A Taste of Tuscany
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| Tuscany |
My brother Tino and I
joined my sister Lolly in celebrating her 50th birthday with her dream of a week
of cooking lessons in Tuscany. Under the auspices of the Rhodes School of
Cuisine, we stayed in the Villa Lucia in the tiny village of Vorno, just
southeast of Lucca. The 15th century villa was lovely – all you’d want it to be:
fountains, grape arbors, formal gardens, swimming pools, huge rosemary bushes,
wonderfully scented lemon trees, rustic yet comfortable rooms, and 2
state-of-the-art teaching kitchens.
The group of about 20
was split between 2 chefs. Our chef was the very charming, very handsome, and
very talented Giancarlo. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he becomes FoodTV’s
next big star . What delicious food he prepared -- everything from pizza,
gnocchi, pasta, osso buco, lasagna, panzanella and bistecca fiorentina to
drop-dead fabulous versions of gelato, tiramisu and molten chocolate cake. What
I came back with in particular was how versatile the sauces are – and what a
good idea it is to keep supplies of homemade broth, tomato sauce, sauce
Bolognese and our hands-down favorite vin santo sauce on hand to mix and
match.
Several field trips,
all with major food components, were organized to towns and villages in the
surrounding countryside. We went to nearby Pistoia on its colorful market day
and took advantage of the opportunity to support the Italian economy by
purchasing large quantities of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey and parmesan
cheese. We spent a full day in Lucca and had plenty of time to visit its
wonderful wedding-cake churches, walk the entire circuit of the town wall, and
dine at the famous Buca di San Antonio.
We had quite an
adventure on “Chef’s Day Off.” Claudio, the other chef and self-proclaimed “food
terrorist,” invited the Santini siblings to join him on a trip to Orvieto, where
he had to conduct some business. If you look on a map, you’ll think we were nuts
for going – Orvieto is nowheres near Lucca. We took off at the crack of dawn and
arrived at Orvieto around 11:00. While Claudio saw to his affairs we had time
for visits to the splendid cathedral and the archaeological museum (fellow
Associates – my MFA Staff card got me in for free) as well as a walk around
town.
We had a long leisurely
lunch with Claudio and his associates (one the manager of a vineyard, the other
the manager of a hotel restaurant near Assisi) in the shadow of the Cathedral.
It was outstanding – antipasto, salad, tagliatella tartufo, bistecca fiorentina,
grilled veggies, and a selection of local cheeses. For dinner, we decided to go
to Assisi and dine at the associate’s restaurant. We got to Assisi just in time
to see the Basilica before it closed.
Then we started the
loooong trip to the “nearby” hotel. We drove for a full hour and a half up and
down hills, getting further and further away from any sign of civilization, on
roads that quickly deteriorated from one lane to unpaved to barely discernible
tracks. Each of us confessed afterwards that we’d had some pretty scary
“Deliverance” thoughts.
We finally arrived at
the Hotel Silva, a small isolated gem of a hotel designed for rich people who
want to get away from it all. We had cocktails and hor d’ouevres (home-cured
duck, lemony fried baby artichokes, and herbed goat cheese) on the terrace as we
watched dusk fall. This wasn’t a spectacular sunset, but rather a quiet
breathtaking swirl of colors as the hills moved through a progressive range of
greens, blue-greens, grey-blue-greens, and lavenders into deep purple. And what
a meal it was – aside from my grandmother’s feasts, THE BEST MEAL any of us has
ever had. It was orchestrated beautifully, a symphony of complimentary and
contrasting textures, flavors, and colors. There was a tiny portion of a
lemon-tomato soup; miniscule veal meatballs; venison/chiana beef tartare;
ravioli with wild broccoli, squab ragout and fried squab; goat cheese ice cream;
roast suckling pig with a ginger/lemongrass/kaffir lime caramel sauce; lemon
mousse with strawberry gel; and pineapple pancotta with fried lime peel. We
could barely touch the plate of exquisite petit fours that finished the meal. We
didn’t get back until 2 AM but we were in complete agreement that the trip had
been well worth the lost sleep.
The real highlight of
the trip, however, was our visit to Fondagno, the isolated mountain village in
the middle of nowhere in which my beloved grandfather spent his childhood. You
need a very detailed map to find it, as it consists of 15 houses, a church, and
a cemetery. The house Grandpa was born in (address: 5 Fondagno), dating to 1633,
still stands. I have a whole new insight into the Santinis, the family lore of
the old country, and the emigration saga we would beg him to recount to us. This
is the place on earth I’ve most wanted to visit, and I’m delighted Tino and
Lolly were with me when I finally got there.