Tierra Madre: Slow Food Conference, Italy 2010. Beth Linskey and Liz Beals have been chosen among the 41 New York State Delegates to attend Tierra Madre: Slow Food Conference in Turin, Italy this October and among 500 from the United States.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Friday, November 5, 2010
Contacts for all the fabulous places we ate and stayed, cool pictures of hats, etc.
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| Can I be spoon fed every day? |
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| The Queen Mum |
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| Apples from all over the world! |
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| Green market farmers and staff |
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| Jams from other parts of the world |
Slow Food Restaurant: La Trattoria ai Due Platani
via Budellungo, 104/A
Coloreto di Parma (PR)
tel. 0521.645626
(don't miss going here! The food is fabulous along with the waitstaff).
(Hotel) Star Hotel du Parc Hotel
Viale Piacenza, 12/C - 43100 - Parma
Tel: +39 0521 292929
Fax: +39 0521 292828
email duparc.pr@starhotels.it
www.starhotels.com/parma-hotel/
Modena
(Balsamic Vinegar Maker)
Azienda Agricola Rossi Barattini
Via Giardini Sud,170 41043 Formigine Modena (Italy)
Tel/Fax 059 236115
Mobile 335 8425571
www.balsamicodop.it
info@balsamicocop.it
(Dinner)
Slow Food Restaurant: Ristorante Erba Del Re "Herbs of the King"
via Castel Maraldo, 45
tel. 059 218188
(Hotel) Hotel Estense
Via Jacopo Berengario, 11
41121 Modena, Italy
Tel. 059 219057
Carrara and Forti De Marmi
Hotel Michaelango (Hotel)
Corso C. Rosselli, 3
54033 Carrara Massa-Carrara, Italy
Tel 0585 777 1612
Nicoli and Lyndam (marble sculpture studio)
Piazza XXVII Aprile, 8/E
54033 Carrara, Italy
Tel.: +39 0585 70079
fax: +39 0585 73183
www.carlonicoli.com
info@carlonicoli.com
(Dinner) La Magnolia Restaurant in Hotel Byron
V.le A. Morin, 46
55042 Forte dei Marmi
LUCCA
Tel. +39 0584 787052
Fax +39 0584 787152
www.hotelbyron.net
Vigevano (outside of Milan)
(Hotel and Dinner)
Hotel Del Parco
Corso Milano 95, 27029 Vigevano (Pavia)
Trattoria PodazzeraTel. 0381690268
Turino (lunch)
Eataly
Via Nizza 224
10126 Turino (TO)
Alpignano (Hotel during Slow Food Conference)
Hotel Parlapa
Via Fornace 49
10091 Alpignano (TO) Italy
Tel 39 0119679995
Fax +39 011 967 98 92
info@hotelparlapa.it
www.hotelparlapa.it
(Dinner) Ristorante Nazionale
s.a.s di Severino Cattin & C
Corso Francia, 4
10098 Rivoli (TO)
Tel: 0119580275
cell: 3355607901
(Dinner) Pizzaria Ristorante Zeus
Via Arnaldo Da Brescia, 23
Torino
Tel: 0113192400
Milan
(hotel and dinner) Crown Plaza
Milan-Malpensa Airport
via Ferrarin, 21-21019 Somma Lombardo (VA),Italia
Tel. +39 0331 21161
Fax. +39 0331 211663
email: info@crownplazamalpensa.com
www.crownplaza.com
(Dinner) Nabucco
Via Fiori Chiar 10, Milan, Italy 20121Map
+39 02 86 0663
email: info@nabucco.itwww.nabucco.it/pres_i.html
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Fun additional pictures
| Well, our pants are all too tight across our tookuses. We have no one to blame but ourselves. Really, though, we're not sorry! We have landed back on this side of the pond and we're trying to re-adjust to time and food. There were some other pics that I just hadn't gotten a chance to add in and so here they are in no particular order. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| And of course must have the perfect shoes to go with them |
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| These were the women in the Salon d' Gusto who were stringing up little clusters of tomatoes into beautiful bunches...with cotton that they grew themselves, spun with drop spindles into string and then strung up. |
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| This was the walkway in the gorgeous Parc DuCale in Parma |
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| Once of the pop up singing sessions with the Sicilian group in the morning when we were waiting for our bus in the hotel foyer. |
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| Yes, this really is a middle Eastern man with a goat "body purse". Jeri HAD to take a picture and I'm glad she did because I wasn't there to see it and I totally wouldn't have believed her!! Although, I wonder if everything that he carries in his purse smells like goat intestines. I'm not excepting a tissue from HIS purse. |
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| Super funky moldy french cheese. |
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| They had lots of different kinds of funky cheeses. |
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| Duomo in Milano. |
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| Dancin' with my little, Sicilian friend after dinner one night. |
Monday, October 25, 2010
Like Water for Chocolate
Our Saturday workshops at Slow Food were all very interesting. Jeri, Ruth and I attended the Small Scale Producers workshop to talk about difficulties and solutions to small scale production around the world. It turns out many farmers want to make jam on their farmsteads and can't due to regulations. In France, they have beem using shared-use rentable kitchens (like in NY state) and one woman from Colorado that does goat's cheeses, milk, and eggs admitted that she simply flies under the radar. Interesting stuff!
Beth attended the USA meeting for Slow Food. Carlo Petrini was there and said that there was going to be a Slow Food conference in the USA next year, either in NYC or Washington DC. Stay tuned..
Beth was going to attend the fisherman's class, but the previous class in the room, on nutrition, ran over, so Beth listened to that one too! The presentation was about how in Tanzania, one of the main sources of food given to children is black tea. As you can imagine, they have discovered that it's not such a fabulous source of nutrients for grown children! So, they presented on how they have been educating parents on feeding the kids a porridge/cereal from grains,rather than black tea.
Then, when that class finally let out, the Fisherman's meeting was able to begin. Alice Water's started by reflecting on how she had fallen in love with the fresh oysters in France and that when she tried to order them for Chez Panisse, they didn't taste the same. Then one day, her French oyster order didn't come in so she ordered oysters from her local fisherman and realized that the local, fresh oysters were wonderful like the French ones. It's nice to know even Alica can "a-ha!" moments!
We decided for lunch, that we needed to venture out of the conference area, across the was to Eataly, the store. I had barely even heard of them before, but Beth and Jeri had and were excited to go to one in Italy. Well, what a "knock your socks off" kind of place. Eataly is a combination high end grocery store while also having small, themed restaurants within each department of the store. We decided to have our lunch in the bakery and pizza department of the store to have pizzas. Jeri, Beth, and Ruth decided to have the traditional margherita pizza, while I had the pizza of the day. Now, the pizza had a pork sausage topping along with their description of "rape" (pronounced "rrrraaahhhpaaay"). When the waitress gave the description, I said to the girls, "Oh, broccoli. Fabulous." When the pizza came, though. There was sausage, yes; but there were also sliced rounds of this yellow stuff. I bit into it and announced," Ohhh, it's turnip!" I must say, it tasted fabulous. My mis-translation served me well. A fulfilling lunch.
