Youth

Life with I ragazzi: lots of bocce, lots of beer--local dark beer--lots of prosecco and wine, lots of food—Steve keeps thinking we’ll have leftovers for lunch but there never are any with this crew—lots of dessert—in honor of their visit, Marcella and Giovanna have been baking up a storm—lots of boggle in front of the fire—Jacob brought an awesome new all-in-one version that has a timer built in!

Best of all, I have learned a new and effective technique for dealing with the sheepdogs when I walk up the hills. As soon as they start barking and growling at me I look them squarely in the eye and shout, “Zut!” with great authority. This doesn’t stop the barking but it does stop them from dashing under the fence to follow me. No more hot doggy breath on my heels.

A Rainy Day

Guess where I am? It’s cold and rainy and I spent the early part of the day sitting in front of the fire, doing puzzles and reading. Then after grabbing a late lunch in the kitchen, Steve and I cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie that I had downloaded on to my computer. The next big event is dinner and I am soooooo looking forward to it.

No, I am not in Otisfield, Maine, but still in Tuscany enjoying life’s simple pleasures. Instead of a lake to stare out at, I am watching gray clouds covering the tops of the mountains in the distance. The air is cool and misty, dropping a silvery veil over the green fields and hills all round us.

It’s time to throw another log on the fire, have a glass of wine and pick up my book.

We have Finally Left the Property!

History was made last night. Steve and I got into our sporty little Alfa Romeo and drove off to Pienza at sunset time. Peinza and prosecco: a perfect combination especially as we sat on the city walls watching the colors of the landscape soften as the sun slowly disappeared behind the hills. Then it was on to Montechiello for dinner at La Porta where I celebrated my birthday last year. This year, I severely restricted my alcohol intake since I, as always with Steve, am the designated driver. Fortunately, there were virtually no cars on the road when we left and we were able to find our way back to Casselacchia without incident.

Of course, I have been leaving Cassalacchia every day to take my marathon walks but today was truly special. I hiked once again to Castiglioncello, a good hour or so uphill, and then met Lucia, my new cicerona. From there, we walked another two hours plus up and down through the woods, listening to the sound of the cuckoo, all the way to Sarteano. Fortunately, Lucia’s father drove us back to Casselacchia. I think I will sleep well tonight.

Buon Giorno

We've been here since Saturday afternoon and I have yet to leave the environs of Casselacchia. It's just too freaking beautiful! What a luxury to be here alone with my charming husband of nearly 41 years. Do you know that when I met him--what must have been a century ago--I was surprised, no shocked that he hadn't been snatched up already by some crafty jewish princess from Elkins Park or some blond schiksa fantasy from Chestnut Hill. Their loss, my gain. And yes, there are still times--not all the time, believe me--when I do feel that way.

Anyway, it's been less than a week but already I have fallen into a wonderful rhythm--a long, long walk in the morning followed by lunch al fresco, some bocce, some reading, sunset and prosecco, dinner alle due and them we prop up our eyelids and watch a movie on the computer. If this is old age, I'm all for it.

Allora, questo giorno, I walked all the way up to Castiglioncello (a real tongue twister to pronounce). It took me about an hour and a half and the last half hour was straight up. And who greeted me at the top--besides the spectacular view of the Val d'Orcia--was a carbon copy of Pella, Liz and Giul's beautiful grey dog with the soulful blue eyes. I puttered around the charming village, not a soul in sight, and then headed back down to home and lunch and Steve.

Sono Molto Fortunata

So here we are in Tuscany one year later at Casselloccia. I'm never quite sure how to spell the name of the villa (let alone pronounce it) but I do know it is a most beautiful, peaceful and special place. We are here for one week all by ourselves before Jacob and his posse arrive followed by Jonathan and Jason and later a Kaufman/Billimoria delegation.

What an incredible luxury to be here alone. To wake up and watch the mist rise from the green hills all around us; to take long walks up those hills; to drink prosecco at sunset and then enjoy a dinner of Marcella's fabulous cooking.

I am very thankful for my good fortune.

Arriverderci Roma

Our last morning in Rome. We've lived the slow life here for almost two weeks, visiting old spots, discovering new ones, per esempio, Il San Lorenzo, a restaurant near Campo di Fiori that was new to us at least and where we had a fabulous meal our penultimate night in Rome. It's definitely not your typical neighborhood trattoria with red checked tablecloths and the usual pastas on the menu. Instead it is an elegant dining room all in white with a sophisticated menu featuring every kind of fish prepared every way. We ordered the degustation menu and sampled, crudo, capaccio, steamed squid, fried baby squids, pasta with fresh anchovies, John Dory, etc. etc. and washed it all down with a delicious white wine. The waiter was very impressed when I ordered the wine. 'It's one of the best on our list," he said, "but not many guests know about it." I didn't dare tell him that I picked it because it was in a reasonable price range and that I had never heard of either. He rewarded us at the end of the mean with two glasses of aqua madre, a golden liquor the color of the sun from Sicily.

