”
If you joined us thus far, you’ll know we visited Venice, Olympia and Athens in our first post and then Istanbul and Lesbos in the second post. The final leg of our cruise transports us to Kuşadası, Santorini and Argostoli. As always, we’ll include some of our shipboard life and hopefully you’ll be able to stick with me – I’ve got a ton of pictures in this final post.
When I last left you, we were sailing away from the Greek island of Lesbos and I was getting knocked out of a blackjack tournament final table with some unlucky cards. The only thing that could wash away that feeling of despair was some spiritual enlightenment. Sure, they have a chapel aboard the ship – but I think strolling directly from the casino into the chapel is the sort of thing that the Big Guy frowns upon, so I waited for our port the following day.
We woke up in Kuşadası, Turkey – a beautiful resort town on the Aegean coast; wonderful in it’s own right, but not our intended destination. We were set to visit, Ephesus – an ancient city with a plethora of historic treasures. There are two main spectacles to behold within the vicinity of Ephesus – the Ancient City itself and the House of the Virgin Mary. Since the terrain was difficult to access and far from the ship, we hired a private driver to bring us to the notable sites. We first started with the House of the Virgin Mary, arriving fairly early in the morning. This small home was said to be the final home and final resting place of the Virgin Mary, carried here to live out her final days by St. John, the Apostle. Our early arrival time did little to help put us in a tolerable position in the queue (yes, I just “British’d” it up). The house is both a Catholic and Muslim shrine (so… um, yeah – number one and two religions in term of size). Given that fact, the line would normally be long – but we happened to arrive on the most “holy” of days. The annual pilgrimage to the House of the Virgin Mary coincided with our visit and threatened to consume our entire day along with the thousands of other visitors cramming in to see a tiny house.
Jen and Julia in front of the House of the Virgin Mary
A bronze statue of the Virgin Mary welcomes all visitors
As spiritually enlightening as seeing a 150 sq. foot home could be (admittedly, this was more my wife’s gig than mine), I was not thrilled at the prospect of standing in line under the hot sun all day. I saw an alternative option and struck with military precision when the time was right. First, I set out on a reconnaissance mission to scout additional routes for people with strollers. Coming up empty handed in that department, I formulated a plan. When I returned to Jen and Julia standing in line, I uttered the following words verbatim; “follow me, don’t ask any questions, don’t stall and keep up with my pace”. You see, my wife is a perpetual “rule follower” and I am a habitual “rule breaker”. Her innocence often thwarts my plans for easy advancement – but I think she was on board this time; moving at a snails pace under a hot Turkish sun will cause any mother to want to move! We whisked past the crowds, through an outdoor church service and out the other end to a gate immediately in front of the house. It certainly helped that I was pushing a baby stroller and can dish a kind smile that I reserve for occasions like these. My little stunt saved us an estimated three hours (no exaggeration). Jen was pleased with my shenanigans for once… now maybe I can convince her to come over to the dark side.
Just a portion of the long line that was making the annual pilgrimage to see the house
Mary would not approve of my behavior – I did have a baby to worry about though
Jen lights a candle to ask forgiveness for my shenangins
Our next stop was the the Ancient City of Ephesus. Artifacts excavated on site have proved that there were inhabitants in this area as far back as the Neolithic Age (6,000 BC), with consistent development throughout the Bronze Age and into the Archaic Period, when the city really began to prosper (650 BC). The city changed from Greek to Roman and finally into Turkish domain in 1304. Today, archeologists are constantly amazed by the plethora of treasures being discovered on a continual basis. The prevailing theory is that they have only unearthed a fraction of the city (a lot of major discoveries were made as recently as the 1970’s), but limited funds have slowed down excavation and restoration efforts. Some of the more notable discoveries are the Temple of Artemis, which is one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World and the Library of Celsus, which appeared on the Turkish Lira between 2001 and 2009.
We passed this large Virgin Mary on the way to the Ancient City
Standing next to the Basilica Stoa
Julia decides to lead the tour for our little group
“Peekaboo!”
“Look at me!”
The Bouleuterion (100 AD) housed the meetings of the council
Julia and I hiked all the way to the top of the Bouleuterion
Street lined with archeological excavations
The Temple of Domitian (81 AD)
The Curetes Street – a main boulevard prestigiously equipped with marble paving and home to many boutiques
The Deep Traveler statue recovered in 2013 dates back to 1980 – Jen’s favorite piece
The Trajan Fountain (102 AD)
The Temple of Hadrian (138 AD) – one of the most stunning ruins along the Curetes Street
We discovered a seldom seen gem, the Latriana
Public latrines where residents would literally sit cheek to cheek
Family photo in front of the Celsus Library
Tiberius Julius Aquila commissioned the Celsus Library (110 AD) as a mausoleum for his father
Column base with writing from Ancient Greek times
A market enclosed the exit gate of the ancient city – I happened to love this guy’s honesty
The next stop on our cruise was the port I was most excited about above all our other destinations – Santorini, Greece. Images of white homes with blue trim overlooking the Aegean danced in my head all night. Our wonderful Cruise Director, Anthony and Location Guide, Tom would televise a show about each port prior to our arrival. Through this in-room broadcast, I learned that Santorini (Σαντορίνη) sits perched high atop a cliff, with three ways to ascend. You can traverse the vertical 260 meters (853 feet) by climbing a difficult 580 steps (not ideal for couples with strollers) or you could opt to take the cable car for a fast and scenic arrival. Finally, you can chose to climb the absolute best way possible – by donkey!! Believe me, it was not easy to sell this option to Jen – but I never take “no” for an answer. We had an absolute blast climbing, laughing and trying not to fall off. I don’t think Julia has ever had so much fun in her life and I haven’t laughed quite so hard as I did to the shrieks of pure terror coming from Jen. The donkeys climb the pathway unassisted and will [at times] pin you against a wall while they wait for the overcrowding of ascending and descending donkeys to clear. All in all – a wonderful experience.
“eehh-aaaww!”
“You want me to carry you AND you’re baby?!”
The guide helps us on – that was the last we saw of him, this donkey was on autopilot
And w’ere off
Julia wanted to take a turn on her own
Santorini is an island unlike any we’ve ever seen. First of all, the entire complex of islands was formed by a volcanic eruption over 60 million years ago. The city today is essentially what remains after a more recent volcanic explosion in the modern age (this area is the most active volcanic area in the South Volcanic Aegean Arc). Santorini is financially supported by the bustling tourism industry; not surprising as ours was one of three cruise ships waiting patiently off shore for the tenders to bring passengers back and forth. In fact, Santorini was the only port to provide their own tenders – much larger boats than any cruise ship could provide in order to bring more people ashore quickly. It is actually quite smart of them to recognize that opportunity.
Horsing around with daddy
And then mommy
The blue ocean was simply magnificent
Julia is kind enough to share her drink with me
As well as her mother
This guy was selling freshly caught lobsters – look at the size of those beauties
Family photo
My two girls
Santorini
“I love this place!”
The blue domed churches were exactly what I envisioned
Some of the resorts offered stunning views – of all our ports, we want to come back to Santorini the most
A city unlike any other
I thought this was a great “artistic” shot – I was later validated when I saw this image in a travel magazine
From Homer’s Odyssey?
Here you can really get a sense of the volcanic caldera upon which the city was built
The white houses and blue domed roofs were just as promised
Climbing up a portion of the volcano – just off the beaten path
Jen covers Julia from the sun
#HollandAmerica would have these amazing reception areas at every port before re-boarding the ship
Sailing away gave you a true sense of the grandeur of the island
After Santorini, we saw the end of our cruise approaching quickly. I think we both somewhat dismissed our final destination, since neither of us had heard of Argostoli, Greece (in fact, when we woke up at port Jen proclaimed, “Oh! We have another stop?!”). Quietly dismissing Argostoli (Αργοστόλι) as, “just another stop” was foolish since it turned out to be one of the most pleasant days we experienced. The island is one of the larger of Greek Isles and was has the pleasure of hosting gorgeous beaches.
Family photo in front of the aqua-green waters of Argostoli
We passed through a brief section of woods before arriving at the beach
The beach opened before us like a butterfly spreading it’s wings for the first time (too much??)
You can never go wrong when you can rent straw beach umbrellas for the day
There were tons of people in the warm water
When we pulled away from Argostoli, we had one final “formal night” aboard the ship. Holland America went all out for this final night and served lobster tails and filet mignon in many of the ship’s restaurants.