After lunch, I attended the performance of the Sicilian singing group that was staying at the same hotel as us. When my little Sicilian friend and I were having our choppy conversation on Friday morning, I was able to understand that they were performing on Saturday afternoon. You should have seen their lovely regalia. They had on full length black capes over their black vests and black pants. What a sight! The whole performance was fun. Jeri and Ruth were able to attend the second half.
Walking around the Salon d' Gusto again, a guy walking in the opposite direction of me, stopped and said, "Hey, your that girl that was one group ahead of me at CIA that was going to go make jam!" He explained that he had been in the class behind be in the bachelors program at The Culinary Institute when I was about to graduate. Apparently, he had met me while we were both in the Honor Society and I had told him that I was going to go make jam after I graduated. I must admit, I didn't remember any of that and he explained that he remembers faces well. He asked how that had worked out and I put my arm around Beth and said, "Well, pretty good. This is Beth, the Queen Jammer!" He is a chef in NJ now.
After the days work at the conference, we decided that we were going to head out to have dinner, rather than eat the ho-hum hotel food. We had gotten a recommendation for a restaurant in Turin and took a cab there. We checked out the menu and the prices when we arrived and were disappointed. While it looked like a lovely place inside, the prices were sky high and the choices of food were not equal to the price. So, we wandered further to a pastry and chocolate shop that was open, got a coffee, and asked the woman behind the counter to recommend a great place to eat. She walked to the door that led to the back work room and called out the chocolatier. Gunther (we'll call him that) was a talk, strapping lad. We asked him in Italian for a place and he looked a little flustered. He gave some small instructions in Italian, but I kept hearing German words slip in. I was about to mention a language switch when he apologized and explained that it was unfortunate that he can really only explain in German how to get to the restaurant. I perked right up and explained, in German, that that was going to be no problem! Well, Gunther smiled so wide and breathed such a sigh of relief, I thought he was going to melt the chocolate case in front of him. He happily explained in German the direction, streets, and landmarks to get to Zeus'. And we were on our way!
Gunther gave perfect directions and Zeus' was another hit. It was a local, family friendly spot but the food was splendid. (It was at about this point that we realized that we were going to little, local spots every night, without any other tourists or English speakers around us. Just Italians!)
Jeri and Beth both got the swordfish carpaccio, while Ruth got a green salad and I got a focaccia with speck (prosciutto-like stuff). The carpaccio was, once again, divine while my focaccia was pleasingly crispy, crunchy with the lovely saltiness of the ham on top.
For our entrees, Jeri got the spinach risotto, Beth ordered the carbonara, I set my mind on Arrabiatta, and Ruth ventured forth with the whole, grilled bronzini. Jeri's risotto was positively perfect. The color of the rice dish was supremely bright, fresh green within the ultimate creamy risotto that had that dreamy little bite of the rice still. Beth and I had lovely pasta dishes, but the really winner was Ruth's grilled fish. Our waiter presented it whole, head on, and grilled to her and then (in this family pizzaria, essentially) proceeded to do a table side deboning of this luxuriousness. And what a job he did. You would have thought you were in the white linen restaurant instead of the place around the corner. It was perfect. Perfectly cooked, filleted, and dreamy.
For dessert, we had lemon tart and chocolate souffle, both of which were slight surprises when they came to the table. The lemon tart was a slice of lemon meringue pie which while not being was we expected, tasted delish. The chocolate souffle was a chocolate cake with ganache on top. Since ganache is, really, it's own food group and one that I eat as often as possible, we all tucked into both as if it was exactly what we had in our minds!
We had the restaurant call us a taxi and when we got into the cab, I told him that our hotel name, the city, and street name. Well, mister cab driver and I weren't speaking the same because about 2 minutes later, we had to reroute to the actual destination we wanted. He had misunderstood me (I'm sure I did a poor job) so after righting ourselves, we arrived to the hotel tired, content and ready for bed. But wait! Not just yet. We got into the door and heard music and singing in the dinning room. We follow to sounds and our Sicilian singing group was tearing the room off, complete with accordions, guitars, tambourines, and drums. The next song was one to dance to and Don Lewis of Wild Hive Farms and I cut a rug while Beth and my little, Sicilian friend paired off. Mid way through the song, my little friend switched us up and he and I did a little two step (I couldn't really get the full name on his tag, but I saw something like "agnoli"). What a hoot and a holler! After that, we really, really needed to go to bed and so we did.
Sunday, the last day of Terra Madre had a few great workshops. Jeri, Ruth, and I attended a presentation from a panel of chefs around the world talking about how they have achieved sustainability, overcome obstacles, and accomplish using local foods. All of them were different and intriguing.
Beth went to "Grainery of Knowledge" with Carlo Petrini and Andonna Shiva.
Ruth and I decided that we needed to get chocolate to come back with to the USA. After having much too much fun acquiring yummies, we decided we needed to get a yummy for ourselves. We had seen the fried olives in a part of the event called "Street Foods". They're vendors from all over the world selling street food from their country. Ruth and I ponied up to the bar and had some. Pretty amazing. It was a green olive that was then stuffed with veal, breaded and fried. As you can imagine, the filling was majestic and the outside was perfectly crunchy. We decided this snack had really made our day.
We were leaving the conference before the official closing ceremonies due to bungling of the travel plans by Terra Madre (they wanted to dump us at the airport at 1:45 AM monday morning to get the morning flights.)
We took the bus to the Milan airport which would then take us to our hotel. A gentlemen sitting next to us overheard that we made jam. He handed us his brochure and he runs a group of women in Transylvania that make jams from wild fruits foraged in the forests! What are the odds. Jeri and Beth have been scheming to do an international jam tour of different marmalade makers of England, Ireland, Whales, and Scotland and we might just have to squeeze in Eastern Europe!
Once we got to the hotel and dropped our stuff at our rooms, we ventured into the heart of Milan. We visited the gorgeous Duomo, galleria, and Opera house, and had wine and snacks within the marble floored galleria. I had a lemon sorbet that could have stopped a clock. Quite a number!
We made our way to the area that was recommended that we get dinner: Le Brera. It's a section of streets that have many restaurants, one after the other to choose from. I can't remember that name of the place we picked, but no matter; it was great. Ruth had a salad that we shared with the table, Jeri and Beth shared a plate of herb stuffed ravioli while I had the David and Goliath's version of Bolognese style lasagna. All three dishes were unique and spectacular. My lasagna was, of course, nothing like you've ever gotten in America (which was why I HAD to order it!) Fresh layers of pasta, light, delicate meat with a creamy style sauce.
For our entrees, Beth and Jeri shared Braided fish (yes, it was ACTUALLY braided fillets of fish) which were delicious. Ruth has the ravioli filled with fish and I had another stick-to-your-ribs, dyeing mans last meal of braised veal cheeks with polenta. My brain must be preparing to thicken up for winter because it would appear that that is just what I'm doing!
