I have so many places in Italy that I want to write about; Perugia (where I had an art epiphany rather than a wine one), Siena (where I realized I’m a little claustrophobic), Florence (from where I’ve most recently returned with visiting Barbee), and I want to tell you about my two (soon to be three) hiking experiences on the outskirts of Rome. But, no, those will have to wait for future editions, because everyone has been emailing me asking about: Cooking School!

As most of you know, my dear friend Barbee was visiting me here in Rome for a week from Nov. 12-19. Since she had been here as recently as last May, we wanted to do something different than see the sights of Rome again, so I went online and found us a cooking school to go to about an hour north of Rome. As a result we spent two days in Rome, two days in Florence, and two days with an Italian family learning to cook Italian food. It was a wonderful experience with a peek into the daily life of a local family.

We arrived by train to Terni on the afternoon of Nov. 16^th from Florence. We were greeted by Susan and her husband Bruno. Susan is an American who married an Italian about 40 years ago, and has been living in Italy ever since. Some time ago, they moved from Rome to the countryside; to a tiny nearly deserted hill town called Paterno. There is room in this town for about 300 people. Approximately 15 live there, Susan and Bruno being two of them. They remodeled an old home and turned it into and bed and breakfast. Recently, there has been so much interest in Italian cooking; they decided to concentrate on this aspect of the tourism industry.

Our first stop before we even go to the bed and breakfast is a fantastic castle in Labro. The van climbs up into the hillside until we see a tiny town perched on the side of the hill. As we approach, we spot a turret, and are introduced to the elderly owner who is still living in the castle. He proudly escorts just the four of us on a tour of his home. The most impressive room to me is the archive room where the shelves are lined with 6 inch thick volumes of all the records of the castle; all handwritten, dating back to the 1300’s. He shows us documents signed with the giant red wax seals of Louis XVI, lists of what was purchased for use in the castle on a day to day basis, and records of ownership going back hundreds of years. We climb the castle turret in time for one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen….a blood red sky burned into my memory forever.

On our way to the bed and breakfast, we stop at a roadside stand to buy some porchetta and pecorino cheese for dinner. The porchetta man is adorable and asks me if there are men as handsome as he is in America. He happily agrees to pose with his pork, knife in hand. After settling into our room, we head to the kitchen of the house where tonight Bruno will be making pasta for us. He uses the last of the fresh tomatoes from their garden along with olive oil, garlic and basil to make the most simple of pasta sauces. This bowl of comfort is served with the porchetta, pecorino, bread and a salad. And for dessert? You won’t believe it……chestnuts roasted over the open fire! Irene is in heaven. Bruno slits each chestnut, places them all in a special pan similar to a cast iron skillet but with holes punched through the bottom, and takes the pan to the fireplace where they are shaken around until the skins pop open. The golden nuggets are then served with red wine……mmmmm good! Off to bed because we need to store up energy for all the real food consumption that will begin tomorrow.

The next day brings us a typical Italian breakfast….small. This is a good thing, because over the next 12 hours, I will consume more food than I have eaten in one day in a long time. Susan takes us for a walk through her ancient hillside town of Paterno, showing off the view of the small lake below, and pointing out the few houses which actually have people living in them. When we return to her house, there is chef Maurizio clad in his Tuscan yellow apron and white chef’s toque waiting for us. He has decoratively spread the kitchen table with all the ingredients we will need to make lunch and has set out cutting boards and knives for each of us.

We start by helping Maurizio chop up pig’s cheek or “guanciale”. It has been hung to dry and has been aged approximately 6 months, making it very firm and while the small stripes of meat are very dry and have a wonderful intense flavor, there is still a large portion of pork fat. Barbee has a problem with visible meat fat. She is looking at me askance especially when all our pieces go into the frying pan with absolutely no fat trimming involved. A lot of the fat melts to a pool of liquid and when seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little dried red pepper, this is what becomes the “sauce”. Chef pours tubes of freshly cooked, drained pasta into the pan and tosses them with the seasoned pork fat and strips of remaining fatty pork. Guess what? It’s done. How simple was that? Pour this into a bowl, sprinkle with pecorino, and believe it or not, there is so much flavor here, I consume every fatty bit. Barbee is trying.

Our main dish is a fantastic pork stew with, you guessed it, roasted chestnuts. See the recipe column to the right for directions. Also accompanying our meal was a fennel salad. We basically sliced the fennel into thin strips, added black olives, a chopped up orange, and dressed it with a combination of olive oil, tangerine juice, salt and pepper. Chef Maurizio also prepared cauliflower for us in a way we’d never seen before. I must admit, I’ve been most unimaginative when it comes to cauliflower in the past. He adds several garlic cloves to a pan of hot olive oil and when they begin to brown, he tosses in all the florets. He stirs often and seasons with salt, and when they begin to brown, he adds about 2T. of red wine vinegar and two wineglasses of white wine. It’s been on high heat to this point. Now cover, and lower the heat. If the liquid begins to dry out, just sprinkle with more olive oil and white wine. When the florets are tender, sprinkle with a splash of red wine for color, and serve.