Family photo in the Manhattan Dining Room on the formal night
Jen and Julia get ready for their meals
We started with foie gras
We each ordered surf and turf
The last day aboard was a sea day and so the world was our oyster. As always, there were plenty of activities to keep us entertained. One activity in particular caught my eye – a behind the scenes tour of the Nieuw Amsterdam’s amazing kitchen. We got to walk through their massive, industrial kitchen and I learned a few interesting facts about our ship. A kitchen crew of 150 individuals prepare food for 223 service staff to serve the guests each day. Each week 11,830 lbs of meat is consumed aboard the ship. A fact that I thought was staggering until I learned that 1,675 lbs of butter is also consumed each week (yuck – heart attack)! The tour was wonderful and the crew gave Julia one of their display crabs made from cooked bread dough.
The Executive Chef, Daniel Hergic poses with two of his chefs
A display of some of their finer beef and lamb
The form of their “bread-animal” displays before they were cooked
And then the final product. Julia got to keep the crab (the missing gap in the middle)
Included in the cost of most cruises is unlimited food at a variety of restaurants (casual dining, poolside dining, room service and the main dining rooms). Many cruise ships also offer the option to pay a nominal fee for more specialized dining (usually between $15 – $35/pp). On our previous cruise, Norwegian Cruise Line had a Japanese steak house complete with hibachi show. On our last day aboard the Nieuw Amsterdam, we decided to try two of the three specialized restaurants. We had a lunch of dim-sum in the Tamarind Restaurant, an upscale Asian specialty restaurant and then finish our cruise with a celebratory dinner at the Pinnacle Grill, a five-star steakhouse. Our last dinner was made even more special when the casino sent a bottle of wine to our room prior to dinner and then another one to the table as we dined! What a wonderful way to cap off the most amazing vacation of our lives.
We started with a hot and sour soup
Asian Herb Szechuan Sesame Salad
Steamed classic dumplings and a mixture of items from the wok, paired with fried rice
Later that night, at the Pinnacle Grill…
Jen started with a lobster bisque made tableside
Lobster bisque with crème fraîche and aged cognac
My caesar salad with homemade dressing, grated parmesan cheese, garlic croutons and anchovies, prepared tableside
My porterhouse with horseradish-mustard and master chef’s green peppercorn on the side
Jen ordered the lobster tail on a bed of wilted spinach and arugula, with “mango-churri” pesto sauce
Julia thanks Captain Edward G. van Zaane
Thank you Holland America for hosting us and thank you for reading all about it!
I don’t know anyone in their thirties that really goes around saying, “I’m Greek” because he or she was in a fraternity or sorority – but it was certainly fun to be a part of Greek Life during college. Jennifer and I were both “Greeks” while we attended Virginia Tech together and we each established lifelong friendships that have opened world’s of opportunities.
Lauren and Jen in front of Lake Garda
One of Jen’s sorority sisters, Lauren recently came to visit – and they instantly fell into their old college routine. We welcomed Lauren at the train station; she was arriving from Switzerland having visited another friend living abroad. We went to downtown Como and had a nice dinner, before enjoying a few drinks in the piazza while a live band entertained us.
We took an opportunity to visit, Lake Garda, the largest lake in all of Italy. There is an amazing town on Lake Garda called, Sirmione. What will strike you most about the town; apart from it’s beautiful castle, hip “beach vibe” and amazing architecture – is that the water shimmers a pure aqua-marine blue, as if you’re been transported to Caribbean waters in the middle of Italy. The lake was formed by glaciers at the end of the last ice age, perhaps contributing to the unique color of the water.
The shores of Sirmione on Lake Garda
Family photo
Sirmione is certainly a wonderful place to own a boat
The history of Sirmione is quite rich – traces of civilization date all the way back to the 5th century BC. As early as the 1st century AD, the town became a favorite resort place for families from Verona (the closest major city). I would imagine a vacation home back then would be a place you’d spend an entire summer (or longer) since I would assume it would take quite some time to reach the lake from Verona (horses can only go so fast). I suppose nothing much has changed over the last 2,000 years – the rich and fabulous still snatch up the choicest water-front property for their personal playgrounds.
The medieval village stretches across a long peninsula
Sirmione has a stunning roofline
The village’s beauty is framed behind the natural beauty of trees, mountains and the lake
We loved this home inside the town
Lauren poses with me and Julia
We had an incredible lunch lake-side and then drove into the ancient Roman city. One of the main sites and a most impressive examples of fortification, is the Scaliger Castle. We spent hours walking around, stopping only for pictures and the required coffee and gelato pitstops.
The front of our restaurant
And out back, Julia takes a stroll
Julia took this picture of Lauren at lunch – apart from the partial finger over the lens, it’s pretty good!
Scaliger Castle sits as an imposing fortification in front of the ancient city
Restaurants and shops line the castles moat
A good place for a “selfie”
The castle as well as the only entry-way into the ancient city
“Cheese”
The drawbridge had been lowered
I would love to know the story behind this
The castle has it’s own marina protected by a large, fortified wall
Lauren walks along the castle’s walls
Julia tries to climb the drawbridge
Jen and Lauren stop for a picture
Another day, we visited Lecco a major lake town along our Lake Como. If you can picture the lake as a pair of legs, Como is the left “foot” while Lecco is the right “foot”. In fact, people in the town of Lecco often refer to the lake as, Lake Lecco. Of course, we all know that’s not the case – but it’s a beautiful town nonetheless.
The mountains in Lecco are quite striking
Sailboats back from a beautiful day on the water
Lauren and I take our picture in front of the lake
We loved having Lauren visit and enjoyed seeing a new part of Italy ourselves.
When our friends, Nathan and Danielle had come to visit this past spring – Danielle pointed at a unique outdoor-oven-with-a-chimney-thingy in a neighbors yard and asked what it was. I replied with all the confidence in the world that it was an Italian-style BBQ, but in reality I wasn’t positive. I had seen the smoke billowing through the chimney and I had seen many of these things in other neighbors yards – but I had never inquired about it. I asked my “go-to guy for all things Italian”… Jen’s uncle, Franco. He confirmed that it was in fact a BBQ and a fairly typical one in Italy. So, my educated guess was right. Whew!
Classic Italian style outdoor grill
I noticed shortly thereafter that the typical gas Weber grills we’re accustomed to using in the States are non-existent here. In fact, it’s possible you may see a round charcoal grill – but more often than not, it’s one of these large, permanent fixtures that people use to grill.
Jen may rule the kitchen around here, but I’ve always loved to rock the grill! As soon as I learned of this wonderful outdoor oven (it’s really more of a wood burning oven, than a simple grill) I knew that we absolutely needed one. However, we live in a condo with other families and we needed everyone’s approval before one of these beauties could bask in our communal yard. Franco became the champion of the project and pitched it at the very next board meeting. The grill got a unanimous vote and so when Jen’s parents were here visiting, we went to acquire the grill.
Franco, Dominic and Gianfranco discuss the various merits of certain grills with the clerk
Once again, I learned that things that are usually simple in the States (i.e. buying a car or procuring cell phones) is not necessarily the case in Italy. Buying a grill requires many visits to the store, many discussions, lots of construction and many more discussions. I was a little taken aback when Franco picked up cement and outdoor paint, realizing this was going to be a much bigger project than I originally expected.
Collaborating on the best way to load the grill into the truck
After our second or third visit to the hardware store, Dominic purchased the grill and we loaded it onto a friend’s truck. He helped us deliver it to the building and we carried the unbelievably heavy grill, piece by piece into the yard. A week or so into the project and we were only marginally complete. The grill lay disassembled, piles of cement and stone until we all returned from a quick jaunt to Scotland. By the time I was finally able to roll up my sleeves and start slinging cinder blocks – Jen’s parents had boarded a plane bound for the States. Sadly, Dominic never got to enjoy the BBQ that he helped acquire. That certainly didn’t stop his brother, Franco from encouraging me to send him images of our first festa (party). Brothers will be brothers!
Construction begins
Stefano helps mix the cement as Franco and I set the frame
Stage One complete!
Claudia scolds me in Italian for dunking Julia’s head
Julia thought this was the funniest thing
Julia wanted to help
We place the final piece
And we’re done! Our new grill is complete
My beautiful baby
The first party we had was a blast. Our neighbors below are from Naples – and boy, do they know how to party. They had extended family show up and bring delectable treats with them. I was pushed away from the grill as Aurelia and her husband, Stefano took over. As I watched a jaw-dropping amount of meat depart the grill – I was glad I had been sent to the sidelines. I know now that I was out of my depth. We feasted on pork ribs, beef ribs, lamb, porchetta, speck and various types of salsiccia (sausage). Our waistlines thanked us for the grilled vegetables – eggplant, zucchini, peppers and more. We devoured homemade salumi and cheeses that kept appearing each time I turned around. Of course, the cheeses were from all over Italy (“this is from Veneto… aged 24 months” or “my grandmother made this in Napoli… it stayed under ground for 36 months”). Hours later, the desserts (insert image of the best homemade tiramisu’s I’ve ever had) and then the coffee appeared. This was quickly followed by round after round of grappa (homemade, of course). All this – and it was just a first of many parties!
