Rome, May 31, 2017
All roads lead to Rome and it seems that half the world's population decided to get on those roads today. The city is packed with tourists and it's still May. Howard set an ambitious schedule for us: Pantheon, Coliseum, Trevi Fountain, St. Peter's, Plaza Navaronne. Jim and I each tossed another coin in the fountain, so tradition says we'll be back. We tossed coins in a few years ago and here we are! Traffic in Rome is a pluperfect mess. A gazillion cars, no lane lines on the streets, cars parked and double parked with abandon and the Vespas, always the Vespas weaving in and out and around. It's fun to watch this moving circus but it makes getting from point A to B a challenge.
We arrived in Rome yesterday afternoon. Once again, the best laid plans... Our little bus was arriving at 9:30 to hover on that little street in front of our Florentine hotel long enough to load us and our considerable pile of luggage. He arrived, the luggage was loaded and four of us got on, then someone decided to make a pre-drive pit stop so went back into the hotel just as a city bus pulled up behind our little bus and laid on his horn. Luigi weighed his options, closed the door and off we want to go around the block and then back to pick up those left in the lobby. Wellllllll, between the one way streets and closed streets and traffic restrictions we ended up crossing the Arno and going on a twenty minute adventure to get back to the hotel. Getting out of Florence is no mean trick. It probably took us a good 30 minutes to get to the A1 highway to Rome. Three hours later we're now arriving at 1:30 instead of noon. Guess what? Our hotel is on a narrow, one way street! Luigi was having none of that so pulled up on the main drag, unloaded our luggage on the street and called the hotel to send Marco with a luggage trolley. Marco made the block and a half trek with his cart over the paving stone streets, took one look at the pile of luggage, took three bags and high tailed it back to the hotel with three people following him only to reappear with the hotel manager. After much discussion with Luigi, the remaining luggage was reloaded into the bus as were we and with the manager riding shotgun, off we went on an involved detour to get to the hotel which included a discussion with a driver who was double parked and encouraged to get the hell outta the way. Somehow Luigi and the bus made it to the hotel but it wasn't easy. But, then, nothing really is in Italy where bureaucracy is both blood sport and high art form.
Best meal in Rome? A piece of Four Cheese and Black Pepper pizza from a hole in the wall take out joint across the street from the hotel! The Marcella Royal is lovely and gracious. Our room small with no view BUT the shower is bigger than a bread box AND has a door that closes. The water pressure is non existent. Give and take. Give and take. The Marcella has a fabulous roof garden with pots of flowers and trees everywhere, the pride and joy of the owner of the hotel. It also has a bar. Praise be. It is overseen by Salvitore, a grin and a giggle and also the slowest mixologist ever. By now we have accepted that NOthing is done fast in Italy, not even opening a beer! Plus Salvitore always brings a bowl of chips and a bowl of peanuts with the cocktail and always runs tabs for the guests. Roof top bar, a good thing.
We're tired of touring, tired of pasta and ready to head home tomorrow. We have, though, thoroughly enjoyed our traveling companions. It's always a crap shoot and with just twelve of us could have well been a disaster. Many hugs and exchanging of email addresses and phone numbers tonight. We all scatter to the winds in the morning but we also all live within spitting distance of each other in Georgia so hope our paths will cross again. Mayu and Kgo, the absolutely delightful 30-ish children of Jin and Yoko, are heading back to Tokyo but will be in Georgia for New Years. Would love to see them again, maybe even adopt them. Surprise, Jay. You're no longer an only child!
Final musings tomorrow from the airport. Jim is big on getting there early so I should have plenty of time to write and post.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Monday, May 29, 2017
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.
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.
Friday, May 26, 2017
Tuscany, May 22-23, 2017
Tuscany, May 22-23, 2017
It seems that prowling around medieval cities on the hills (All are rather small walled cities on hilltops, better to see the approaching hoards. Side note: we learned that the local citizens were the canon fodder while the real fighting was done by professional soldiers whose only loyalty was to the highest bidder. The most famous and successful was Guido de Ricci, or Guido the Rich), wine tasting and two to three hour dinners can just eat up the day with little time for recording it all.
Tuscany is gorgeous. Green hills divided neatly into farms that grow grapes for the wine, olives for the oil or wheat for the pasta. Each farm is watched over by a house that can range from modest to castle, always the terra cotta color with red tile roof. If the roof leaks the custom is to throw more tile on top and weigh it all down with large rocks or bricks. The distinctive tall, pointy, columnar Italian cypress line roads, driveways, hillsides. The roads all seem to be narrow and twisty. There is a reason the cars are small (a Mini Cooper looks like a stretch limo compared to the tiny Fiats and Opels), well maybe two obvious reasons: the price of gas is around 1.5 Euros per liter around here which works out to about $5 per gallon. Second reason is the width of the roads. Two American compact cars would have trouble passing each other. Amazingly I haven't seen a single side swiped car. The taxi drivers (the in town guy wasn't too reliable so we've used a couple of gypsies from around the hood) seem to enjoy flying through these zigs and zags. Definitely an E Ticket ride at Disneyland. As Howard told us and we've since witnessed, traffic signs and signals are regarded more as suggestions than law.