So far, we’ve had Pasta alla Gricia, pork stew with chestnuts, fennel salad, cauliflower and bread. We are stuffed but he insists on fixing us dessert. He quickly whips up some crepes made with, take a guess…..chestnut flour, and stuffs them with, guess again…..chestnuts which have been soaking in brandy and then drizzles them with caramel sauce and grated dark chocolate. Just a reminder here: this is merely lunch. We will take a much needed walking tour of the nearby town of Rieti and come back to make dinner……….which I will tell you about next week. Stay tuned for another episode of “Irene eats her way through Italy”.

Doing Research!

Hello all!
Just wanted to let loyal blog followers know that I will NOT be able to make a new posting this coming Monday, Nov. 17th. I am not shirking my responsibilities however, oh no! I will be out doing research! Dear friend Barbee is here in Rome visiting. Tomorrow, we head off on a train for two days in Florence, followed by two days at a cooking school north of Rome! Our hostess has so many fun things planned for us, I can hardly stand the wait. I look forward to telling you all about it when you hopefully tune in on the following Monday, Nov. 24th. "Talk" to you all then!
Much love,
Irene

Fall in Rome

Fall has finally arrived in Rome. I’m not sure if this is typical weather, but the last couple of days have been glorious; 60’s and bright sunshine during the day, upper 40’s at night. Cool and crisp just like fall days should be. Prior to this, we were still in the mid 70’s and I was still wearing a skirt every day. But by wearing my daily skirt, I was showing a little of my foreignness. By the first of October, the locals were already bundled up every day regardless of the temperature. I trekked along in my short sleeves and skirts receiving curious stares as the locals were in jackets with scarves wrapped around their necks. It’s fall for heaven’s sake. Why was I still wearing summer clothes? I am obviously an Oregonian at heart.

We all know Italians are fashion conscious. Way back in August before I went back to Oregon for a few weeks, I knew this fall’s colors were going to be charcoal gray and purple. In early August there were great end of the season summer sales. I was even able to pick up a few bargains with the exchange rate being bad. But by the third week in August, it was time to think about fall. And here, fall means charcoal gray and purple. I’m not talking mauve, eggplant, or lavender. I’m talking PURPLE: purple handbags, purple belts, purple shoes, purple, purple, and more purple. And not just for women. Oh no. For men, the lining of a suit can be purple, and most definitely the socks. Scarves can be purple, and purple cashmere sweaters are a “must have” item. At first, I thought it a striking combination. But now that every storefront has these colors, and most everyone on the street is wearing them, I just can’t bring myself to participate. Purple is ruined for me forever…….not that it was ever my favorite color. I am so un-chic.

Fall is a wonderful food time in Italy. It is olive harvest time, and the season for truffles and chestnuts. Regarding olive oil, we were discussing the other night how we simply cannot believe how much of it we have consumed since we’ve been here. I sauté with it, marinate with it, and drizzle it on the finished meal. I’ve been sampling artisan olive oils purchased in the countryside searching out the ultimate oil. I still haven’t found it, but we’ve had some good ones……and we drizzle it on everything. If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know we’ve relished our experiences with steaks smothered in black truffle sauce. I have yet to cook with them though. Chestnuts are a childhood memory for me. During all the years I lived on Guam, we used to travel to Japan quite often. And if I was lucky enough to go during chestnut season, I was in heaven. I would buy paper sacks of them from street vendors. Here, in Rome, they’re sold in paper cones. The first time I saw a chestnut roasting man near the Trevi Fountain, I knew fall was in the air. Even the local gelato man has added chestnut flavored ice cream to his repertoire for the season. And recently, we stopped by a wonderful chocolate shop featuring chocolates from Naples, and one of our purchases were shaped just like a chestnut and filled with chestnut crème. I’ve recently purchased some from the local market, and am planning on roasting them myself in the oven. I’ll keep you posted on how that goes. Oh, and pears……. The fall pears here have been simply delicious….juicy, sweet and firm. And guess what? The gelato man makes pear ice cream too! It’s the best!