Franco shows me how it’s done
This was the first image that I sent to Dominic – I still feel guilty, but Franco and I got a kick out of it
Our first festa went late into the night
Since then, we’ve had many more outdoor parties – including a pizza party, where all the Napolitane baked their own bread and made pizza from scratch.
Setting the table
Now the food has arrived
All different types of homemade pizza
Various types of homemade cheeses from Napoli
Stefano got a mini-keg of beer
Aurelia teasing us for taking so many photos
The food was delicious
Cousins and nieces and nephews. Neighbors and friends – the best kind of pizza party
This seemed to be the easiest way to transport all the grappa
When my parents were here visiting, we decided it was another good time for a BBQ.
Everyone gathers around, doing various tasks
Julia plays a little calico (soccer)
Stefano gets a few lookey-loo’s while grilling (including my dad, who couldn’t understand a word being said)
Beef ribs get a nice sear while the charcoals glow beautifully
Jen’s cousins, Franco and Claudia and my parents
Aurelia telling me “smettere” (stop) with the photos. Her sister Angelina shows me the meat
The pot kept getting magically refilled with grilled meat before it was ever emptied
Everyone digs in
Julia was certainly no exception
Another late party
Another time, we wanted to bring all the family together and so all of Jen’s cousins came for a festa.
The younger generation of cousins pose together
I’ve used the grill for a simple meal for the five of us (myself, Jen and Julia along with Franco and Claudia) and not to be outdone by any Italians – I got about three times more meat than necessary.
Would you eat an entire picante peperoncino – Franco shows us how it’s done
All told, we’ve had a wonderful grilling season and while I’m anxious for the fall and then winter – I’m already looking forward to the time when I can dust off the ol’ tongs and have another Italian-style BBQ!
I’ve always been amazed by my father’s dad, even though I have very few memories spending time with him. My “Poppy” was a career photographer for National Geographic. He was born before the turn of the century (February 24, 1898… have you ever known anyone from the 1800’s?!) in a rural town in Delaware that even today only boasts a few hundred residents. He raised his family in Washington DC and got to travel the world for his work (long before traveling the world was something you actually did). These are all things that I find particularly fascinating and I have discovered we even have a few parallels in our lives. Except, he was a rather short man and I’m basically what you call basketball height (5’9″ is about the tallest you’ll see on the court, right?).
A scene along Lago di Maggiore
Of all those attributes, his long-standing career with National Geographic is probably the most interesting to me (and one I’m happy to brag about). On a whim one day (several years ago), my sister-in-law, Jessica googled his name and was surprised at the results. Over 400 of his images appeared on websites like art.com and others (I’m still researching how I can lay claim to the royalties… lawyers feel free to message me). Jessica conspired with Jen and they surprised me with an huge print of one of his 1950’s Washington DC images (I was living downtown at the time). Since Jen’s parents, Dominic and Diane had just purchased their condo in the Lake Como, Jessica and Diane also purchased one of his more famous 1950’s lake images in order to surprise me twice, as well as Jen. When the gifts were presented, my dad, beaming with pride ran out of the room for a moment and came back with the two original copies of National Geographic magazines that contained those exact images. I kept one magazine with my image at my home in Washington DC, and we took the other magazine to Dominic and Diane’s condo in Italy to be with the print that now hangs above our bed.
My grandfather’s photo that appeared in the August 1950 issue of National Geographic
I promise, there’s a reason I’m giving such a long account of my personal family history and it all ties back to my wonderful wife. Not only was she thoughtful enough to present me with this great present a few years ago, but she also had a fantastic idea for a day-trip when my parents came to visit, which they did recently.
Julia was all smiles when her “Pop-Pop” and Grandma got off the plane. My folks had been with us to Lake Como before, but this was the first time in warm weather. They were excited to see everything with new eyes, all over again.
“Benvenuto, Pop-pop and Grandma”
Julia shows them around Italy
We had a long, but flexible plan laid out. We went to a small nearby lake, Lago di Montorfano and had a picnic.
Julia splashes in Lago di Montorfono right by our house
Then she needed a little gelato to cool down
We went for a drive along Lake Como and visited one of our favorite towns, Menaggio.
Stefani and Sonny are all smiles in Menaggio
Julia wanted to tell Pop-Pop a secret
I think she told him to smile
Julia can’t hog all the kisses from Pop-pop and Grandma
She wanted to touch the water but would get startled at each little wave crash
We also took a day trip to Monza – a town famous for the Formula 1 races that are held in the streets each September.
In front of the chiesa (church)
Julia insisted on “petting” the lion
And of course, we visited downtown Como. On the day we were in Como, there was Fiat 500 rally in Piazza Cavour. Recently, I was telling some American friends about this gathering of miniature vehicles and describing the car as the “Fiat Cinquecento”. They were looking at me like they had no idea what I was talking about and I was getting more and more frustrated – “Come on… I know that you know what I’m talking about. They’ve been in the States for a long time now. The little car. The Cinquecento!” Finally, I realized that I had been saying “five hundred” in Italian and so it wasn’t making any sense to him!
Classic old Fiat 500’s
This guy had his 500 equipped right – barrels of wine attached to the roof!
Hey, even security needs a little vino!
Of all the day trips though, Jennifer had planned something that eclipsed them all. She had decided that we would find the exact spot where my grandfather captured his lake image and recreate the exact same photo. I thought this was a marvelous idea, but equated it to finding a needle in the haystack. I think my dad thought it was the best idea he had ever heard and didn’t doubt for a moment that we would find the location. Since we had the original magazine, we read the account of the photo described by my grandfather. He captioned the photo, Summer Villas in Tiny Ronco Flank the Shores of Europe’s Deepest Lake, Maggiore, Shared by Switzerland and Italy. So it turned out that the image was actually taken on the Swiss side of a lake that crosses the border of both Italy and Switzerland. We knew the lake – Maggiore and we knew the town – Ronco. Some quick time spent on google confirmed that Ronco was a small village and so I became confident that we could cover the shoreline by foot and car fairly easily.
Some sailboats in Ronco
On a clear day, we packed up the car and set out toward the northwest corner of Lake Maggiore. The journey would take about two hours crossing some beautiful countryside. When we arrived in Ronco, I cruised the shoreline for a while looking for anything that resembled the photo. Nothing stood out. That’s OK… no reason to panic. It was time for lunch anyways, so we stopped to reward ourselves with a wonderful lunch overlooking the beautiful lake.
“Cin-cin, Dad!”
A happy couple eating lunch that overlooks the lake
Julia makes a silly face while eating her pasta (and she also made a big mess)
After a leisurely lunch it was time to go back to work. Since we had covered the south side of the village and the car was already parked, I made the decision to go north by foot. We walked for a bit. Then we walked further. Finally, I spotted it. But it wasn’t right. So we pushed on. Everyone’s pace slowed. But I remained confident it was just around the bend. It was not. Eventually, the sidewalk ended and I was pretty sure we had left Ronco twenty minutes prior. Sadly, we turned back to the car, but not before stopping at a bar to talk to the locals. I asked the proprietor if he was familiar with the location of my image (I had printed a copy to take with me). With barely a glance, he said “sì, sì. Conosco quel posto. Questo è Ascona” (yes, yes I know that place. That is Ascona). Wait, what? Ascona – the town about 10 kilometers up the road? He couldn’t be right, could he?
Julia marches through Ascona on the hunt for Poppy’s spot
We piled back in the car and drove to Ascona, just a few minutes up the road. Immediately after we parked, we saw it – the exact spot where my grandfather snapped his photo over sixty years prior! I learned something about my Poppy that day. Even though he was an exceptional photographer, his attention to detail may not have been the best. We imagined him, hunched over his photography equipment and notepad, enjoying a leisurely lunch and wonderful vino. I pictured him scribbling a few notes about the Lake and then asking a waiter the name of the town, not bothering to care (or realize) that he was lunching in Ronco, a town close – but yet so far from Ascona.
This was the area of the shot – the houses were different colors, but they were all still there
We were thrilled to have found it, Poppy’s published error notwithstanding. We were also amazed at the beauty of Ascona, a charming town with roughly 5,500 inhabitants. We walked along the water’s bank, our eyes always gazing upward toward the mountains and homes that appeared in Poppy’s image. I was particularly pleased, but not altogether surprised to see that all the same homes were still intact (although a few additional homes and condo’s had sprung up over the years). My father and I plotted and planned and finally agreed on the frame of the image. I must have taken over 100 images before we were done. Really getting into the spirit, I made my mom and dad pose with me like the dockworkers did so many years ago. We walked further down the shore and then realized we had picked the wrong spot. I suppose my grandpa isn’t the only one entitled to a mistake.