Our last night we went back to an old favorite, Le Mani in Pasta, which is conveniently located just around the corner from the apartment we rented in Rome. We had the best seats in the room--right next to the large glass window looking directly into the kitchen. We could watch the two chefs move like athletes in the tiny kitchen, chopping vegetables, dispatching live lobsters and shrimp, tossing pasta with sauce, shuttling dishes from oven to counter without stopping. Great food and great entertainment.

I am Not a Sloth

Today I did things. First of all, I did laundry. I love doing laundry in Italy. As is customary, our apartment is equipped with a washing machine but no dryer. Laundry is meant to be hung. The minute the sun comes out, laundry sprouts up on terraces or waves out from windows and over the streets. Today was no exception. I washed and then I hung our socks, our shirts, our underwear out to dry in the sun on the terrace above our kitchen.

After lunch--arugala salad and cheese a casa nostra--I raced up to the Quirinale for the Carvaggio exhibit. A magnificent experience despite the need to jostle for position in front of every painting. And then I got wonderfully lost on my way back to Trastevere to meet Steve for a drink. Getting lost in Rome is fun. It means wandering sort of in the right direction through back streets and tiny piazzas until I find a landmark that sets me definitely on my way.

Inactivity

This is what happens when you have two glasses of wine at lunch: You don't go to the museum or take that long walk you planned to a new section of the city. Instead, you toddle back to the apartment (well, that counts as a walk), climb up those three long, long flights of stairs, plop down on the sofa to read and wake up in time for dinner. Ok, I wasn't a total sloth; I did go to the gym in the morning.

A Perfect Day

Saturday morning was warm and sunny and in a burst of ambition I announced to my husband that we were getting off our asses and going on an excursion. In full cicerone mode, I led him to the station in Testaccio and, after a half hour train ride, to Ostia Antica, the ancient seaport of Rome. It was the perfect day to be there--not too hot and not too crowded. We spent three hours wandering around the ruins from one end to the other with my trusty Michelin green guide providing essential commentary. Our only regret was that we didn't stop beforehand at Volpetti, the fabulous food store in Testaccio, to buy provisions for a picnic lunch. Oh well, next time.

When we got back to our apartment in the late afternoon, it was still warm enough to sit outside. We climbed up to the the terrace with a bottle of wine and watched the sky slowly change color with the setting sun--from pale blue to pink and rose and then back again to a deeper blue.

Food for the Soul

Maybe it's because we've been to Rome so many times, or many it's because we know that we will be overeating once we get to Tuscany and Marcella's kitchen, but whatever the reason Steve and I have not been obsessing over food this time in Rome. I've had the requisite artichoke already. I make fresh blood orange juice every morning for breakfast. We've eaten pizza and pasta cooked perfectly al dente but, for example, we have skipped dinner twice in a row, something we never would have considered on earlier trips here. Does this mean we have matured?

Today we did have a long, leisurely and late lunch under the trees at a delightful spot not far from Piazza Navona and then sallied off to Vatican City for our special after hours tour of the Vatican Museum. This was basically two hours with just 10 other people and a very serious and knowledgeable guide. It was a little like speed reading through the Vatican Museum but a real treat not to have to compete with a huge crowd of tourists all craning their necks to see the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Afterward it was time for dinner but instead we went home, opened a bottle of wine, nibbled on some cheese (salami, too, for Steve) and looked out over the city from our terrace. Who needs dinner?

Siamo qui a Roma

We arrived in Rome on Sunday morning--Easter--and the city was eerily quiet, also very wet and cold. But two days later the sun has come out and the streets are full of people shopping, eating, talking, strolling. It feels and looks like spring.

We are staying in an apartment in Trastevere, conveniently located just around the corner from our favorite restaurant in Rome, Le Mani in Pasta, where we celebrated our first night in Rome. The apartment is charming with a view over rooftops and a sunny terrace up a winding staircase from the kitchen. But perhaps the most salient feature of the apartment is the three flights of stairs one must walk up to get there. By noontime today, we had made the climb three times lugging the results of our morning shopping expeditions to the cheese store, the forno, the salumeria, the enoteca, etc. I rewarded Steve for all his efforts with lunch al fresco on the terrace. No need to go the gym!

Trastevere is known for its pizzerias so last night we tried a new one for us, Ai Marmi, again just a few blocks from where we are living. Fabuloso! The place was packed with with families, students, tourists all sitting shoulder to shoulder at long marble topped tables (hence the name) and all eating delicious thin crusted pizzas tasting of the wood burning oven. Waiters bearing pizzas, beers, wine and water navigated the narrow aisles between the tables shouting out orders, slamming down food and somehow creating order out of chaos. Needless to say, we loved it.

Andiamo

The peripatetic (my new favorite word) Solms are on the go again--this time to Bella Italia for six weeks. Can't wait to enjoy that first glass of prosecco. I'm already thinking about what I should eat our first night in Rome. Is it the season for fresh fava beans and pecorino? Shall I go with my favorite pasta--clams alla vongole? Is there an artichoke in my immediate future? Stay tuned as I report from the front.