We were too full for dessert, and so had our cookie and lemoncello and took the train back to the hotel.
This morning, Monday, Jeri and Ruth took their flight back to JFK while Beth and I are staying another day. Beth and I made a dutiful attempt at visiting the city of Milan again. But when we got into the heart of the city, with a hell of a rain and wind event going on, to try and see Leonardo Di Vinci's Last Supper at the little church that he painted it in the basement of the refectory - they were closed (closed on all Mondays). So we decided to head to the landmark 124 year old food store, Pecks, which was ALSO closed. We found out that a Salvodor Dali exhibit was in town, but that wouldn't be open until after everyone in the universe had their afternoon coffee and rest at 2:30. So, we had a hot chocolate, cut our losses, and headed back to the hotel. In the end, it really was a rainy, hunker down and take a nap, sort of day.
Not a problem! It forced us to catch up with our blog!
Beth attended the USA meeting for Slow Food. Carlo Petrini was there and said that there was going to be a Slow Food conference in the USA next year, either in NYC or Washington DC. Stay tuned..
Beth was going to attend the fisherman's class, but the previous class in the room, on nutrition, ran over, so Beth listened to that one too! The presentation was about how in Tanzania, one of the main sources of food given to children is black tea. As you can imagine, they have discovered that it's not such a fabulous source of nutrients for grown children! So, they presented on how they have been educating parents on feeding the kids a porridge/cereal from grains,rather than black tea.
Then, when that class finally let out, the Fisherman's meeting was able to begin. Alice Water's started by reflecting on how she had fallen in love with the fresh oysters in France and that when she tried to order them for Chez Panisse, they didn't taste the same. Then one day, her French oyster order didn't come in so she ordered oysters from her local fisherman and realized that the local, fresh oysters were wonderful like the French ones. It's nice to know even Alica can "a-ha!" moments!
We decided for lunch, that we needed to venture out of the conference area, across the was to Eataly, the store. I had barely even heard of them before, but Beth and Jeri had and were excited to go to one in Italy. Well, what a "knock your socks off" kind of place. Eataly is a combination high end grocery store while also having small, themed restaurants within each department of the store. We decided to have our lunch in the bakery and pizza department of the store to have pizzas. Jeri, Beth, and Ruth decided to have the traditional margherita pizza, while I had the pizza of the day. Now, the pizza had a pork sausage topping along with their description of "rape" (pronounced "rrrraaahhhpaaay"). When the waitress gave the description, I said to the girls, "Oh, broccoli. Fabulous." When the pizza came, though. There was sausage, yes; but there were also sliced rounds of this yellow stuff. I bit into it and announced," Ohhh, it's turnip!" I must say, it tasted fabulous. My mis-translation served me well. A fulfilling lunch.
After lunch, I attended the performance of the Sicilian singing group that was staying at the same hotel as us. When my little Sicilian friend and I were having our choppy conversation on Friday morning, I was able to understand that they were performing on Saturday afternoon. You should have seen their lovely regalia. They had on full length black capes over their black vests and black pants. What a sight! The whole performance was fun. Jeri and Ruth were able to attend the second half.
Walking around the Salon d' Gusto again, a guy walking in the opposite direction of me, stopped and said, "Hey, your that girl that was one group ahead of me at CIA that was going to go make jam!" He explained that he had been in the class behind be in the bachelors program at The Culinary Institute when I was about to graduate. Apparently, he had met me while we were both in the Honor Society and I had told him that I was going to go make jam after I graduated. I must admit, I didn't remember any of that and he explained that he remembers faces well. He asked how that had worked out and I put my arm around Beth and said, "Well, pretty good. This is Beth, the Queen Jammer!" He is a chef in NJ now.
After the days work at the conference, we decided that we were going to head out to have dinner, rather than eat the ho-hum hotel food. We had gotten a recommendation for a restaurant in Turin and took a cab there. We checked out the menu and the prices when we arrived and were disappointed. While it looked like a lovely place inside, the prices were sky high and the choices of food were not equal to the price. So, we wandered further to a pastry and chocolate shop that was open, got a coffee, and asked the woman behind the counter to recommend a great place to eat. She walked to the door that led to the back work room and called out the chocolatier. Gunther (we'll call him that) was a talk, strapping lad. We asked him in Italian for a place and he looked a little flustered. He gave some small instructions in Italian, but I kept hearing German words slip in. I was about to mention a language switch when he apologized and explained that it was unfortunate that he can really only explain in German how to get to the restaurant. I perked right up and explained, in German, that that was going to be no problem! Well, Gunther smiled so wide and breathed such a sigh of relief, I thought he was going to melt the chocolate case in front of him. He happily explained in German the direction, streets, and landmarks to get to Zeus'. And we were on our way!
Gunther gave perfect directions and Zeus' was another hit. It was a local, family friendly spot but the food was splendid. (It was at about this point that we realized that we were going to little, local spots every night, without any other tourists or English speakers around us. Just Italians!)
Jeri and Beth both got the swordfish carpaccio, while Ruth got a green salad and I got a focaccia with speck (prosciutto-like stuff). The carpaccio was, once again, divine while my focaccia was pleasingly crispy, crunchy with the lovely saltiness of the ham on top.
For our entrees, Jeri got the spinach risotto, Beth ordered the carbonara, I set my mind on Arrabiatta, and Ruth ventured forth with the whole, grilled bronzini. Jeri's risotto was positively perfect. The color of the rice dish was supremely bright, fresh green within the ultimate creamy risotto that had that dreamy little bite of the rice still. Beth and I had lovely pasta dishes, but the really winner was Ruth's grilled fish. Our waiter presented it whole, head on, and grilled to her and then (in this family pizzaria, essentially) proceeded to do a table side deboning of this luxuriousness. And what a job he did. You would have thought you were in the white linen restaurant instead of the place around the corner. It was perfect. Perfectly cooked, filleted, and dreamy.
For dessert, we had lemon tart and chocolate souffle, both of which were slight surprises when they came to the table. The lemon tart was a slice of lemon meringue pie which while not being was we expected, tasted delish. The chocolate souffle was a chocolate cake with ganache on top. Since ganache is, really, it's own food group and one that I eat as often as possible, we all tucked into both as if it was exactly what we had in our minds!
We had the restaurant call us a taxi and when we got into the cab, I told him that our hotel name, the city, and street name. Well, mister cab driver and I weren't speaking the same because about 2 minutes later, we had to reroute to the actual destination we wanted. He had misunderstood me (I'm sure I did a poor job) so after righting ourselves, we arrived to the hotel tired, content and ready for bed. But wait! Not just yet. We got into the door and heard music and singing in the dinning room. We follow to sounds and our Sicilian singing group was tearing the room off, complete with accordions, guitars, tambourines, and drums. The next song was one to dance to and Don Lewis of Wild Hive Farms and I cut a rug while Beth and my little, Sicilian friend paired off. Mid way through the song, my little friend switched us up and he and I did a little two step (I couldn't really get the full name on his tag, but I saw something like "agnoli"). What a hoot and a holler! After that, we really, really needed to go to bed and so we did.