I’m trying to line up the image
My father and I review my work to check for accuracy
I posed us all as the dockworkers and tourists in the photo
Three generations pose where the prior generation had been over sixty years prior
Julia was all hugs
After we discovered we had been shooting in the wrong spot, we re-set and shot again. This time, we were confident that we captured the exact same image. There was even a boat on the ramp, like in the original photo.
Re-framing the shot
We both agreed on the new spot
Posing as dock works again
The final product – this was the shot I chose to resemble the original
And the original again so you can compare how we did
We spent a little time walking around the town and then headed back to the car, pleased with a job well done.
Julia insisted on getting her feet wet
Playing with daddy
Campanile (bell tower) of Ascona
Restaurants line the pedestrian street along the lake
An old Castello (castle) turned into a modern day Inn
Flags of various European countries lay still on a windless day
An old church on the hillside
Boats in the harbor
I couldn’t believe that I stood within feet (perhaps even the exact same spot) that my grandfather did sixty three years prior. My grandfather passed away nearly thirty years ago – when I was five years old. I felt more connected to him at that very moment that I ever had before. I know it was a special day for me and I’m sure it was even more special for my own dad. I will always be grateful to my wife for suggesting that we embark on this journey together.
Channeling my inner Poppy in order to take good pictures
No, I didn’t wear one myself, but only because we were already half-way through our trip before I came across a store that sold them. Real men also eat haggis (sheep’s heart, liver and lungs encased in it’s own stomach) – I did do that! Of course, so did my two-year old daughter… and she probably had more than all of us combined.
A scenic shot of the River Dee in the Scottish Highlands
Since living abroad, we’ve been able to get in touch with most of Jen’s roots. Her father is Italian (hence us living in Italy) and we’ve gone to many of the places where he has or had family. Since he grew up in Africa, we still have that left to do. Jen’s mother grew up in Ohio, and having crossed that off the list multiple times – it was time to go a bit further. Diane’s lineage is a mixture of Irish (we went to Dublin in March, HERE) and Scottish. Now, it was finally time to go to Scotland! And since Jen’s parents and sister were here visiting us, we would all embark on this adventure together.
Jen’s mom had reserved a private cottage exactly where I wanted to be… in the Scottish Highlands. There were a variety of reasons I was excited about this particular area of Scotland. The beauty of the countryside is well renowned. The area is an important part of the country’s and the world’s history. But I think there were two reasons more intriguing than all of that.
1) Many of the scenes from my all-time favorite movie, Braveheart were shot and took place in the Scottish Highlands.
2) Most of the world’s fine scotch is made in the Highlands.
I needed no better reason than those above to break out the scotch and watch Braveheart (for the umpteenth time) with Jen’s parents before we boarded our plane to Scotland. Jen’s eyes rolled as I screamed “FREEEEEDOM” along with Mel Gibson for the 1,000th time since we’ve been together.
After a short flight from Milan, we landed in Aberdeen, Scotland famished. We had one important task to tackle before we would allow ourselves to eat lunch… re-training our brains to drive on the wrong side of the road (that’s right to all you Brits, Aussies, Scots, etc. reading this blog… the wrong side). Jen’s father, Dominic and I each rented our own car and narrowly missed colliding into each other as we took a few practice laps around the parking lot. Five minutes later and confidence at 100% – our plan was fairly simple; we would spend the day touring Aberdeen before driving north to our cottage in Ballater, a charming town in the Royal Deeside. By the time we had parked our cars for lunch, it became apparent that none of us had packed properly for the Scottish weather. We ducked into a TKMaxx (I suppose it’s the Scottish cousin of TJMaxx) and bought jackets and warmer wears. I suppose it pays to read a few more blogs before traveling and arrive prepared.
Once we were warm and cozy, we walked around Aberdeen for a bit. We found a charming pub that fit the bill of exactly what we wanted. I scarcely glanced at the menu before ordering what I knew I would be the staple of my diet all week – fish n’ chips.
Old Blackfriars – the sign didn’t lie, it was Good Food indeed
My fish and chips, served with peas (although not mushy peas as tradition dictates, still delicious)
The “Belhaven Best Steak Pie” that Diane ordered
Julia found time to fit in a few slots
After lunch, we walked around Aberdeen a bit more and discovered truth to the nickname, the Grey City. Our group was weary and ready to shed our luggage. Additionally, we still had a two hour drive to Ballater, so our Aberdeen tour was cut a bit short. Headed due north and still on the wrong side of the road, we undertook one of my top 10 all-time favorite drives. The Scottish countryside was every bit as majestic as I would have imagined. We found Ballater, we found our cottage and then we found a great place for dinner later that evening. Unfortunately for Jen’s sister, Jessica – she had yet to find a wifi signal. Something those crazy, young kids need these days.
We wasted no time on our first full day in Scotland. The country is full of castles and Diane, knowing how much Jen and I love castles, was eager to share in the exploration of the country’s historic beauties. She had spent many fruitful hours researching a few castles to visit. Our first choice was somewhat local to our location, Balmoral Castle. This particular castle was an excellent choice, because of it’s direct and current ties to the Royal Family. It is the Queen’s personal residence each fall and has been used consistently by Royals since 1852. The castle is closed to public tours from August through October each year while the Queen takes up residence.
For posterity’s sake (and because I chuckle each time I think about it) I would be remiss not to mention a funny anecdote. When we purchased our tour tickets, I mentioned that my mother-in-law was of the Anderson Clan. The little old lady working in the shop proclaimed that “she knew many Anderson’s in her day and they were a bit like the Drummond’s… but nothing like the Cameron’s…” and on and on until she arrived at, “but watch out for those Macfie’s, they’re sheep stealing bastards, they are!” with more conviction than I would have expected from such a sweet little lady on such an otherwise innocent exchange. Sheep… stealing… bastards. That absolutely made my trip!
Balmoral Castle gates
The gatehouse and museum
Full view of the gatehouse
Julia prepares to go in the castle
But not without her audio guide
“I’m ready guys, let’s go!”
Balmoral castle from the main courtyard
I loved the turrets of the castle
Another angle
Part of the Queens garden – her bedroom overlooks a rose garden and then this beautiful, sunken garden
Julia was delighted to be in the Queen’s garden
She found such wonderment in the fountain as well
After a delightful tour of the castle (admittedly, it was more a tour of the grounds than the interior since the castle is still very much in use) – Jen, Jessica, Julia and I went for a stroll along the River Dee.
We took a stroll along the river
As well as the adjacent pathway through the woods
Beautiful scenery
The girls in the woods
I was so happy to be in such majestic outdoors
Julia was so happy, she broke out dancing
Sissies forever!
“What a day!”
At the end of the day, we checked in with the properties Event Manager to listen to all the activities available to us. They had some wonderful choices including fly-fishing, nature walks, bike tours and horseback riding. But the one that immediately caught the attention of me and Dominic was the whisky class, happening in a mere 30 minutes! I think we both half-expected the ladies to bow out and head back to the room, but we were pleasantly surprised when all three (Diane, Jen and Jess) told us they wanted to join in on the fun and spirits too.
All the whisky we got to taste
Whisky is as much a part of Scotland as cold weather, kilts or bagpipes. But let’s pause for a minute, because you may have a question.
“Greg, you referred to it earlier as scotch and now you’re calling it whisky. How come? Isn’t whisky different? And while we’re at it – how does bourbon play into all this… isn’t that in there somewhere? And is that stuff, rye invited to the party?”
If you already know the relationship between these spirits, please continue to the next section. If you’re curious – please read on. First, I called it scotch earlier to simplify things and use the commonly accepted American vernacular for this drink. Scotch, is in fact a whisky. So is bourbon. So is Tennessee whiskey and Irish whiskey (those would seem obvious) as well as the often forgotten rye. So, all these delicious brown drinks are considered whisky.
Dominic drinks with his new English pal
So what differentiates all these types of whisky’s and what’s with all the different names (but speed it up, would ya)?
