Pasta & Cheese & Terraces & Gardens, May 24 & 26, 2017

Pasta & Cheese & Terraces & Gardens, May 24 & 26, 2017

We had a cooking lesson at Le Logge, the restaurant of the flaming desert. A series of tables were set side by side to form a long surface and each station had a board, bowl, fork and pasta maker. We donned aprons (had to give them back, rats) and then we made pasta! Old school: a couple of scoops of 00 flour (so fine), make a well in the middle like a volcano, crack a couple of eggs into the well then beat the eggs and gradually incorporate the flour until Massimo or another chef approves of the consistency THEN you knead it. Eventually it's formed into a ball, wrapped in Saran Wrap and set aside while we made another dough. This was done in the bowl--two big scoops of flour and a small dollop of water and more fork work until the results are approved. Two people added one egg to their mixture and then all of the dough went into a big pile on the chef's board. Lots of kneading and then the chef and Massimo rolled it out and sliced it into 1/2 inch strips and we made Pici -- looks like fat spaghetti but it's hand rolled. We used the pasta machines to prepare the resting dough into sheets we sliced into various widths and two sheets to make ravioli. Two of our classmates were a couple from San Diego who had been to class the day before and made the sauces for the pasta: sage butter for the ravioli and tomato garlic for the Pici and Papardelle. While the kitchen staff cooked our rather sad looking noodles and ravioli, our cooking table became a dining table so we could eat the results. It was not bad.

We did NOT make cheese! Rather we visited a sheep farm just out of Montepulciano where Pecorino and ricotta are made. The 1000 head of sheep grazed in pastures around the factory, if you can call a facility with seven employees a factory. The sheep are milked every day at 5 am and 5 pm except during lambing season. Every day the cheese makers make fresh ricotta. Oh, my. There is absolutely no comparison between what they make and what we buy in the grocery store. Their's is pure white, fluffy, with a consistency close to whipped cream. Besides that ricotta we tasted pecorino aged from two weeks to over a year. The young one tastes like a flavorful mozzarella, the longer the cheese is aged, the harder it gets. We also had a wee wedge of cheese flavored with truffles. And, of course, some local red just because.

The day we tasted at the modern Icario we also went to the gorgeous gardens at Le Foce. During WWII, Iris Origo, mistress of the estate at Le Foce, kept a diary later published as War in Val d'Orcia. She was one of those women with a backbone of steel who protected the people who farmed their land, took in war orphans, hid people during the German Occupation and on and on. One of her daughters still lives in the big house that oversees the acres of very formal Italian gardens that spill down the hillsides. The roses were in full bloom, their fragrance wafting over us. So special.

We've had so much glorious food at the wine tastings, really farm to table. Howard has used his extensive connections to arrange truly magnificent tastings. None of those belly up to the bar in the retail wine shop for us. At every winery no matter the time (11 am, 1 pm, 3 pm) we've had sit-down tastings with China and Crystal and heavy, cloth napkins sometimes in the cellar but more often in a private room or terrace so we shouldn't have to rub elbows with the riff raff! And every time the tasting and eating lasted close to two hours. Prosciutto and melon and bruschetta and bread, always the salt-free Tuscan bread to dip into the house made olive oil.

Every night we headed to dinner at 7:30. I counted three Michelin starred restaurants. The chef at each place chose the menu for us, presenting his best dishes that represent the local bounty. The most beautiful restaurant was Il Chiostra in Pienza. We dined on a terrace overlooking the endlessly beautiful Tuscany hills. The chef is 26 with one star and a kitchen staff of young lions. I had my first octopus, grilled and served warm over herbed mashed potatoes. Jim and I were sitting with the Yoshidas who are real foodies. They both agreed the octopus was the best they'd ever eaten and they know their octopus! Me, too. This was followed by shrimp risotto, grilled salmon served in a cucumber-flavored broth and then dessert and then vinsanto (a sweet dessert wine) and little, hard biscotti to dip and eat. As we ate the sun slowly set and lights in the distant farm houses started to twinkle in the darkness. It was just magical.

One day we went to Siena. It's a lot more crowded and accessible than Montepulciano ---lots of tourists following their guides or guidebooks through the narrow streets down into the huge central square where each summer that crazy horse race is held. This square is immense! It is covered with dirt and then riders representing the various neighborhoods ride bareback three times around the perimeter of the square with 60,000 screaming people looking on. There are no rules. Bumping, poking, knocking the other guy off his steed are part of the race. And the winner is....the first horse to finish, with or without his rider. Italians love a no-rules contest! As we walked through the square and into the cathedral with it's distinctive striped columns of white and dark green marble, Jim and I remembered a visit a few years ago. We also remembered the gelato. My mission on this trip is a taste comparison of cherry gelato. It's a true sacrifice for scholarship.

I'm writing this on May 29th in Florence. We're leaving tomorrow after a busy three days here for Rome. Jim and I are in the most magnificent room in the Hotel degli Orafi. We look out on the Arno River and Ponte Vecchio. Big fluffy towels, crisp linens and a hand written card on our pillow each night telling the morrow's weather. We hate to leave...And it has a fabulous roof top terrace and bar. Every night before dinner up to the rooftop for an Aeperole Spritz and the various munchies they bring under little glass domes. Did I mention we hate to leave?

More about Firenze from Roma. Our time there is short and schedule is packed so I might next be writing from the Delta Skyclub as we await our flight home.