Sunday, the last day of Terra Madre had a few great workshops. Jeri, Ruth, and I attended a presentation from a panel of chefs around the world talking about how they have achieved sustainability, overcome obstacles, and accomplish using local foods. All of them were different and intriguing.
Beth went to "Grainery of Knowledge" with Carlo Petrini and Andonna Shiva.
Ruth and I decided that we needed to get chocolate to come back with to the USA. After having much too much fun acquiring yummies, we decided we needed to get a yummy for ourselves. We had seen the fried olives in a part of the event called "Street Foods". They're vendors from all over the world selling street food from their country. Ruth and I ponied up to the bar and had some. Pretty amazing. It was a green olive that was then stuffed with veal, breaded and fried. As you can imagine, the filling was majestic and the outside was perfectly crunchy. We decided this snack had really made our day.
We were leaving the conference before the official closing ceremonies due to bungling of the travel plans by Terra Madre (they wanted to dump us at the airport at 1:45 AM monday morning to get the morning flights.)
We took the bus to the Milan airport which would then take us to our hotel. A gentlemen sitting next to us overheard that we made jam. He handed us his brochure and he runs a group of women in Transylvania that make jams from wild fruits foraged in the forests! What are the odds. Jeri and Beth have been scheming to do an international jam tour of different marmalade makers of England, Ireland, Whales, and Scotland and we might just have to squeeze in Eastern Europe!
Once we got to the hotel and dropped our stuff at our rooms, we ventured into the heart of Milan. We visited the gorgeous Duomo, galleria, and Opera house, and had wine and snacks within the marble floored galleria. I had a lemon sorbet that could have stopped a clock. Quite a number!
We made our way to the area that was recommended that we get dinner: Le Brera. It's a section of streets that have many restaurants, one after the other to choose from. I can't remember that name of the place we picked, but no matter; it was great. Ruth had a salad that we shared with the table, Jeri and Beth shared a plate of herb stuffed ravioli while I had the David and Goliath's version of Bolognese style lasagna. All three dishes were unique and spectacular. My lasagna was, of course, nothing like you've ever gotten in America (which was why I HAD to order it!) Fresh layers of pasta, light, delicate meat with a creamy style sauce.
For our entrees, Beth and Jeri shared Braided fish (yes, it was ACTUALLY braided fillets of fish) which were delicious. Ruth has the ravioli filled with fish and I had another stick-to-your-ribs, dyeing mans last meal of braised veal cheeks with polenta. My brain must be preparing to thicken up for winter because it would appear that that is just what I'm doing!
We were too full for dessert, and so had our cookie and lemoncello and took the train back to the hotel.
This morning, Monday, Jeri and Ruth took their flight back to JFK while Beth and I are staying another day. Beth and I made a dutiful attempt at visiting the city of Milan again. But when we got into the heart of the city, with a hell of a rain and wind event going on, to try and see Leonardo Di Vinci's Last Supper at the little church that he painted it in the basement of the refectory - they were closed (closed on all Mondays). So we decided to head to the landmark 124 year old food store, Pecks, which was ALSO closed. We found out that a Salvodor Dali exhibit was in town, but that wouldn't be open until after everyone in the universe had their afternoon coffee and rest at 2:30. So, we had a hot chocolate, cut our losses, and headed back to the hotel. In the end, it really was a rainy, hunker down and take a nap, sort of day.
Not a problem! It forced us to catch up with our blog!
Friday, October 22, 2010
La Marmo, La Mare, La Madre, and More!
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| Beautiful, gnarly tree in Carrara |
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| This is the marble sculpture the artist was working on when we toured. It's part of an installation of benches going into Central Park, NYC!! |
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| There are benches carved into the back side of the "eyes". Beth wasn't tall enough to get herself up to sit in one, but when they all get into Central Park, she's going to have to go and take a picture to send back to the sculpture. |
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| Beth had to try her hand at the filing and smoothing of the marble. Now she can say she she carved it! |
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| This is the sign and name of the marble sculpture studio that we toured. |
We toured the Nicoli Studio in Carrara. The sculpture, himself, gave us a tour. The interesting part was that he spoke nearly no English. Instead, we had a combined Italian and French conversation about how they go about preparing to do a marble sculpture. Plaster molds are taken around a model that cast the negative and then plaster "positives" are made from the "negative"). Then they use calipers to create measuring points for reference to make a realistic sculpture. We were not allowed to take pictures within the sculpting workshop due to copyright infringement and the artists privacy rights. What we SAW were amazing! They had the casts made of a woman reclining in a series of positions. Next to the plaster cast was the marble that they were carving it out of. There was also an artist in residence that was doing a sculpture of his own to go to his own home. He was carving out of Portuguese pink marble the torso and bottom of a voluptuous woman. Yowzer, did she have curves on her! You could tell that the sculptures loved women with curves because those kinds of figures made the most beautiful sculptures. And with the style and voracity we've been eating, all us ladies will be perfect models for these sculptures; we're awaiting their call any day...At the end of our tour, the lovely gentlemen sculpture who gave us a tour saw us to the door (as it seems all the lovely Italian men do) and handed me the most beautiful nugget of blue marble, called Lapiz, I've ever seen. I'm trying to figure out how to have it made into a piece of jewelry. Suggestions?
After we recovered from swooning at the sculpture studio, we hit the road to the coast to head back up north to Milan. And so, "La Mare", the sea. We decided that since we were so close to the sea and it was such a beautiful day, that we had to stop and have a cup of espresso by the sea. Such a majestic break!!
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| This is the view of the mountains from the sea shore! |
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| Looking out into the sea and the hills around the sea. |
The next morning was an early one. We had to head through rush hour traffic around Milan to the airport for our meeting point. Unfortunately, the dingbat behind the desk gave us incorrect driving instructions (told us to look for the signs for a city that DIDN'T have signs on our route). Sooooo, we drove through the city center of Milan when what would have been faster would be to skirt the entire outside of the Milan. Oh well. A 35-40 minute drive took twice as long. We still made it to the airport meeting point with plenty of time to drop off the rental car, meet our fourth partner in crime, Ruth, and get the buses to Turino for the opening ceremonies of Terra Madre: Slow Food.
Once we arrived to the Olympic Stadium, in Turino, we spent LOTS of time standing in lines to check in. In fact, Beth was spotted by a high school friend of hers! Her friend walked in the door of a building containing nearly 5,000 other people and she ran into her girlfriend from a land far, far away.
