Welcome back for “Day 3” of a recap of my recent “bucket list” vacation to the Tuscan region of Italy.  The memories flow back to me as I write this column each week, and I hope you are enjoying the trip so far.  I hope you’ll stick around each week until we reach the end.  Let’s get started on another day in the Tuscan countryside!

Day 3:  A Farm Tour, “Light Lunch”, and Our First Dinner in a “Real” Italian Restaurant

I awoke early, showered, and milled around the village as the sun rose, exploring some of the narrow streets and cobblestone walkways of our medieval hamlet of Castelmuzio.  Only the fluttering of pigeons could be heard as the sun streaked down through the buildings, looking for ways to reach the ground.  I quietly took some pictures, having the town to myself this early in the morning.  It was like being on a deserted movie set.

I attempted to make my first Italian coffee this morning, using a traditional “moka”.  The small, five-sided metal coffee maker comes in three pieces – water goes in the bottom, coffee is packed into the metal filter, and then the brew chamber is screwed on top.  I put it all together, popped it onto the flame of the stove and in a few minutes, I was drinking my first Italian espresso from a tiny cup on the terrace.  Quite strong, but with a touch of sugar – not bad.

This morning, we are touring the Moricciani family’s “real” working farm (not the agriturismo), located in nearby Pienza.  It’s called Podere San Gregorio, and although it is advertised as being on the “edge” of town, I would consider it actually “in” town, though on the outskirts.  The family owns over 200 acres, spread across multiple fields in the area (Cretaiole being just one location).  The rest of our group assembled and we were again warmly greeted by Carlotta.  We also met Marta, the other assistant, who was just as warm and friendly as Carlotta (though much younger).

We were then introduced to the patriarch of the Moricciani family – Carlo’s father, Luciano.  He came out, totally relaxed, dressed in an untucked shirt and blue jeans.  White-haired and tan from years in the fields, 77-year old Luciano instantly reminded me of my farming uncles, Preston Shupp and Edwin Barnes.  They even had the same walk!  Luciano came around and greeted each one of us.  He speaks very little English, but as I have discovered about seemingly all Italians, he will have an entire exchange with you where he just speaks in Italian (and you kind of figure out what’s going on after a while through body language and hand gestures).  He was so charming and down to earth – definitely the soul of a farmer – and he had farmer’s hands.  Thick, calloused, and rough – Luciano has seen some hard work in his lifetime.  I should probably also point out here that Luciano is quite the operator, charming all of the females in our party with a witty smile, wink, or wry smile.  It was like hanging out with an Italian version of Cary Grant or George Clooney.

With Carlotta translating, Luciano told us about the history of the farm and its buildings.  The main house dates back over 500 years, and they even found Roman ruins at the site during renovation work.  Throughout the building’s history, it has been a convent, stables, and now a farmhouse.  Even though the main structure has been renovated and added to over the years, the same local stone and the same building techniques have been used, making the changes almost imperceptible.

Luciano was born in 1940 and didn’t meet his own father until he was four years old (due to World War II).  The Tuscan region saw lots of bloodshed during that time, and Luciano stated that if you “ask anyone with white hair”, they will tell you (with reverence) of their gratitude towards Americans, many of whom never left Italian soil.

We then followed Luciano as he gave us an extensive tour of the farm and its operation, both today and how it was done when he was a boy.  There was great pride in Luciano’s voice as he showed the group how they grind their own flour, harvest the grapes, wheat, and fava beans, as well as care for the animals.  There seems to be a great respect and dignity for the hard work of farming in this region.  Farmers are recognized as true and essential artisans, and their finished products now get the honor (and prices) that their handmade toil demands.

We learned about the wheat harvest, making prosciutto, olive oil, wine, vinsanto (a dessert wine – like port), and  – Luciano’s specialty – grappa (think Italian moonshine).  Luciano told us that if we had our picture taken holding his hand on top of a barrel of aging vinsanto, it was a sure sign that we were destined to one day return.  Of course – we complied!

Following the tour, we all gathered for what was described as a “light lunch”.  We sat down at a long communal table, and Carlotta and Marta began plunking down platters of food before us to share family-style.  There was fresh bread drizzled generously with olive oil (made onsite).  There was salad with fresh garden vegetables, cured meats, fresh tomato slices topped with cheese and basil, pepperoni bread, and all to be washed down with multiple bottles of red and white wine from the family cellars.

Luciano reappeared, refilling glasses of wine, offering toasts of “Salute!” and tempting us with more bread, this time drizzled with heavenly truffle oil.  Other family members came in and out, the family dog joined us to beg for snacks from the table, and a room full of strangers was quickly becoming friends.  The food and conversation went on and on.  Small dessert cakes appeared, and Luciano broke out the vinsanto.  More toasts – more conversation.  The table was buzzing with laughter, joy, and happiness.  It had been over two hours.  A most memorable lunch!

We returned to Castelmuzio on another level.  This was no ordinary vacation.  An afternoon nap was in order, and we awoke refreshed and ready to head back to Pienza for dinner at our first “real” Italian restaurant.  We had some time to kill, so Leigh and I walked the promenade, window shopped, and took in the atmosphere as the locals took their evening strolls along the narrow cobblestone streets.  The views from the high wall behind the church out over the valley were stunning, and Leigh and I sat on a bench – watching the sun set on our right and the moon rise into the clear night sky on our left.

It was almost 7:30 p.m., so we ventured down a side street and found our restaurant, the small and quaint Trattoria da Fiorella.  We entered and were greeted with a warm “Bona Serra” (“good evening”).  Determined to try to speak Italian, I repeated back the greeting, along with “Abbiamo una prenotatzione” (“we have a reservation”).  We were shown to our table and given menus and water to start, along with a basket of bread.

The trattoria only sat about twenty-two people, with room on a small balcony upstairs for maybe four more.  It was intimate, it was inviting – it was perfect.  The waiter returned and spoke to us in fluent English, but I still responded in Italian where I could (as did Leigh).  We placed out orders for antipasti, primo (first course), and secondi (second course), and the waiter asked us if we cared for any wine.

“Che cosa raccomanda?” came my reply (“what do you recommend?”).

He suggested a Vino Nobile from Montepulciano.  It was outstanding.  Then, the appetizers arrived.  Leigh had a polenta topped with a ragout of local mushrooms and creamed pecorino cheese.  I had a trio of bruschettas topped with pate, cheese, and mushrooms (respectively) – along with slices of parma ham.  The primo (first) courses came next, Leigh having a tagliatelle pasta with a rich sauce made from wild boar while I opted for local pici pasta served with a sauce made of mushroom, tomato, and local sausage.  Both were excellent.  I continued on to the secondi (second) course, large chunks of wild boar served in a rich gravy.  The wine paired perfectly with each course.  For dessert, we shared a panna cotta (custard) topped with crushed biscotti cookies and an amaretto sauce, as well as two espressos.

In an Italian restaurant, the table is yours for the evening, so after a leisurely dinner and a few hours later, I asked for the bill (“Il conto, per favore”), we paid our check, and departed arm in arm onto the quiet streets of Pienza.

The curvy roads take on a much more sinister air at night, but we made it safely back to Castelmuzio, another perfect day spent in the Tuscan countryside.

 

NEXT WEEK:  Day 4 – A Tour of Siena and a Glimpse of Italian TV