Sunday

In the face of rain and a valley full of mist, they bussed us on Sunday out to Lago Trasimeno for a day on a local agritourismo. They fed us a traditional breakfast of bruschetta (in this case, il panino commune and olive oil only) a a drop of red wine. We got a tour of the oil pressing process, some more orientation information, and a demonstration by several local nonne of how to make fresh pasta from the farm eggs and semolina flour. The watching them roll out the pasta dough reminded me of pounding out tortillas on my counter at home; it takes a similar kind of pressure, though I think the dough is a little more responsive. Il pranzo (lunch) lasted over two hours and everything served came directly from the farm or wild from the land around it. We started with the pasta they had earlier showed us followed by a delicious bean dish, a local specialty. I wish I could remember any of the names of what we had, but they washed right over me all day. Apparently though, the beans grow wild and are very difficult to process; they have to be separated and processed entirely by hand. They come in a range of about fifty different colors, each color with its own slightly unique flavor. The soup was very simple with a crusty piece of bread to soak up the salty broth. I tried to figure out what the seasoning was. At first I thought it was something like fennel, but then my dinner mates pointed out that it could have been something unique to the beans themselves. It was truly a full-experience food because I definitely found that I started at one flavor and ended up somewhere completely different by the time I swallowed. For il secondo (second course, usually some kind of meat or fish) they served a homemade sausage in the same beef sauce served with the pasta. I don't think I have ever liked sausage as much as I did then. It was so delicious and fell apart with the touch of a fork. The people I was sitting with were very concerned with thinking about the pig that made the sausage. Instead, I found myself satisfied that I knew exactly where that pig had come from and how it had been raised. It really bothered me less than thinking about what is in some of the bratwurst and pepperoni I have eaten before. All this was of course accompanied by homemade red wine (excellent). For dessert we ate a traditional kind of rum cake with a very special dessert wine (again, I wish I could remember the names). The wine was a very sweet and strong red reserved usually for Easter only, but they opened it special for us. After dinner drinks, even wine are always served in small shot-glass sized cups. And a tiny amount of this wine was certainly all I could have managed. When we studied the food chapter in my Italian class last semester I wondered how they could possibly go through the whole series: l'antipasto, il primo, il secondo, e il dolce. But if you draw the whole thing out over that many hours with wine, conversation, and rest in between, it is perfect (body warm, heart warm). I think we Americans need to observe and learn to adapt our Thanksgiving accordingly.

I think though, that my greatest impression was one of earthly simplicity. Ours hosts were very warm and kind people who took their holiday (Feast of the Epiphany, the last day of the Christmas celebrations in Italy) to put on a wonderful day for us. I loved feeling the rich heartiness of the food and the work that I know went behind its trip from the field beyond to the plate in front of me. And I am learning that even the Italians in the city maintain that sensibility about their palate. They go the to the grocery store every few days and only buy small amounts (COSTCO would not do well here, I am sure). You only buy about 3 etti of prosciutto at a time (about enough for three hearty or four normal panini) because they eat it fresh and won't leave it sitting in the refrigerator more than a day or two. The way the stores are open, it is very simple to walk past your local grocer on your way home in the evening to buy what you need for dinner that night. This would be easier if I weren't cooking only for one, but it is something I am trying to adapt to.

After writing this, I realize that I need to branch out in terms of what I have been cooking. So far it has been a variety of combinations of tomatoes (not good this time of year, note to self), garlic, onions, olive oil, mozarella, and bread or pasta. I want to try to get together with people to cook meals as I know some other houses are doing. I don't think it is necessarily going to work with my roommates, but I hope that I can pitch in and work with some other people as I meet them. I visited the covered market today, the place for fresh food. I hit the end and only a few fruit and veggie vendors were still open. When my schedule is more fixed I am going to try to work in my shopping there. They are open only in the morning and I think the earlier you go, the better it is. I will check that out more this weekend or next week when I don't have three hours of Italian class starting at nine.

On that note, I recommend fresh bruschetta with garlic and tomatoes, bake with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, and don't kiss your significant other afterward. (I feel like I ate nothing but garlic today).

Homemade pasta






Jugs of olive oil, best I have ever tasted.



Rolling out pasta