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| Ann Fitzgerald and Beth |
No sweat. The opening ceremonies began like the Olympic games. There was the flags of all the nations involved. The categorized them as five regions of the world and each region was introduced with a song sung by a native person from that land and a traditional song. Each region also had someone speak in their native tongue as well. The most amazing image was everyone in the stadium with their headset on hearing and understanding the speaker translated into their own language. It was like a UN meeting. Really amazing. As the camera panned the front row with Carlo Petrinni, you could see people sitting near him like Alice Water. How lovely, Alice came!!
Then, Carlo spoke. The moment everyone has been waiting for. Carlo gave a moving speech about the things that are important and how society has lost view of them: the worker, the farmer, the women, and the elderly. He illustrated that all the things that make a society work for the better and learn come from these 4 things and that if we worked to get back to these things, we could stop and reverse some of the debilitating damage that has begun. Quite a moving speech.
At this point in our day, we were all really tired. We wanted to go home, eat, and sleep. After an exquisitely long wait for our hotel bus to pull our, we arrived to our hotel, had a mediocre hotel meal (nothing really to even say) and flopped down in our beds.
This morning was a jolt: first, all 90 pounds of Ruth broke the toilet seat cover while she sat for a minute to tie her shoes in the bathroom this morning to run and then we learned mid-dress that the bus that was going to take us to the center at 9:30 was REALLY already here and was going to be leaving in 5-10 minutes. (Oh, you know, they decided to up the leaving time by and hour and a quarter and why tell anyone?!?) So, we hustled a breakfast and out the door we went.
On the bus ride to Turino (50 minutes) I discovered through having a choppy conversation with a man that there were a group of Italian singers from Sicily staying at our hotel and were on the bus with us. I continued my choppy conversations between many of them playing interpreter for the other Americans.
We arrived to Terra Madre. Inside the main building, they had a fabulous bizarre styled set up where a group from each country was selling traditional items. I got the most amazing felted wool necklace from a couple from Tajikistan and Ruth bought a beautiful shall from northern India. Then we headed to the Salon d' Gusto. Now THAT was amazing and sensory overload. The Salon d' Gusto is a huge set up of booths for businesses to sample the foods they make and to sell them. There were sections dedicated to each region of Italy and then they also had sections for all other parts of the world. We got to see a little Nona making hand rolled pasta that they cooked we then got to eat.
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| The "Nona" rolling the pasta. She's only a sprite 85 years old, wouldn't you say?!? |
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| Andah thennah we flippah de pasta!! |
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| Nona filling the pasta with teeny tiny hunks of a pureed filling of potatoes, tomatoes, and cheese. SOOOO good!! |
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| Such focus... |
What we DID know that was going to go better was our dinner this evening,compared to the humdrum from the night before. We went to the front desk and asked her to recommended a good restaurant in town and call a cab to pick us up. We got a bottle of wine while we waited and Lucca came to pick us up in good time. We got in the cab and confirmed with Lucca, our driver, the restaurant. He said in choppy English, "Yeah, buttah...Thattah place nottah sooah goodah. Eyahh knowah placeah in theah nextah townah." We had a good feeling about Lucca and put ourselves in his hands. He took us to a town over called Rivoli to a restaurant called Ristorante Nazionale. It is run by an older husband and wife team that makes traditional foods of the Piedmonte region. Lucca took good care of us. The food was comforting, "stick to your ribs", wonderfully made food!! Jeri had the gnocci in cream sauce for her first course, which I believe, you could pack into the woods for a 4 day journey and live off of it the whole time and never get hungry otherwise. Ruth got the smoked swordfish with porcini that was magical! Beth got the warm prawns with rock salad (arugula) and I got the pasta e fagioli. I couldn't help myself. I love seeing how other people make their pasta e fagioli. Everyone's is a tiny different. This one had fresh, wide pasta with a deep tan colored fagioli in it. The most wonderful part was the broth. I couldn't tell if it was made with meat for a base. The flavor was deep and the rich texture seemed like it was made with meat or perhaps it was just so rich! I don't know. For our main courses, Jeri got a combination of side plates of vegetables: roasted potatoes (phenomenal!), grilled chicory/radicchio (tasty, tasty!) and eggplant that was light and rich all at the same time. Beth and I got a pasta trio for two: spinach fettucini in a mushroom sauce, agnoletti in cream sauce, and meat filled raviolis. I voted the meat raviolis as the winner of the trio but Beth loved the agnoletti. Ruth got the minestrone of all minestrones. The meal wasn't as fancy as some of the other ones that we've had but the Nona e Papa of this place still get stars for the flavor fullness, hospitality, and overall comfort food quality of the meal.
We weren't done though! We had to have dessert. Ruth honed in on the wine and cinnamon poached pear (the size of Texas!), Jeri and Beth got the Zabaglione and English Sauce with biscotti and I got the tiramisu. The winner was the pear. You could taste the wine and cinnamon with subtle sweetness but the pear shone through and through with it's taste and texture. The other desserts were good, but the pear gets the prize.
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| The Poached Pear to end all Pears |
Tomorrow, tomorrow. Let's see what it brings!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Another day, another adventure, another bottle of wine.
Yesterday, we woke in Modena, with our car and with our wits about us.
For breakfast, there was the most amazing thing: an automatic orange juice maker. You put two oranges in the top of the hopper, it swirled around, down the slide and then there were rotating "hands" that pushed an orange at a time against a cutting edge that then dropped them into the squeezer and out came the juice. I dutifully announced, as a tacky American, "I want one in my kitchen!!" Besides having a spread of a traditional European breakfast of sliced meats, cheeses, breads, pastries, cereal and yogurt, they also had cookies. One, in particular, was a cookie that looked like a Milano cookie from Pepperidge Farms. Now, I know this sounds silly, but it never occurred to me that this cookie may have been named after a PLACE and the style of cookie made there, and that, someday, I might be near that city and run into the original cookie! I excitedly announced, again, like only an American would do, "You know, maybe the Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies were inspired by this cookie!!" Needless to say, I drank more coffee and put my head on straight and we went on our way.
Our first stop yesterday morning was to Balsamic Vinegar maker in the next town over. 'Next town over', you might say, 'No problem. Just a hop, skip and there you are'. Oh, don't be so American. Think like an Italian would. Think, "Nowa, letta me seeah. Sinceah it'sa onlyah 14 kilometres away froma the Hotella, lettsah make itah REEEALLLLYYYAHHH difficulta for tours to getta thereah."