Can’t promise to speed it up, but let’s continue. The differentiators are [mainly] their geography, the ingredients/process used and their spelling (notice the “e” comes and goes). Let’s start with geography. Whisky made in Scotland is, Scotch Whisky (even though we call it “scotch” they just call it “whisky” and laugh at anyone that calls it scotch. It would be like ordering an “American” when you really meant to order a “Budweiser”). If it’s made in Ireland, it will be an Irish Whiskey (think, Jameson). If it is made in that young country we call America, it will either be a Bourbon, Tennessee Whiskey or Rye. Bourbon is made (to my knowledge) exclusively in Kentucky while Tennessee Whiskey (think, Jack Daniel’s) is made exclusively in Tennessee. A few years ago I sought to unravel this web and found a blog that rumored the only difference between Tennessee whiskey and Bourbon was that the Tennessee folks didn’t want to claim the same name of anything made in Kentucky, and so Tennessee Whiskey was born (as I’m doing a little boning up for this piece, I’m learning that there is more to it). In any event, it turned out to be a wonderful marketing angle for Jack Daniel’s. Oh yeah, and then there’s Rye. It’s made in America and Canada, but as far as I’m concerned – it’s really only prevalent in Canada (think, Crown Royal). Rye is nice and all, but a bit forgettable at times (just like our nice neighbors from the north).
As far as the ingredients, they use malted barely on the more formal side of the pond, while us swashbuckling American’s distill from corn (heck, why not – we have a lot). Oh yeah, and that forgettable rye drink – you guessed it; it’s distilled from rye (although in Canada it doesn’t have to be… yeah, that makes a lot of sense, Canada!).
Our instructor, Gordon Muir pours some malted barley into my hand
OK, I’m afraid to ask… but I will anyway. Now that I know we’re discussing whisky from Scotland, what is the difference between a single malt and blended whisky? I really will fit this one into a nutshell (as I have a lot more typing left to do). A single malt is whisky that is all from the same distillery. The distillery will usually blend many different barrels to make their final product, but it will all be from the same distillery (think, Glenmorangie 18). A blended scotch whisky is the final product of whisky from two or more distilleries (think, Johnnie Walker – yes, all of them from Red to Blue). I didn’t know Johnnie Walker was a blend either (yeah, I’m talking to you), until my time in Scotland. If you want to read further on the subject, check out this guy’s blog – he does a far better job answering this particular question than me.
Me and my boy after a fun tasting
Since Scots call their drink simply by it’s proper name, whisky – henceforth so too shall I share in this fine tradition and proclaim, whisky whilst blogging about the great Scotland and forevermore (at least until I return home to the States – lest someone pour me a glass of Jim Beam, when I really meant Oban). Interesting fact that I learned while doing these whisky tastings (yes, a few more tastings were still to come). To add ice cubes to a nice glass of whisky is simply sacrilege and (I’m quoting my instructor here) “reserved for the Americans and those bourbons they call…pause for a chuckle… whiskey”. He went on to explain that the only good thing an American whiskey was good for is to mix with some of Scotland’s more inferior whisky’s to “liven them up a bit“. I spoke with a Scottish accent the rest of the class and hid the bald eagle that had previously been perched on my arm.
OK – whisky lesson over. WAKE back up!
Dominic walks Julia back home after the tasting
For those that endured a quick history on whisky and hoped for a more exciting adventure along the trip, I’m sorry but I may have to disappoint you. For those that skipped ahead as I offered you could do many paragraphs ago, I have accidentally mislead you. When I said to simply “skip down” I hadn’t yet consulted my photos, which chronologically catalogue our trip. So, you may be dismayed to learn that the whisky tasting only whet our whistles for a whiskey tour in an actual distillery. So you get… more whiskey photos! But before we did that, we went to go see the Falls of Feugh, explored some of the magical countryside and visited an intriguing suspension bridge.
The Falls of Feugh (pronounced almost like the naughty F word)
The Scottish-Irish crew
Scottish countryside – absolutely breathtaking
There were sheep everywhere
Dominic and I pause for a photo along the path to the suspension bridge
Father-daugher photo
My “artsy” shot with my muse
I felt like we were taking engagement photos
View from the bridge
The view from the other direction
Queen Elizabeth opened the bridge in 1988
A Scottish thistle (emblem of the Scottish nation) not quite in bloom
Digitalis Purpurea or Foxglove Flower
After all this time with nature, it was off to visit the Royal Lochnagar Distillery and see firsthand the process of how whisky is made. This particular distillery produces a relatively small amount of single-malt whisky each year. The distillery received it’s Royal Warrant in 1848 when the owner, John Begg invited Prince Albert to stop by for a drink. He offered him a sheep ride back to the neighboring Balmoral castle, since it wasn’t that far away (OK, I made that last part up).
The sign out front
They had Highland Cattle out front
The breed was developed in the Scottish Highlands and Western Isles
I couldn’t get enough of these guys
Apparently, neither could he
Fields in front of the distillery
I’ve never seen a more welcoming front door
Jessica stops to welcome us
A display of some of their finer whisky’s
If you want to buy a good whisky – just consult this group above, you can’t go wrong with any of them
I snuck all the following interior shots. We were not allowed to take photos inside the premises… but they didn’t realize I had a BLOG to write!!
On the left – peat (a wood burned to add smokey flavor), barley both natural and malted and an old scale
On the right – an old fashioned kiln that would be fed with peat
Copper pot still used during the distillation process
Barrels used during the aging process
The distillery always sets aside some of the best for a special whisky released in limited quantities
Our guide demonstrates how to property seal a barrel
Look at the mugs on these two – guess no one taught either of us how to smile
Water is a critical element in the process – this is the reserve that Royal Lochnagar uses
Another thing I learned – this is the “official” design of a proper whisky glass adopted somewhat recently
The next adventure within our Scotland trip was a pilgrimage to the capital, Edinburgh. Since I boiled 1,094 pictures from this trip into a mere 120 for this post – I think I’ll pause here and resume with a new post. Tune in again soon – plenty more fun to come!
Julia has officially been our favorite little peanut for two years now! It seems like just yesterday that we were having fun at her first birthday party in DC and only a blink before that when she first held my hand in the hospital delivery room. And now it was already time for another birthday!
Our birthday girl one year ago
What a difference a year makes!
Also, what a difference a country makes – birthday cake last year, tiramisu this year!
Jen’s parents and sister were happy they were here for the big day. We’d already had tons of fun together, which you can read about HERE. We had just gotten back from a trip to Abruzzo the day before (HERE) and we had to make quick work getting everything together for her party. It was going to be low key – just some family over for a few snacks and cake. If you know my wife and mother-in-law, you’ll know that “low key” was not easy for them. Dominic and I had to keep reminding them it was just a small gathering – no need for their always impressive party-planning skills to be put to the test.
The room is ready… Julia passes the time on momma’s phone. Nonno passes the time sneaking a snack
The table is set – just munchy things, Italian style
A little outdoor space for anyone who wished to take in the sun
Julia’s cake and some extra pastry that Dom picked up as a special surprise
Buon Compleanno – Happy Birthday! I bet they had to check the spelling twice; here it’s spelled Giulia
We hosted everyone on the Sunday before Julia’s birthday because it worked better than the actual date itself (a Tuesday). We strung balloons and decorations. We put out the food and we displayed the cake (which happened to be the most delicious torte I’ve ever had). The family all arrived and aperitivi where distributed. The party was fun and most importantly, Julia enjoyed it. She loved opening all her presents and had a great time playing with her cousins.
Julia sports her pretty party dress
“Oh yeah, I’m ready to party!”
Dominic (aka Mimmo, aka Nonno, aka Dom) gives a very nice toast
“Cin, Cin! I’ll drink to that!”
The cousins pose for a family photo
Julia with Jen’s Zio (uncle) Franco and Zia (aunt) Claudia
Julia wouldn’t give up her fake ice cream cone even though she had the real deal right in front of her
Zia Jess helps Julia with some of her new toys
Julia had a blast opening her presents
On the actual day of her birthday, the entire family went over to Agriturismo Cassinazza, a local agriturismo behind our home. An agriturismo is essentially an agriculturally-based operation that draws clientele in to view (or even participate in) their operations (which can be any combination of farming, livestock, etc.). Additionally, it can (and usually is) combined with lodging and/or dining. So, in most cases – you can stay in the agriturismo (like a bed and breakfast) as well as eat there (in their restaurant, which usually serves some of the freshest food you’ll find). We have found that these are some of the best restaurants and charming hotels as we have been navigating our way through Italy. So, to have such a nicely maintained one behind our home is a real treat. Their restaurant was simply amazing and we had a wonderful lunch.
The two prettiest girls this blogger has ever seen!
“Momma… cavalli (horses)”
Agriturismo Cassinazza has beautiful animals
Jess and Julia stop for a quick photo
Julia goes for a swing
But I think she found something more interesting to her left
Agriturismo Cassinazza is a wonderful place to stay or dine
Inside their courtyard, the tables were set for lunch
They even produce their own wine
Julia plays at lunch – being the center of attention is nothing new for her
“Now this is the kind of cake I can get into…”
“Yeah, I meant that literally!”
Everyone together after lunch
After lunch, we were poking around the grounds, showing Julia the animals when one of the workers saw us and guided us into a private area in the back. Within the little fenced area were chicks, ducks, turkeys and a few other little creatures that were all simply wonderful to play with.
