Cheese, Cheese, Cheese

Can a person eat too much cheese? Right now I feel that if you pricked me, there would be no blood just an ooze of creamy white pecorino. Last night as Marcella continues to kill us with kindness, we had pici, the local Tuscan pasta, alla cacio e pepe. (N.B. Earlier that morning I watched Marcella make pici and even partook in the process. Despite my participation, I am not at all confident that I can replicate the product on my own.) That means pasta in a delicous and unctuous sauce of percorino, parmegiano and fresh ground pepper. This was followed by several vegetarian dishes, two of which featured cheese, of course. The coup de gras was a wonderful gooey chocolate dessert with ice cream and strawberries. God only know what my cholestrol levels are now!

So today we drove into Montalcino, yet another beautiful walled Renaissance city about a half hour drive from the villa here for a stroll. And what did I have for lunch but pecorino cheese melted on bread and topped with local honey. (A definite improvement over Little Pete's grilled cheese.) On our return to the house, I immediately took off for a marathon 3 hour walk up the hills to Campiglioncello del Trinoro in a vain attempt to walk off some of the cheese and calories. I left Steve, perfectly content but looking suspiciously like a beached whale, on the lawn. I got back just in time for sunset which meant prosecco and, yes, a few slices of pecorino con pepperoncino, just one of the local cheeses which Steve and I had purchased yesterday at the fattoria of Giusippe conveniently located just five minutes down the road.