Eating and Drinking the Wild

Good morning! We got an extra hour of sleep, since the end of ora legale happened overnight. Daylight Savings Time finished here. What a treat, getting more time this morning.

As much as lolling over coffee in my PJs sounded heavenly, I wanted to walk to Scandura to buy a bottle of Ca' del Bosco for our hosts today. Although the cost tilts close to €40, I am honored to be invited to this event. It's the host's birthday, for one, and it wouldn't hurt to make Giuseppe Uno proud to bring appreciative guests. Besides, where can you go for wine, bubbly, more wine, digestivi, hand-picked wild herbs, chestnuts, and porcini mushrooms; three meat courses, wood-fired French fries, cheese, artisan bread, cake, biscotti di morti in every flavor, caffè, and a specialty gelato -- al aperto in a beautiful hillside vineyard-- for €20 per person? Totally worth the price of the bubbly.

Gas here, not so much. Don't be fooled by the price. It's per liter, making it around $6/gallon. That's probably Biden's fault.

We met up with Vincenzo and Alberto Scandura, who always greet us warmly. Alberto helped me with the wine, suggesting a different Franciacorta producer. I asked for it chilled; it's a gift, I explained. I said we'll take our caffè while they wrap it up. I remembered Elena said the biscotti di morti were good here, so I took a quick look at the chocolate station. Alberto followed me, telling the associate to let me taste the biscotto of my choice. Of course, I chose pistachio, and it was magnificent. And huge. I slot it with Joe. I ordered a small tray of a couple of each variety, to wrap and bring to Mariella and Vincenzo.

We had our fortifying caffè, which were also on the house, paid for the wine and the gift biscotti, and strolled home.

The beer ledge along the way is empty again. I think my mystery drunkard is dead.

Again; no beer bottles lined up

I enjoy the view down via Matteotti toward the belvedere

I stopped at the 2nd floor elevator entrance to Mariella's kitchen, to drop off the biscotti. She sampled the chocolate one right away, her eyes rolling back into her head the way my brother-in-law's do when he's eating something scrumptious. Elena was there in her pajamas, so the three of us sat and chatted. Mariella randomly brought up the "plastic candy" (gummy candy) from the party yesterday, saying the kids ate the whole one-chilo bag. She (nor I) understand the affection for that disgusting texture and taste!

I changed clothes three times, finally "dressing like an onion," since the day was to be warm, but we were heading to higher altitudes, where it can get brisk.

Elena, who was going to stay home with the boys, decided to join us after all. Off to Piero and Antonietta's party!

Italians joke about the American "lean"--we always find a wall or a column to hold up.

We were warmly greeted by everyone, including -- I forgot her name already-- Piera? who recognized me from my spring visit; I ate sushi together with her, Elena, and some of their friends. Her husband Pippo is charming.

Piero, the host, is celebrating his 55th birthday. His daughter Elisa, is a sweetheart; she and her boyfriend spent a long time in conversation with us. Elisa was a 1-year exchange student in Indianapolis a couple of years ago. Her English is pretty good.

Piero makes his own (very good) wine, which was flowing today. He had picked earlier some wild herbs, porcini mushrooms, and chestnuts, all of which were cooked in the wood-fired outdoor oven. At his own birthday party, he kept running back and forth, depositing fire-cooked goodness, one course after the other, onto the table. 

Shortly before we sat down to eat, Sara, a friend of Piero and Antonietta's, came in. She is 1000% energy; bustling, loud, a force of nature. She rapid-fired questions at me; I tried to keep up. She is fun, and the multiple courses flew by in conversation.

As we lingered in the warm outside air, talking to Pippo and Piero, Elena came to us from the house, "Go inside now. Sara is asking for you. For some reason, she loves you," she said, in her back-handed compliment mode.

A chair was pulled against the wall; I was instructed to sit.

"Is this a dunce chair?" I asked Elena. 

No; Sara put on a song and asked Piero and Antonietta to dance for all of us. Their song. Sweet. They are good dancers.

The boys on the lower tier

Sara reads a birthday letter she 

wrote for Piero

These are so good when they're right from the tree into the wood-fired oven (de-skinned of their prickly exteriors first)

They stayed entertained 

The small but powerful wood-fired oven

Once inside the house, I saw it was small, charming, and strategically laid out. I asked Antonietta if there were a refrigerator. She opened a cabinet door to show a European-sized one. I commented on how much I like the house, asking a few questions about the design.

Piero, a man of very few words (he carries an eternal sadness; his young and beautiful wife was killed in a horrific car accident seven years ago), said here; I'll show you the other part.

Every space is well planned and neat as a pin. Big, modern (not "mod") bathrooms, quaint but sufficient sleeping quarters, and of course the kitchen/living room. He guided me outside and down the stairs. A separate door led to a lower level, with bedrooms for summer sleeping, a wine cellar, a climate-controlled station the size of my bathroom, just for the hand-picked wild mushroom varieties that Piero forages, and another large and pretty bathroom.

Outside, a look around the vineyard. Then to the pool area, which included a lovely cabana complete with yet another nice bathroom. Next, I saw the dogs' territory. And lastly, my personal favorite, a shed that reminded me of the old hut in my grandpa's garden, many years ago. Neatly stacked garden tools and shovels, some hewn logs for the fire, miscellaneous equipment, and then-- shelves and shelves of Piero's wine. More shelves with preserved tomatoes and sauce, and a few more with jars of honey. I couldn't believe my eyes. All that was missing from being my grandpa's place was a flask of whiskey on the shelf, to "sweeten" his coffee.

Pippo and Elena inside this 

charming kitchen

Piero grabbed one big and, upon reflection, another smaller bottle, to bring back to the kitchen.

The big bottle: molto particulare, Piero explained, pouring a glass for me to try.

I tasted. Thought for a moment 

"Come chinatto," I dared to say, comparing it to an aromatic bitter liqueur. Now Piero thought for a moment. Nodded. "Brava, sì."

The little bottle came next.

"Ferrochina. Come un tonico. Amaro."

Yes; in fact it was made from the bitter Sicilian oranges, and is drunk as a digestivo.

Sunset over the vineyard 

Antonietta, una donna brava, and Piero

We had a homemade Biancavilla-style gelato; two layers, zabaglione on the inside, chocolate on the outside, with some caffè. The boys were spiraling. It was time to go.

We bid our goodbyes and now I'm vegging a few minutes before -- you guessed it -- going out to eat again!

***********

Though I was tired from the day, I joined Mariella and Vincenzo to meet up with their usual Sunday Night Pizza group of friends. Only a couple of them from this group will join us in Tuscany this weekend, and I wanted to connect with the others. Joe was wiped out, and stayed home.

Since I basically ate all day, I ordered a salad. No mozzarella? No meat? No other type of cheese? everyone asked. I said no, simply an insalata mista. It arrived, with tomatoes, carrot curls, grilled zucchini, grilled eggplant, and a basket of house made focaccia. It was a pretty darn good salad.

As usual, many conversations criss-crossed each other simultaneously. I zoned out for parts of some of them, but circled back when necessary. This is a fun group, and I especially love Marisa.

Two couples were stuck in traffic, as they were coming from the Catania Opera House performance of Rigoletto to meet us at the pizza place. We had already eaten, but waited for them to arrive, order, and eat before we all left. The hour is now quite late, and it's organics garbage tonight... It doesn't have legs, so I'm guessing I need to get it from upstairs and bring it out.

All in all, a great day and evening, but I am really tired.

Even with that extra hour 

Buonanotte.