She only wore her crown for a little while
Petting a baby duck
Julia was fascinated by the animals
She was tickled by how quick they were
Nonna coaxes Julia into kissing one of the baby ducks
I think she was in heaven herself!
We had two wonderful days celebrating our little girl, but we didn’t have much time before we would be back on the road… Diane’s ancestors in Scotland were calling (probably with a mouth full of haggis) and we were about to respond! Our plane to Scotland was departing in just a few days…
Since I’ll never be a movie producer, I finally have another outlet to satisfy my life-long dream to wrap something up with the simple phrase…
I think this is a fitting title to end our trip in France, which you can read about HERE, HERE and HERE.
Our little family recently journeyed into France for a visit with some wonderful friends, Michel and Shirley (read his blog HERE). We spent a few days with them in their home in Sablet, France. They were wonderful tour guides, packing in many activities that they knew we would enjoy. After a day spent touring some of the most beautiful villages in France, we had a serious thirst to quench. So the next day, we took advantage of our prime location in the Côté du Rhône region of France (arguably one of the most well-known wine producing regions in the world) and drank our way throughout the area.
Cool street art just outside of Sablet
Michel owns a charming bistro in Northern California (Bistro des Copains) that has not only increased his knowledge of Californian and French wines, but also given him a unique “in” to the local wine producers surrounding his village. It’s one thing to call and set up a tasting, and another thing entirely to call and set up a tasting because “I might decide to purchase your wine for my restaurant”. Ladies and gentlemen, feel free to unroll your red carpets now!
Michel did a wonderful job selecting three wineries to visit, ranging in size of production, type of wine produced and varying ambiance for our tastings. We started the tour at, Domaine Catherine Le Goeuil in Cairanne, a short ride from Michel and Shirley’s home. Catherine had set up a tasting for us in the production facility next to her home. Since I could not possibly tell Catherine’s story better than she could, I have copied her brief biography about the wine she produces from Kermit Lynch’s wine merchant website.
Catherine Le Goeuil’s taste for adventure has made her a leading pioneer in Cairanne. Having been born in the Congo to French parents, she had already lived in interesting places, but she longed to return to her roots. In 1993, with little experience and great determination, she and her family bought a six-hectare domaine. Soon after implementing one of their first chemical treatments on the vines, Catherine became very ill. The viticultural direction for the domaine became instantly clear. In her mind, farming as naturally as possible was the only way to go. Over time, she started the conversion to organic farming, and is now fully certified in this methodology. In a village just shy of one thousand inhabitants and only two others who farm organically nearby, her decisions have been met with suspicion and trepidation. Though rooted to the place both figuratively and literally, she is still considered an outsider—not that she lets this dilute her conviction in any way.
Domaine Catherine Le Goeuil
Ouvert (Open)
Part of the modest estate
Inside the bottling facility
French wine bottles
Bottling process in action
Loved the symmetry of the packaging
Julia always has to look her coolest
Jen and Shirley were kind enough to be our “scribes” so Michel and I had the necessary information for the our blogs
Aftermath of our tasting
Julia ran wild in the vineyards
Next, we ventured to Domaine la Soumade, a winery founded in 1979 by André Roméro (website). We slowly worked our way through a flight of Rasteau before selecting which bottles to purchase (or in Michel’s case, which cases to purchase).
Casks
“Step right up… what’ll it be? May I recommend a grenache?”
Reading to Shirley
Michel speaking to our host about his wines
Julia plays with the sunflowers
Vineyards out back
Interesting to see the French flag as opposed to the Italian flag
After lunch, we pointed the car toward the much anticipated village of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. If you’re no more than a casual drinker of French wine (like me), than you may be questioning that statement. “I thought Châteauneuf-du-Pape was a grape, or a style of wine, or (what I thought) a region?” Certainly, a wine as noted around the world as Châteauneuf-du-Pape couldn’t simply take the name of a small village with fewer than 1,000 inhabitants…could it?
Driving into Châteauneuf-du-Pape
The Popes castle sits high above the village
Street in Châteauneuf-du-Pape
The central concept to higher end French wine is the notion of terroir, the location where the grapes are grown and wine is made. The Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée (AOC) classification system uses this concept of terroir when classifying French wine. It is this rigorous classification issued by the government agency that ultimately determines (in part) how your wine bottle reads. The history of the AOC dates all the way back to 1411, when Roquefort (yes, the cheese) was first regulated. It wasn’t until 1935 that the Institut National des Appellations d’Origine (INAO) was created exclusively to manage the process for wines.
I learned that as you drink wines across France- the labeling practices are different and take on their own set of rules depending on which region the wine was made in and what level of classification the wine carries. The minimum information a label will carry is usually the classification and the name of the producer. Michel explained to us that in the Côté du Rhône region the ranking of a wine’s quality is fairly easy to determine, starting with Côté du Rhône (the generic label), thenCôté du Rhône-Villages (which includes 95 communes), next moving on to Côté du Rhône-Villages (named village) (where the village has earned the right to include its name on the label) and finally the highest class-action, Crus (the most demanding level of distinction, upon which the village will use only its name on the label, without needing to include Côté du Rhône). There are only 16 communes that have achieved this high level of distinction. The wines of Châteauneuf-du-Pape have been awarded this high level of crus status and therefore, only use the name of the village on the label.
After drinking the spectacular wines of Clos du Mont-Olivet, we toured the proprietors private cellar. It was jaw-dropping indeed to see bottles of wine that were worthy of serving royalty, reaching values too astronomical for me to fathom. It also made my draw drop to see Julia running wild in said-cellar and I had to put my camera down to chase her on more than one occasion. I don’t think stomping grapes the rest of my life to repay the debt of a single broken bottle would have been a wise notion. The estate is managed by David, the third generation in a line of winemakers of the Séraphin family. A kind and gentle man, he was happy to take time to explain his wine, show off his cellar, extol a few interesting anecdotes and allow us to take tons of pictures. David told us that the current spring (when the grapes begin to grow) was the coldest on record since 1887 and that winemakers all over the region were nervous of the outcome. If the outcome was anything like the wines we drank all day – they’ll be just fine!
A sign hangs outside Clos du Mont-Olivet
Outside Clos du Mont-Olivet
Julia kept herself pre-occupied by drawing…
And tasting French water along with us…
And finally, re-organizing corks
David welcomes us into his family’s cellar
There were thousands of wines inside
Some wines dated back fifty years
They had one of their original floor corking machines
Julia wanted to go “this way” toward the really expensive wines
Another shot of the cellar
Leading back into the production area
Packaging and storage area
Bottles prepare to ship
David prepares an invoice for our purchases
When we left Clos du Mont-Olivet we spent some time touring the village of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, which is as firmly intertwined with papal history as it is wine. In 1308, Pope Clement V relocated the papacy to the city of Avignon. My buddy Clement V and his subsequent “Avignon Popes” were rumored to be great lovers and promotors of wine during the seventy-year duration of the Avignon Papacy. John XXII (who came second) is responsible for erecting the famous castle that still stands today, known as the “Popes Castle”.
The Pope’s Castle through an ancient wall
Remains of the Pope’s Castle
View of the valley
In the village of Châteauneuf-du-Pape
The village was beautiful
Street scene
Looking back up toward the top of the castle
“Hi, everybody!”
“HI, MAMMA!”
“That’s so funny… I want to go up there!”
“Ciao, everyone…errr, I mean bonjour!”
Next, we drove to some of the vineyards, which we were surprised to learn were covered in rocks. Michel explained that these are naturally occurring and even when the farmers rake all the rocks, they simply re-surface again over time. Of course, everyone embraces the rocks and think its what gives Châteauneuf-du-Pape it’s unique terroir.
The rocks were amazing
Vineyards in Châteauneuf-du-Pape
One of the wineries planted roses at the end of each row of grapes
View in the middle of the vineyards
Another angle
Jen and I paid the price for stepping into the fields to snag a couple rocks as souvenirs
On our final day in France, we visited the Pont du Gard, an ancient Roman aqueduct bridge that crosses the Gardon River. The site is simply stunning to behold, and the UNESCO World Heritage Centre agreed, adding it to their list of World Heritage Sites in 1985 because of it’s historical importance.