You will notice that I changed out the top picture to a night time scene. With the weather being as marvelous as it has been, I couldn’t help but head out the other night for some night time picture taking. Rome is called the “Eternal City” supposedly because it has been a seat of power for so long. To me, it’s called the “Eternal City” because you could live here an eternity and never see all it has to offer. At night, it’s a different city than it is during the day. It’s still abuzz with people but what makes this city different than most other big cities I’ve ever visited is the lack of harsh neon lighting. Rome positively glows at night. Every monument you saw during the day takes on a soft golden wash when the lights come on at night. All the little side streets are lit by soft old fashioned lamps. Every piazza’s fountain glitters. If you think Rome is stunning by day…….wait until the sun sets.

A Wine Epiphany in Todi

I love the hill town of Todi, in Umbria for many reasons. A decade or more ago, we took the boys there, and met up with my sister’s family and my mother. We had a most fabulous meal at a restaurant overlooking the verdant valley below. It was one of those moments where you actually stop time, take a step back, and say to yourself, “Life is good. I need to hold on to THIS minute.” Of course, time doesn’t actually stop, does it? It moves on. In fact, it speeds up. Though my life is currently at half pace, I swear time is passing at hyper speed.

About two months ago (it feels like yesterday), Dennis and I decided to revisit the town of Todi. One of his business friends is from there, and as the world is shrinking, it turns out that Dennis will be doing business with a solar firm located just outside Todi. His friend, Daniele, who loves food as much as we do, has recommended a restaurant, and even told us what we should order if we go there.

We arrive on a Saturday afternoon (mid-August) for a two night stay. Upon arriving by train to the tiniest of stations, a little bus comes by to take us to the top of the town. It lets us off in a little piazza, where there happens to be a charming little hotel. We go in to check availability and price. It’s a little higher than we want to pay, so we tell the man we will check a few others before we decide. “Did you arrive by car?” he asks. “No”, we reply. “We came by train from Rome and took the bus up.” “Did you know there are no other hotels in the town? All the others are outside the city walls in the countryside.” Well, I guess that bit of information makes the decision easier for us. Actually, he kindly gives us a nice discount, and a lovely room which includes a nice buffet breakfast.

Though it has been sweltering hot and humid in Rome, it’s lovely in the hills. The humidity is gone, and there is a breeze that actually requires a light sweater in the evening. Todi is very small and very walkable and though Daniele’s directions to the restaurant seem quite simple, it takes us a while to find it. When we do get there, the owner is thrilled to know that Daniele has sent us, but they are filled for the night, and so we make a reservation for the following evening. We go instead to seek out the restaurant of a decade ago, and actually find it much more easily. We talk with the owner telling her that we are repeat customers, and she explains to us all the changes that have been made to the restaurant since then. She seats us along the edge overlooking the verdant valley below, and as we munch on a cutting board of cheeses and salamis and savor a fabulous pizza, I think to myself, “I need to hold on to THIS minute.”

The following day, we start off just exploring the town. We walk everywhere, snapping photos of picturesque streets, beautiful views, and charming scenes. I hate to describe it this way, but Todi is almost like Disneyland. It was SO charming, SO clean, and SO well restored, as to be not real. We wander aimlessly along hilly, winding side streets stopping into shops to buy ceramics, wine, and olive oil. We find a beautiful city park overlooking the beautiful valley filled with beautiful well-behaved Italian children with their beautiful, well-dressed parents. Dennis and I look at each other. “Is this place real?” But it is, and it’s fabulous.

This day is an important one in the history of Irene. It’s when I have my red wine epiphany. We were looking for a place to have a small lunch when we came across a little enoteca with a sandwich board out front advertising appetizers different from those we’d seen before. “Not the usual fare” we think. This is the place for us. We order a plate of peppers and sundried tomatoes stuffed with fish, and another of crostini covered in melted gorgonzola cheese, drizzled with local honey. Dennis decides to try a red wine, and at 6 euros a glass, I decide to have water. The fish stuffed tomatoes and peppers are quite yummy. But some strange and very powerful chemical, emotional, reaction occurred between my mouth and my brain when I took a bite of that gooey crostini and washed it down with a taste of Dennis’ red wine. POW! Ecstasy! Why did it take me nearly fifty years to discover this?! I flag down the waitress. We need another glass of that wine. She smiles knowingly, and is back in a flash with a goblet of ruby red elixir. Well, as it turns out, I have good taste. It’s a Sagrantino from a vineyard called Lungarotti. We buy a bottle for 25 euros because Irene has fallen in love, and has discovered the secret of red wine; it’s not just the wine, it’s what you eat with it.

Oh, and dinner that night? Fabulous! The owner seated us at the best table on the terrace overlooking the lights of the valley. The steak Dennis ordered on his friend’s recommendation was another one of those juicy slabs of beefy wonderfulness covered in black truffle sauce. We used every bit of bread to mop up every bit of sauce. Life is good. This is the moment.