We dutifully drove south from Modena and were told the balsamic maker was going to be right on the road that we were heading out on. We drove....Didn't see it....We drove a little more....Didn't see it....So, I pulled us over, found a (again) handsome man to spit out an Italian conversation with. As an aside, if you haven't noticed the pattern yet: we head to a new city, get hopelessly lost, I get out have a fabulously choppy conversation in Italian, with a beautiful man, we get the help we need, and we're on our way to our next extravagant meal. WE LOVE ITALY!! So, the lovely man gave us more specific instructions letting us know that we passed it already. We headed back that way, we found the main entrance with a stunning iron gate and brick wall - that was definitely locked. We could see the amazing villa behind the walls, but didn't see an entrance to get in! We drove BACK south to ask a local place where the entrance was. When we stopped in the pastry shop, all the Nona's having coffee didn't have any information for us, but one of them walked us to the newspaper stand next door because she figured he would know. Soooo, enter Stage Left: sparkly eyed man behind the counter with, who seemed to be, his father or other older gentlemen out in front of the counter chatting. Nona walked us in, told them what we were looking for, told fawn eyed boy to take good care of me (as she gently set her hand on my shoulder) and he called the phone number that we had for the balsamic maker (our cell phone number wasn't dialing through). Pretty eyed man gets the directions, gets off the phone, give Papa instructions to escort us while we followed in our car to the entrance because it's THAT hard to find from the road. In Italian, I kept hearing the newspaper vendor saying, "Go through these two traffic circles ("Rotundas" in Italian) and then 2 kilometers ("due kilometre") on the left, there will be two columns set back off the road ("due columne") and enter through there." So, we get in our car and follow Dad. I explained to my compatriots the plan of action with a hint of skepticism in my voice.
Well, I was wrong and Dad did a fine job! He led us right through the gates to the picturesque villa where the balsamic is made. What an amazing experience. First, he showed us where the grape must (juice) is simmered down to half it's original potency, then showed us the fermenting tank that the first fermentation takes place. Finally, he took us to the upper room where all the casks were where the final years (note the plural in year"s") where the vinegar continues. His balsamics stay in the casks for up to 20 years. The vinegars get moved to progressively smaller casks as they age and the water evaporates. Finally we tasted the finished product in his tasting room. What an complex and enjoyable flavor! We bought some of the "younger" balsamics that spend less time in the barrels, are less concentrated and therefor in our price range. Without a doubt, we will still enjoy them. We also bought preserves made from his sour cherries that he grows on the property, and other pickled products and jam. We all left happy. He recommended a local place for lunch right up the road in the direction we were heading. We were not to be disappointed there either! Beth's eye was caught by the array of yummy offerings on their salumi and vegetable buffet and Jeri ordered the margherita pizza while I set my heart on a calzone with cappicola, blue cheese, and eggplant. We also had a side of their fried potatoes from the potatoes they grow right on property at the restaurant. Such a meal! We hit the road towards the sea coast with our bellies happy and smiling.
The gentlemen at the house that made the balsamic vinegar suggested our route to the coast south through the mountains on the highway rather than through the mountains on smaller roads. At first we weren't sure if we would be able to see the beauty of the region from the route he suggested and were we WRONG!
The highway from Modena down to the coast cuts (literally) through the mountains and around them on a raised highway. So, you get to see all the gorgeous river valleys that you are crossing over and the mountains with the villas that you are passing through. The tunnels through the mountains with the hairpin turns around the mountains make it feel like you are in a chase scene through a James Bond movie (sans Sean Connery). We had a perfectly sunny day down to the sea. We arrived to the city by the sea, Carrara with a touch of time to spare before dinner, since the Italians eat so stinking late! Not a worry. We three strolled the marble lined streets of Carrara in style: a gelato! One must do as the locals. We enjoyed the local piazzas with the gnarly old tree, vistas of the marble kissed mountains behind, and the children riding the funniest little bikes that you propel by pushing the pedals with your feet.
This evenings place of dining had been suggested by the chef in Modena: The Magnolia at Hotel Byron. Hotel Byron is a few cities over in Forte di Marmi. After a 40 minute drive along the sea and getting only a little lost, we arrived to the hotel and were greeted by posh style and ambiance. White linen service was the order of the evening (down to pulling out chairs and opening the door for me to the bathroom). The meal was another championing fete of cuisine. We let the waiter know that they had been recommended by the other chef (they turned out to be good friends). The chef, in turn, sent out a dish of tuna tartare with micro greens, a drizzle of olive oil, and a crostini. What a "melt in your mouth" treat. The whole dish was perfect. The tuna had the taste of the sea while being buttery good and perfect on the crunchy toast. They also started our evening out with spelt cracker, puffed rice with saffron, and tiny crackers (that they called biscuits but pronounces "Bisquits"). The pronunciation was positively entertaining.
Jeri ordered the "Pici" which was a dish of a kind of spaghetti and vegetables in a tantalizing broth. It was a treat to be a veggie that evening. Beth ordered the anchovies on corn bread and dried capers while I tried my hand at the spaghetti with seafood. On the menu, my dish was simply described as that with a further detail of being garnished with fresh herbs and olive oil. The loveliest surprise was the seafood that ended up with my pasta (what was fresh at the port that day): teeny-tiny snails! When they put the dish down in front of me, I look at the dish and thought, "Perhaps I need my glasses, but I think I see little heads with antennae in my food. All I could think to myself was the joke of the customer screaming to the french waiter, 'Waiter! What is this fly doing in my soup?!?' To his query the snooty waiter replies, 'Zee Backstroke!' I fully enjoyed the moment and tucked right into my dish of "lovely, little friends". And were they lovely! Again, the gentle taste of the sea with their tender texture were dynamite. Beth's anchovies had that perfect salty-brininess paired with a corn bread that made it balanced all the way through. But I've been saving the description of Jeri's dish for last in this course because I think it was the winner! Such a simple dish of vegetables and pasta in a broth, so ofter, gets passed over, tossed around as ho-hum, and is almost never anything to write home about. Well, I'm writing home about it. Mark your calendars: this "Pici" was delici! Everything was on the money. All the veggies were bright and seasoned, pasta cooked perfect and the broth- and the broth! That was the secret: a broth that knocks your socks off. Flavor, flavor, flavor. A show stopper.
For our main course, Jeri ordered a dish of eight cheese paired with different preserves (of course!!), Beth ordered the prawn with caviar and croquettes and I (falling to my weakness) got the suckling pig (not the whole thing! Just a beautiful cross cut). The cheeses were a magnificent reflection of all the different animals and styles of cheese in the region were were traveling through. The complimenting preserve with each successive cheese made the plate. Beth's prawns could not have been more perfectly poached. When they were setting this courses' silverware, (remember, that white linen thing I mentioned? All the courses, all that silverware!!) they set a sauce spoon down at Beth's setting and she asked me if she was getting a flaky fish to use it on. I replied that I thought she was going to get a sauce. Did she ever. The plates came out (wave service, of course!). and Beth's plate was set in front of her and then the back waiter came by with a little, steaming pitcher which he gracefully poured over the entire contents of the dish. The golden broth did the trick. It blessed the entire plate. The caviar with the prawns in the broth were magical and the croquettes...Well, croquettes don't need an apology. You simply fall in love with the fluffy potato inside with a crispy salty outside. My little piggy went to the market and didn't come back...And I'm not sorry in the least. Porky was well loved on my plate. He was shown the utmost respect from pan to plate. I received a cross cut in the middle of the rib (boneless) and had all the good parts. Tenderloin on the inside, loin around that, and the belly tucked neatly underneath. Rosemary and sage were still clinging around him on my plate. I've saved the last part of the Porkies' description for last: the skin. Some of the fat under the skin had rendered and the skin was left to, possibly, the most golden and crisp ever. No really, the skin was so perfectly crispy, it was actually difficult to bite into, so I decided a trip to the dentist didn't need to added to our blog. Porky came with shaved roasted hearts of artichoke which made my heart go "pitter patter". Artichokes really make me happy and roasted come right up there with fried and they did not disappoint.