Pont du Gard
The opposite side, higher viewpoint
Ancient villa on the Gardon River
We walked to the top of the aqueduct
We followed the route up to the panoramic viewpoint
The trek was worth it – there were stunning views
At the top
Amazing to see the bridge up close
Angle from below
This olive tree, along with it’s sister tree were relocated here and have thrived since 908 AD
Sister tree
Stone placard commemorating and expelling the trees’ history
View from the opposite bank
One of the end caps
The ancient carvings were magnificent. I think this says, “this end up”
Trees covered the roads to offer shade to the soldiers in ancient times
Nice scenery shot
Finally, we ended our day in Vaison-la-Romaine, a village that showcases an interesting historic perspective. Not only is the historic section separated into two parts, it is divided in two distinct ways. On the high side of the dividing river, Ouvèze you have Medieval ruins including a castle. On the lower side, centered on the Colline de la Villasse, you have the largest filed of Roman ruins in France. It’s quite stunning to take it all in.
The upper city – the Medieval city
View of the Medieval castle
Some of the Roman ruins
Roman ruins – pillars surrounding a courtyard
Courtyard
They believed this portion was housing
Ancient Roman gate still intact
The ruins covered such an impressive and vast amount of land
Would have loved to known who’s pool this was… some ancient tycoon?
A final look back over the Roman ruins
I hope you enjoyed your tour through France with us (both historical and culinary) as much as we did. Stay tuned as we return back to Italy and stay busy while Jen’s family comes to stay a month.
Jen, Julia and I spent a few days exploring France – from the French Riviera (blog post HERE) to Côtes du Rhône (first blog post HERE). I knew that the dining experience would be different than what we’ve grown accustomed to while living in Italy, but I think I underestimated just how different it would be.
I’ll point out a couple of the noticeable differences. If you’ve been reading this blog, you’ll know that I have made many references to pranzo, or lunch. While the literal definition is simply, lunch – it should be modified to be more along the lines of, large meal in which copious amounts of pasta are finished with meats and salads and where the act of gathering is as important as the meal. Wine and grappa are a must. Since lunch is usually the “big deal”, that means we partake in a very light dinner. Whereas in France, dinner was the star meal of the day. Although, many of our days in France we also had a big lunch, and so our stomachs questioned our brains when we sat down to a second coursed-out meal at dinner time.
Furthermore, the food itself is different in two distinct ways. It also happens to be similar in two ways. The differences – the types of food and the preparation. The food served in France is not the same as the food in Italy. Cassoulet as opposed to pasta. Duck and pigeon as opposed to veal and pork. Foie gras as opposed to cured meats. Further, the preparation is different. Italians cook with fewer ingredients and prefer simple, fresh cooking – a style I would classify as rusitco. The French have a more refined style of cooking whereupon layers of flavor are built with many different ingredients and multiple sauces are used to style and accompany the dish. The presentation itself is much more polished, even at the most simple of places. The similarities – they both use the freshest of ingredients, usually sourced locally at markets and they are both delicious in their own unique way.
There are subtle differences in even the small things. The bread and the cheese are different. The wine is different. The pastry is different. However, one thing remained consistent as we crossed the border into France and then back again. We still remained within the cradle of food’s most wholesome birthplace – and the food in France was wonderful.
It is for this reason that I decided to feature a blog post dedicated to some of the meals we enjoyed while we were in France. I’ve done a few “food posts” about dining experiences in Italy – so now it’s time to widen the circle. Please excuse some of the photos – iPhone’s were used at times. I only feel comfortable brandishing my large Canon camera in certain situations.
In Beaulieu-Sur-Mer, we found La Pignatelle, a charming restaurant that presents dishes in the Provençale style. We had lost the benefit of our cell phone’s internet (in a different country – roaming charges apply) and so we couldn’t “google” where to eat. We did it the old fashioned way – walking around, reading menu’s and assessing by looks. We lucked out, and had a wonderful meal. Jen ordered only an entrée, while I opted for the 3-course tasting menu with the understanding that I would be sharing some of my dessert! The owner, Christophe was a saint and patiently explained each dish’s ingredients and preparation. My favorite was when he got to the dessert we ultimately selected and his description was (read this to yourself in a French accent), “oohh… that one is too hard. Trust me – it is delicious, just order it”.
La Pignatelle – turned out that it has received 4.5 / 5 on Trip Advisor – worthy of the rating
Tartare de Saumon frais et pomme Granny-Smith (Fresh salmon tartare with Granny-Smith).
The pairing with the Granny-Smith was divine, even though I was skeptical
Cuisse de poularde au pot, riz basmati (chicken leg cooked in a pot with basmati rice)
I substituted the basmati rice for pommes de terre rôties (roasted potatoes)
Aïoli Provençal (cabillaud) et son court-bouillon de légumes frais
(Cod prepared Provencal-style with vegetables cooked in the fish broth)
Jen’s Aïoli – more mayonnaise than we’re accustomed to
Paris Brest – the dish he couldn’t describe, but well worth eating!
The next day, we met our friends Michel and Shirley at their home in Sablet. They easily slipped into the role of Guide de tous Cuisine Française (Guide of all French Cuisine) by taking us to some wonderful restaurants. On our first day in Côtes du Rhône, we enjoyed a casual outdoor lunch at Le Jardin.
Le Jardin (The Garden)
The garden in the back – simply a beautiful setting for lunch
Julia used the time waiting for lunch to create her best Chagall
Jen ordered a croque-monsieur with salade fraîche (fresh salad)
I had seared duck breast over a bed of pasta
Julia couldn’t kick the pasta habit so quickly so we indulged her – Michel helps her eat
Dessert for Julia – “brownie” with hot chocolate and ice cream
Fraises à la crème fouettée (strawberries with whipped cream)
Coffee-flavored ice cream with a warm chocolate drizzle
Julia was all kisses after lunch
That night, we meet their friends, Bruno and Sylvie Bordeaux, the owners of the local Cafe des Sports, just a moments walk from Michel and Shirley’s home. I never use last names in my blog, but their surname is simply too fantastic and too perfect not to use – Bordeaux! Michel and Shirley became fast friends with Bruno and Sylvie in recent years, and they graciously took us toCôteaux et Fourchettes (translated to Hills and Ranges) in a nearby town, Cairanne. This was one of the more memorable meals, because of my entrée selection as well as the fact that it seemed to hit most of the formal French dining traditions in a modern setting and style. You’ll see below that I ordered the pigeon… a first for me! And boy, was it delicious. While I waited 32 years to try pigeon, Julia has now eaten it before she turned 2 years old. Not only did she love pigeon, but she also couldn’t get enough of Jen’s foie gras (we drew the line at the tartare… I think she should at least be 3 years old before consuming raw beef). I think she would have done just as well in France as she is in Italy.
Out front of Bruno and Sylvie’s restaurant and bar
Amuse-bouche (“mouth amuser” typical in French restaurants)
Jen started with the foie gras – the best either of us have ever had
I started with a steak tartare – which you could tell was an obviously high-grade filet
Wonderful bread accompanied the table
The wine Michel selected was wonderful, from Gigondas – a nearby village
Jen had a seared filet over a wild bed of rice
I had the 1/2 pigeon over sautéed red cabbage with red pepper and saffron clafoutis
Bruno and I each opted for the extra cheese course, which was simply amazing
Chocolate mousse in tuple with grillot sorbet
The next day was marked by a visit to Les Abeilles, one of Michel and Shirley’s local favorites (website). The lunch was in the middle of a day spent wine tasting (blog post coming soon) and so our moods matched the delicious flavor of the food.
Les Abeilles
As delicious as these cheeses are, I would think sticking your nose in their would be equivalent to water board torture
Check out the cork holder – I’ve tried without success to imitate
I ordered the Huîtres fraîches ou gratine (escargot – snails)
Jen had Petits gris de Provence en ravioles au bouillon d’épinards
I had the Pièce d’agneau rôtie et légumes (piece of roast lamb and vegetables)
Jen enjoyed the Bœuf braisée aux oignons (braised beef with onions)
My three cheese choices – some of the most amazing cheeses I’ve ever had
Our final day was spent visiting the markets of Carpentras, and our lunch was spent on the balcony of Chez Serge. The refreshing selection of soup and fish marked the perfect meal to fit our moods.
Chez Serge
Loved the daily menu board posted out front
The roof terrace
Getting ready for our meal – I loved the classic cafe menu board used to display the daily menu table side
Shirley doing her best Julia impression. Wait, is it the other way around?!
Michel and I started with a fantastic gaspacho de tomate with shaved parmesan and home made crouttons
Jen started with a croustillant de chèvre (crispy purse of goat cheese)
Michel and I repeated again – escalope de saumon sauce epinard (steak of salmon with spinach sauce)
Entremet ananas (a pineapple dessert)
Fromage blanc ā la fraise (white cheese with strawberries) – quiet delicious
I hope you enjoyed this brief tour of part of our French dining experience. We hope to repeat again sometime in the future. Of course, not until we loose all the calories we consumed the first time around… I’m thinking that will be sometime in 2014.
