Cooking like a Tuscan! And writing Assignment #26 - Recipes

I've discovered that grief doesn't ever go away, not totally. Probably because the sense of loss is always so prevalent. There is no denying that loneliness is a constant companion even in a crowd. I try to fill my life with distractions, not always successfully however because it's a constant 24 hour a day job even after this much time has passed since Dale died.

I grin and bear it but there are some days, like today, when my distractions aren't cutting it. So what's the answer? Oh how I'd love to hop on a plane and head to Italy! But alas, I am well aware that it is not something I can do now. And then, suddenly, the gift of a memory pops into my mind and leads me back to a time in Florence when I decided to take care of my loneliness there. The memory is calming to my agitated mind and seems to slow the pace of the unexplained feeling of a constant revving engine deep within me. Perhaps the recycling remnants of grief? 

I don't know, but for now, I'll use this memory, not as a distraction this time but actually reliving the joy and maybe even pat myself on the back for knowing how to solve the problem for loneliness then which means I should be able to figure out what I still need to do now.

In the meantime, here's my Tuscan memory.....

I bid a fond “Arrivederci” to my fellow students at the University’s Italian evening class that I was taking thanks to the arrangements made by my Polish housekeeper, a full time language student at the school.

It was evening now. The school was in the Altra Arno section of Florence.  I strolled back across the Ponte S. Trinita stopping midway to absorb the beauty of the full moon reflecting on the languid river. My growling stomach reminded me that it had been a long time since my nibble of percorino cheese and a few grapes at noon. I picked up my pace just a bit and made my way through the ancient streets of Florence. I could try a different trattoria each night and still not eat at all the glorious places in Firenze! What did I feel like this evening?   

The door of the Trattoria Maremma stood ajar and I floated in on the delicate fragrance of the roasting main course…roasted wild boar (cinghiale) infused with sage and rosemary.  Seated at a tiny table with a white linen cloth near the window, I nibbled on the crusty bread while I analyzed my homework of verbs and nouns and the rolling r’s that make the language so intoxicating.  Just the sight of the laden plate when it was set before me gave me a thrill…I was in for something very special!  Oh the fragrance, oh the delectable mingling of flavors and textures, oh how I needed to learn how to cook this way! I scurried back to my apartment, full, contented and eager to get to my computer and research cooking schools.   

Just one week later, the early morning bells of Florence chimed as if it were any other Thursday, but I knew better.  The Florentines would be going about their regular activities; meandering their way through the ancient streets on their way to work - stopping first at a cozy café to stand at a counter and sip morning espresso and munch on pastry. Soon, but not too soon, they would be opening their shops and wishing “Buon Giorno” to their holiday shoppers until they closed down again at 12:30 to have a leisurely two hour lunch before opening up their doors again for the afternoon.  I, on the other hand, knew that today was America’s Thanksgiving Day and I was going to celebrate and what better way than cooking! And I was going to learn to cook ITALIAN! Not the boring Roman food but the food of Tuscany!  Besides, without my family and in a far away country, I knew I needed to entertain myself to avoid the dreaded homesickness of explorers like myself far away from family on holidays….

So, I dressed in layers….piling on the thick woolen Florentine scarves and gloves that  I had purchased at the shepherd’s market in Piazza della S.S. Annunziata, my new black Italian coat and my good walking shoes. With my camera slung over my shoulder I headed out the door of my sweet little apartment with the wonderful terrazzo that has the sweeping view of Florence with the Duomo and Campinelle, the Bargello and the Badia, the bridges of the Arno and the Piazelle Michaelangelo all waiting for me to gaze upon…but not today!    I walked to the viale where Elizabeth, from Australia, picked me up her in silver hatchback and we headed out for an adventure.  

For forty minutes we chatted and drove, first on the autostrada and then winding our way on the narrow roads leading to a hillside village - past ancient farms and villas and under the arches of towers that have stood for a thousand years.  We stopped at a charming café to meet my host, a noble looking fellow who was born and raised in the castle Villa Pandofini, a palace dating back to the year 1200, built as a hunting residence for the elite Florentines.  Guests have included Napolean Bonaparte and King Charles VIII of France!  Two other stranieri (foreigners) were also there at the cafe and would be joining us on today’s quest.  We were going to the forest to hunt for the prized and elusive “white truffle” and then return to the massive tiled kitchen with two fireplaces to spend 5 hours learning the art of Tuscan cooking from two prominent Italian chefs followed by a feast of truffle laden dishes.  

One of my cohorts was a young ragazzo from Ireland who is the head chef on a yacht owned by the heir of the large fortune, he travels around the world stopping at ports to shop for local delicacies for the guests who fly on and off the boat via its helicopter!  The other was a lady from Seattle who has a catering business and teaches classes in Italian cooking and my qualifications the asked?...well … I eat therefore I am! I said.

So together with cups of hot espresso warming their tummies and ciocolata calda warming mine, we headed for the forest…acorn and oak trees not pines.  We met our guide, a 74 year old truffle hunter and his 8 year old dog, Tobia, whose reason for living (and it is a good one) being to sniff out truffle.  The day was crisp but sunny and the golden leaves crunched beneath our feet as we made a path through the foliage following Tobia. To find a white truffle is like hunting for gold in Alaska but before long (about 30 minutes) good old Tobia sniffed out a location and the hunter went to work digging…nearly 12 inches into the mountain soil and up he came with a round truffle about the size of a cotton ball. A prize valued at over 200 Euro…roughly 225 American dollars.  I held it in my hand and smelled the heady aroma that is unique to anything else! 

On we went deeper into the forest until again Tobia’s white tail wagged furiously and another prize was dug up. What luck!  Even the hunter was surprised and very pleased!  

The chefs, who know the real value of such things, were elated and I knew that a special meal was ahead. Our 8 course meal was prepared with great care and frivolity and the finished product was delicioso!!  

I was dropped back at the viale in Florence and walked home heavy laden with leftovers for my refrigerator.  It was a nice day. Little did I know then that it would make it a good day today!

WRITING ASSIGNMENT #26 - FAMILY RECIPES

The food we eat plays a major role is who we are!  Keeping a record of favorite family recipes as part of your autobiography is a good way to keep them alive.

Along with the recipe itself, tell what made it special.  Whose recipe was it? Why is it special? Describe who was with you as you ate it, where you were? 

If you love to cook, share your own recipes and maybe even some secrets to pass down to future generations!

Have Fun and include photos!