We ordered desserts of meringue with strawberry ice cream and strawberry sauce, pear with chocolate mousse, and pistachio nougat with orange gelato. Our lovely waiter graced each of us with a glass of Vin Santo to go with dinner. All three desserts were divine but the nougat stole the show. Yowzers. Such a perfect, fluffy, yummy nougat had never before been had.
The plate of cookies that they brought out to cap the evening off has some bigger winners that others. I loved the peach mousse and the chocolate truffle with coconut filling. Jeri was a big fan of the lemon tartlette and the marzipan chocolate. While Beth and I don't like marzipan, she gravitated to the chocolate mousse among others.
The whole of the evening was another winner. The drive to find our hotel, while still enjoyable was not. We quickly got our way back to the city of Carrara. Our hotel was in the heart of Carrara and at some moment, we voted on turning on what we thought was the street to our hotel. Instead, we got a beautiful, meandering driving night tour of, what we believe, was every nook and cranny of the city marble built. Not a drop of sweat in that car. We chatted, hypothesized on where each street might spit us out onto, laughed, and wondered where the parking lot was that we wanted to park in. We celebrated the small victory of finding our preferred parking lot, got to the hotel and promptly flopped down in each of our respective beds and slept like marble statues. All in a day's work!!
More tomorrow on the tour of the marble sculpture's studio and another picturesque view of the drive up the coast and through the mountains tomorrow.
Buone Notte!!
For breakfast, there was the most amazing thing: an automatic orange juice maker. You put two oranges in the top of the hopper, it swirled around, down the slide and then there were rotating "hands" that pushed an orange at a time against a cutting edge that then dropped them into the squeezer and out came the juice. I dutifully announced, as a tacky American, "I want one in my kitchen!!" Besides having a spread of a traditional European breakfast of sliced meats, cheeses, breads, pastries, cereal and yogurt, they also had cookies. One, in particular, was a cookie that looked like a Milano cookie from Pepperidge Farms. Now, I know this sounds silly, but it never occurred to me that this cookie may have been named after a PLACE and the style of cookie made there, and that, someday, I might be near that city and run into the original cookie! I excitedly announced, again, like only an American would do, "You know, maybe the Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies were inspired by this cookie!!" Needless to say, I drank more coffee and put my head on straight and we went on our way.
Our first stop yesterday morning was to Balsamic Vinegar maker in the next town over. 'Next town over', you might say, 'No problem. Just a hop, skip and there you are'. Oh, don't be so American. Think like an Italian would. Think, "Nowa, letta me seeah. Sinceah it'sa onlyah 14 kilometres away froma the Hotella, lettsah make itah REEEALLLLYYYAHHH difficulta for tours to getta thereah."
We dutifully drove south from Modena and were told the balsamic maker was going to be right on the road that we were heading out on. We drove....Didn't see it....We drove a little more....Didn't see it....So, I pulled us over, found a (again) handsome man to spit out an Italian conversation with. As an aside, if you haven't noticed the pattern yet: we head to a new city, get hopelessly lost, I get out have a fabulously choppy conversation in Italian, with a beautiful man, we get the help we need, and we're on our way to our next extravagant meal. WE LOVE ITALY!! So, the lovely man gave us more specific instructions letting us know that we passed it already. We headed back that way, we found the main entrance with a stunning iron gate and brick wall - that was definitely locked. We could see the amazing villa behind the walls, but didn't see an entrance to get in! We drove BACK south to ask a local place where the entrance was. When we stopped in the pastry shop, all the Nona's having coffee didn't have any information for us, but one of them walked us to the newspaper stand next door because she figured he would know. Soooo, enter Stage Left: sparkly eyed man behind the counter with, who seemed to be, his father or other older gentlemen out in front of the counter chatting. Nona walked us in, told them what we were looking for, told fawn eyed boy to take good care of me (as she gently set her hand on my shoulder) and he called the phone number that we had for the balsamic maker (our cell phone number wasn't dialing through). Pretty eyed man gets the directions, gets off the phone, give Papa instructions to escort us while we followed in our car to the entrance because it's THAT hard to find from the road. In Italian, I kept hearing the newspaper vendor saying, "Go through these two traffic circles ("Rotundas" in Italian) and then 2 kilometers ("due kilometre") on the left, there will be two columns set back off the road ("due columne") and enter through there." So, we get in our car and follow Dad. I explained to my compatriots the plan of action with a hint of skepticism in my voice.
Well, I was wrong and Dad did a fine job! He led us right through the gates to the picturesque villa where the balsamic is made. What an amazing experience. First, he showed us where the grape must (juice) is simmered down to half it's original potency, then showed us the fermenting tank that the first fermentation takes place. Finally, he took us to the upper room where all the casks were where the final years (note the plural in year"s") where the vinegar continues. His balsamics stay in the casks for up to 20 years. The vinegars get moved to progressively smaller casks as they age and the water evaporates. Finally we tasted the finished product in his tasting room. What an complex and enjoyable flavor! We bought some of the "younger" balsamics that spend less time in the barrels, are less concentrated and therefor in our price range. Without a doubt, we will still enjoy them. We also bought preserves made from his sour cherries that he grows on the property, and other pickled products and jam. We all left happy. He recommended a local place for lunch right up the road in the direction we were heading. We were not to be disappointed there either! Beth's eye was caught by the array of yummy offerings on their salumi and vegetable buffet and Jeri ordered the margherita pizza while I set my heart on a calzone with cappicola, blue cheese, and eggplant. We also had a side of their fried potatoes from the potatoes they grow right on property at the restaurant. Such a meal! We hit the road towards the sea coast with our bellies happy and smiling.
The gentlemen at the house that made the balsamic vinegar suggested our route to the coast south through the mountains on the highway rather than through the mountains on smaller roads. At first we weren't sure if we would be able to see the beauty of the region from the route he suggested and were we WRONG!
The highway from Modena down to the coast cuts (literally) through the mountains and around them on a raised highway. So, you get to see all the gorgeous river valleys that you are crossing over and the mountains with the villas that you are passing through. The tunnels through the mountains with the hairpin turns around the mountains make it feel like you are in a chase scene through a James Bond movie (sans Sean Connery). We had a perfectly sunny day down to the sea. We arrived to the city by the sea, Carrara with a touch of time to spare before dinner, since the Italians eat so stinking late! Not a worry. We three strolled the marble lined streets of Carrara in style: a gelato! One must do as the locals. We enjoyed the local piazzas with the gnarly old tree, vistas of the marble kissed mountains behind, and the children riding the funniest little bikes that you propel by pushing the pedals with your feet.