I have no proof that when my sister, Michelle came to visit with her husband and daughter (David and Elsa) that he was the tallest man in all of Italy… but I’d say there’s a good shot! When I picked them up at the airport, I simply looked for the tallest/shortest couple combo possible (he’s a hair over 6’8″ and she’s a modest 5’2″). I spotted them instantly and helped them get some caffeine before taking them home for our big Italian lunch.
David, Elsa and Michelle – he’s crouching down to make it in the frame
Julia’s younger cousin, Elsa was her newest obsession and she had been excited all week leading up to their visit. She would wake up every day and scroll to some of the video’s or pictures we had on our iPad and scream “ELSA!” When the real thing walked (or rather, crawled) through the door – she was like a kid on Christmas. She couldn’t stop hugging and kissing her. Although, she had an awkward way of pulling her in by the neck – so much so that we dubbed Julia the, “Scranton Strangler” (you “Office” fans will get the reference).
The girls all reunited – Julia just wanted to kiss Elsa all the time
“Is my cousin trying to strangle me?!”
Michelle and David have a high-paced, action-packed lifestyle in Chicago and they were looking forward to a couple weeks of unplugging from their demanding jobs that they both do so well. We were happy to accommodate and show them a slow-paced trip filled with lots of good food and wine. We spent a couple days in the area, taking it easy. We visited the local park with the girls, we walked around downtown Como, we drove through many of the smaller lake towns. I showed David my favorite 5k loop and we went running together nearly every morning. Michelle cracked up one day after her privacy was invaded by our little Julia, somewhere in the beginning stages of potty training. She barged in and saw Michelle on the “potty” and declared to her, “Michelle… potty… YAHHH!”
The girls playing at the park
Jules sporting a pose in Como
It was drizzling when we went to Menaggio
Getting close to the ducks
Elsa fell in love with Italian food – especially risotto
“Mom, why is Julia always all up on my grill?!”
The day we spent driving around the lake was not the most cooperative of days – the temperature was pleasant, but the views were impeded by a haze and a constant drizzle dampened our tour. We stopped for a coffee and a leg-strech in one of our favorite towns, Menaggio before two fussy babies told us it was time to get home. On our way back, the constant drizzle gave us a wonderful gift – a double rainbow! This was something I’d personally never seen and only heard about in the internet-sensation youtube video.
We pulled over and took about 10,000 photos. Below are my favorites.
You could really see both rainbows so clearly
The “inside” rainbow landed directly on Bellagio
All the girls
Family photo
David shooting the rainbow
The original plan for Michelle and David’s vacation was to spend a week with us and another week exploring another part of Europe. We convinced them that it was much easier to just stay with us, making our place the home-base. So a few days into the trip, they planned to go to Cinque Terre. Jen and I had plenty to keep us busy around the house so we sent them off exploring on their own.
Levanto (David’s photo)
Cinque Terre is a beautiful gem in the Italian Riveria. The area consists of five rural fishing villages (the name means, “five lands“) that are interconnected via a pedestrian walkway. I first discovered this not-so-well-known destination 10 years ago during a study abroad and instantly fell in love. Today, the popularity of the place has reached stratospheric heights and tourists from all over the world come to see the uniquely beautiful terrain. While the change in visitors has altered the local landscape and flavor, it does not deteriorate the beauty of the villages themselves. Michelle and David selected a beautiful B&B in a town just outside Cinque Terre, Levanto which offers beautiful panoramics of the area. They had such a lovely time that they extended their trip by an extra day to really soak it all up. I borrowed a few of David’s photos in order to post them.
Momma with her baby
Elsa, the little adventurer
When they returned from their road trip, we spent a few more days locally (the seemingly endless rain kept us close to home) before embarking on another trip, this time all together. The destination – Tuscany. The specific area – open ended. Tuscany is probably the most well known region in Italy. What many people don’t realize is that it’s quite large with a lot of wonderful places to see. What you can’t do is pick a bad area, so I was confident that my internet search would yield a choice that was at least suitable for us. I underestimated just how perfect a location we would discover. A search across many of my favorite websites for this type of thing (trip-advisor, booking.com, agriturismo.net, etc.) lead me to a B&B in the Chianti region of central Tuscany. Borgo Sicelle was the perfect place. The location (midway between Florence and Sienna) offered us a chance to embark on great day trips. The property (originally an old farmhouse, carefully renovated) allowed us to rent a small apartment with individual rooms and a kitchen. The owners (Franco and Silvia) were so hospitable that we had everything we could want and more (including pack-n-plays in each bedroom). I don’t usually use this blog as a forum to recommend places to eat, see or stay (at least not intentionally) – but I will in this case. If you find yourself in Tuscany, stay at Borgo Sicelle!
Borgo Sicelle from the road
Inside one of the courtyards, showing some of the apartments
Another apartment with their own outdoor tables
One view from the property – the large open patch is a vineyard
Directly across is a small trattoria (restaurant) and next door is a church
Our “front yard”… at least for a few days
The upper terrace
When we arrived, Franco gave us the lay of the land. He also gifted us a bottle of wine made by his brother-in-law (a Chianti, of course) and helped us get settled in by touring us around his amazing property (complete with several private apartments, infinity pool, multiple terraces, a playground, rec room and more). He also explained that many of the local restaurants were participating in a pseudo “restaurant-week” where they were offering pre-fix menu’s at discounted prices. Silvia helped us call and make a reservation at a restaurant, La Torre in Castellina in Chianti, one of the main villages in the area. We arrived on time for our 7:00pm reservation and didn’t leave until all six courses had been served and we’d had our grappa. It was close to 11:00pm by the time we got home and got the girls in bed.
Outside the restaurant
Night fell while we were inside
The Rocca of Castellina at night
Another angle of the Rocca
Julia was exhausted by the time we got home
The next day, we all took our coffee outside before setting out on an excursion Franco helped us script. We visited a few of the nearby villages, including a stopover for lunch in Volpaia – a medieval village that is as rich in history and beauty as it is in quality wine.
Coffee on our patio
Exploring Volpaia
We had a wonderful lunch here
After lunch Julia took a stroll
David tried to keep up
The girls had fun together
Julia calling out to the people below
Looking cool with mommy
A street scene in Volpaia
Another street
In the center of town
At the end of the day, we pulled together a nice selection of food (meats, cheeses, olives, sardines, etc.) and dined outside while the sun set behind us.
Rustic dinner we threw together to dine al fresco
About to sit down to dinner
The girls were quick to finish eating so they could play
We loved the sunset
The Tuscan hills came to life with such vibrant colors
The following day we went to Siena, a short 30 minute drive from our hotel. Siena was settled by the Etrucans between 900 – 400 BC. Today, it stands as one of the most visited locations in Italy. The city center has been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Besides the rich art, architecture, museums and cuisine – the city is famously known for Il Palio, a horserace held twice a year in the main square, Piazza del Campo.
Julia and Michelle made matching braids for the day
Inside Piazza del Campo
Teaching Julia how to use the camera
I took her for a walk in the piazza
Michelle with her hands full
Julia ate all of my mint gelatto
At the end of the day, we swung back by Castellina in Chianti to visit the Macellaio (butcher) and pick up some fresh fruit and vegetables. We had seen Franco using the BBQ the night before and David and I couldn’t get it out of our mind. Our first choice to grill… a big hunk of cinghiale (boar), a specialty of the Tuscan region. Unfortunately, the only boar he had in that day was in a salami (which we got – delicious). For the BBQ, we opted for another Tuscan speciality, bistecca (steak) and salsiccia (sausage). As David and I approached the grill, we admitted to each other that it had been a while since either of us had grilled using charcoal (hedging in case either of us made a critical error). We were further handicapped by the fact that the charcoal provided wasn’t the posh, self-burning American kind – but rather some hard-to-light wood variation. Finally, we both had the gnawing image of Franco’s perfect coals glowing like small pillows delivered straight from Hades the night before. We managed to get enough of a fire going to grill meat – our manhood was in tact and we delivered perfectly cooked steak and sausage to the family. Thousands of years of genetic programing proved to be successful.
The butcher wielding his tools
Julia helped us pick our fruit
We had some of the antipasti in front of our “house” before the grilling commenced
Salami (boar salami on the left) and bread
Jen helping us stoke the fire
Our steaks!
A finocchio (fennel) salad
We had learned that we were a “three-bottle” family
Eventually, our time in Chianti came to an end (even after extending an extra day) and we headed back to home to Como. Sadly, Michelle and David’s visit to Italy had also come to an end and we helped Michelle pack for her flight home the next day. What about David, you ask? Well, he must have liked us so much that he stayed an extra night and flew to London the day following day on a business trip. We were thrilled to host their little family, Julia loved having Elsa and we will always remember that trip to Tuscany as something truly special.