This evenings place of dining had been suggested by the chef in Modena: The Magnolia at Hotel Byron. Hotel Byron is a few cities over in Forte di Marmi. After a 40 minute drive along the sea and getting only a little lost, we arrived to the hotel and were greeted by posh style and ambiance. White linen service was the order of the evening (down to pulling out chairs and opening the door for me to the bathroom). The meal was another championing fete of cuisine. We let the waiter know that they had been recommended by the other chef (they turned out to be good friends). The chef, in turn, sent out a dish of tuna tartare with micro greens, a drizzle of olive oil, and a crostini. What a "melt in your mouth" treat. The whole dish was perfect. The tuna had the taste of the sea while being buttery good and perfect on the crunchy toast. They also started our evening out with spelt cracker, puffed rice with saffron, and tiny crackers (that they called biscuits but pronounces "Bisquits"). The pronunciation was positively entertaining.
Jeri ordered the "Pici" which was a dish of a kind of spaghetti and vegetables in a tantalizing broth. It was a treat to be a veggie that evening. Beth ordered the anchovies on corn bread and dried capers while I tried my hand at the spaghetti with seafood. On the menu, my dish was simply described as that with a further detail of being garnished with fresh herbs and olive oil. The loveliest surprise was the seafood that ended up with my pasta (what was fresh at the port that day): teeny-tiny snails! When they put the dish down in front of me, I look at the dish and thought, "Perhaps I need my glasses, but I think I see little heads with antennae in my food. All I could think to myself was the joke of the customer screaming to the french waiter, 'Waiter! What is this fly doing in my soup?!?' To his query the snooty waiter replies, 'Zee Backstroke!' I fully enjoyed the moment and tucked right into my dish of "lovely, little friends". And were they lovely! Again, the gentle taste of the sea with their tender texture were dynamite. Beth's anchovies had that perfect salty-brininess paired with a corn bread that made it balanced all the way through. But I've been saving the description of Jeri's dish for last in this course because I think it was the winner! Such a simple dish of vegetables and pasta in a broth, so ofter, gets passed over, tossed around as ho-hum, and is almost never anything to write home about. Well, I'm writing home about it. Mark your calendars: this "Pici" was delici! Everything was on the money. All the veggies were bright and seasoned, pasta cooked perfect and the broth- and the broth! That was the secret: a broth that knocks your socks off. Flavor, flavor, flavor. A show stopper.
For our main course, Jeri ordered a dish of eight cheese paired with different preserves (of course!!), Beth ordered the prawn with caviar and croquettes and I (falling to my weakness) got the suckling pig (not the whole thing! Just a beautiful cross cut). The cheeses were a magnificent reflection of all the different animals and styles of cheese in the region were were traveling through. The complimenting preserve with each successive cheese made the plate. Beth's prawns could not have been more perfectly poached. When they were setting this courses' silverware, (remember, that white linen thing I mentioned? All the courses, all that silverware!!) they set a sauce spoon down at Beth's setting and she asked me if she was getting a flaky fish to use it on. I replied that I thought she was going to get a sauce. Did she ever. The plates came out (wave service, of course!). and Beth's plate was set in front of her and then the back waiter came by with a little, steaming pitcher which he gracefully poured over the entire contents of the dish. The golden broth did the trick. It blessed the entire plate. The caviar with the prawns in the broth were magical and the croquettes...Well, croquettes don't need an apology. You simply fall in love with the fluffy potato inside with a crispy salty outside. My little piggy went to the market and didn't come back...And I'm not sorry in the least. Porky was well loved on my plate. He was shown the utmost respect from pan to plate. I received a cross cut in the middle of the rib (boneless) and had all the good parts. Tenderloin on the inside, loin around that, and the belly tucked neatly underneath. Rosemary and sage were still clinging around him on my plate. I've saved the last part of the Porkies' description for last: the skin. Some of the fat under the skin had rendered and the skin was left to, possibly, the most golden and crisp ever. No really, the skin was so perfectly crispy, it was actually difficult to bite into, so I decided a trip to the dentist didn't need to added to our blog. Porky came with shaved roasted hearts of artichoke which made my heart go "pitter patter". Artichokes really make me happy and roasted come right up there with fried and they did not disappoint.
We ordered desserts of meringue with strawberry ice cream and strawberry sauce, pear with chocolate mousse, and pistachio nougat with orange gelato. Our lovely waiter graced each of us with a glass of Vin Santo to go with dinner. All three desserts were divine but the nougat stole the show. Yowzers. Such a perfect, fluffy, yummy nougat had never before been had.
The plate of cookies that they brought out to cap the evening off has some bigger winners that others. I loved the peach mousse and the chocolate truffle with coconut filling. Jeri was a big fan of the lemon tartlette and the marzipan chocolate. While Beth and I don't like marzipan, she gravitated to the chocolate mousse among others.
The whole of the evening was another winner. The drive to find our hotel, while still enjoyable was not. We quickly got our way back to the city of Carrara. Our hotel was in the heart of Carrara and at some moment, we voted on turning on what we thought was the street to our hotel. Instead, we got a beautiful, meandering driving night tour of, what we believe, was every nook and cranny of the city marble built. Not a drop of sweat in that car. We chatted, hypothesized on where each street might spit us out onto, laughed, and wondered where the parking lot was that we wanted to park in. We celebrated the small victory of finding our preferred parking lot, got to the hotel and promptly flopped down in each of our respective beds and slept like marble statues. All in a day's work!!
More tomorrow on the tour of the marble sculpture's studio and another picturesque view of the drive up the coast and through the mountains tomorrow.
Buone Notte!!
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| Beautiful Doors to a Church in Parma |
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| Tuna Tartare |
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| Say Hello to My Little Friend, Mr. Snail!! |
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| Delici "Pici" |
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| Anchovies on corn bread with a swipe of capers |
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| A flight of cheeses with preserves and honey |
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| Perfectly poached prawns with caviar, croquettes, and broth |
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| Roasted suckling pig with roasted artichoke hearts |
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| Pear with chocolate mousse |
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| Pistachio nougat with orange gelato |
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| The bursting pomegranate from the Pomegranate tree at the villa of the Balsamic Vinegar maker |
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| The fermentation take with the foamy "Mother" on top. He lifted "Mother's Slip" to let us peak underneath! Oh MY! |
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| The different aged and sized barrels of balsamic vinegar in process |
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| All the different jars of products he has in his tasting room |
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| The vinegar maker with Liz next to a retired barrel used for wine |
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| The view of the cherry trees from the villa |
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| The little boy in the piazza with the foot treadled bike. |
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| The setting sun lighting the marble kissed mountains ablaze in the fading light. |
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