I'm writing this the morning of May 26th, our first free morning. We've spent time sitting in on an art history class taught by a KSU professor with the KSU students (the facility in the Fortezza is modern and minimal with all the technical bells and whistles). He was relating Renaissance art to Greek philosophers and had us and the students mesmerized. We had a chance to visit with the "kids", mostly 18 or 19 years old but with several non traditional more mature students. There are approximately 45 enrolled per session (two each summer). They attend classes on Monday and Wednesday and then go on THE best field trips on Tuesday and Thursday. The day before they had been to Rome and the Vatican with upcoming visits to Siena, Florence, Pisa and on and on. Seeing the art, cities, countryside in person reinforces what they've heard in class. I'm so jealous that wasn't available back in the day...
Lots of wine tasting. We've been to modest cellars in Montepulciano, one of the grand Frescobaldi estates and a relatively new, very modern winery just out of town. The Italians might not care about the rules of the road but they follow the ironclad rules of wine making in Tuscany to the letter. The grapes must be grown, crushed and bottled at the winery. There are precise rules about how long the grapes are fermented, and then held, first in stainless steel, then huge barrels and finally 50 liter barrels. The barrels are French oak. The big ones last 10 to 12 years, the small ones just two then they are sold to designers and decorators and to companies making balsamic vinegar. Cost of the new barrel: 700 Euros. Resale: 35 Euros.
Each January a blind tasting is held at each winery to determine how the wines will be rated, Rosso, Nobile or Reserved. Some years there is no wine determined to be dubbed Reserved. Even the labels have very strict rules. Make a mistake and the wine cannot be sold. At the very modern Icario winery our guide, Lucy, said she was in charge of labels, spending days and days making sure they were correct. Lucy has got to be all of 25, maybe, and the fate of the vintage eventually falls on her shoulders.
No matter the venue, our tastings have been elaborate affairs with a long table set with multiple glasses, water (still and fizzy), crackers, bread or these nifty round crunchy things that look like tiny bagels the size of a quarter, and olive oil. All the wineries also there own oil. These tastings have been overseen by winery owners, including the only woman who owns and runs a winery, the people who travel the world selling their particular wine and the lovely Lucy. These people know their stuff from varieties of grapes to types of soil to picking all the way to bottling and marketing. Most of the grapes are hand picked by skilled locals and seasonal workers from Siena. At the magnificent Frescobaldi Castelgiocondo in Montalcino (they own countless properties so one has to specify exactly which castello) we were greeted by the head of their public relations department. Giacomo told us the wineries are still in the family's hands after 30 generations. When the latest became CEO he had every employee, no matter their position in the company, work in the fields for three months. Not only did this improve everyone's knowledge about the product but each gained new respect for the other and especially for those who pick the grapes. Giacomo said the grapes he and the others who work in the offices picked did not pass muster from the professionals. "Ours would have made very bad wine."
So, back to the tastings. Each winery makes at least one white but the rest are reds. So we begin. But you don't just taste wine, suddenly platters of meats and cheeses appear so we can experience how the wines taste with real food. Quite good! Four of our group are Japanese. The parents, Yoko and Gin, live in Atlanta, but their adult children, Mayu and Kaygo, live in Tokyo. Let me tell you, these people are true students of wine, especially Mayu. She asks very good questions and takes copious notes and then ships cases of the wine back to Japan. She and her brother went to school in Pasadena when Gin and Yoko first came to the US so speak excellent, idiomatic English. They're both cute as buttons and very stylish in their clothing. The tastings are informative and fun. I can now confidently order Italian wine off a menu. Because of the manufacturing restrictions most of the wineries are small production so sell in small quantities to shops and restaurants around the world.
And then there is dinner. We generally go at 7:30, sometimes in Montepulciano but also in neighboring towns. Howard arranged for two minivans to transport us. Jim and I quickly realized that Simona's was the lead dog in this pack. About as big as a minute, she takes those curves like the professional she is. One night we drove about 30 minutes to a neighboring city on a hill to a restaurant outside the walls that is said to be one of George Clooney's favorites. It's one of those if you don't know about it you won't know it's there. Umberto, our host, was dubbed the Dreamy Italian by the women in our group: 60-something with silver hair and dark framed glasses and that nonchalance that can't be taught. He would ask Howard what to fix and then relay that to the two person kitchen who would comply, then we'd eat that course and then Umberto would repeat the process through four courses! The wine he served was so local it wasn't labeled. If only George had been there.......
Jim and I agree that our best meal was the first we had a Le Logge in Montepulciano. Massimo is the chef and owner. It's a small place with walls of brick and one small window. As Massimo explained, everything is historical and nothing can be changed, but who can complain about dinner by candlelight? The food was spectacular from the tiny bowl of scrumptious Tuscan bean soup that tasted of orange with half of a hard boiled quail egg floating on top,sprinkle with black salt. That simple dish might well be my favorite so far. We had a pasta course, then the meat course (Lamb) arrived under individual domes that were lifted to allow the smoke to disappear. Dramatic and delicious. The best was the desert course: a chocolate ball the size of a tennis ball perched on top of a small pillar of ice cream was placed before us with instructions not to touch it. Then Massimo stopped at every plate to pour flaming absinthe over the chocolate ball that melted to reveal an airy tropical mousse. Yowza! Spectacular and delicious. Lots of cameras clicking! Bravo Massimo.
Time to go taste cheese (for a change) and then more wine.
There's still more to tell.
It seems that prowling around medieval cities on the hills (All are rather small walled cities on hilltops, better to see the approaching hoards. Side note: we learned that the local citizens were the canon fodder while the real fighting was done by professional soldiers whose only loyalty was to the highest bidder. The most famous and successful was Guido de Ricci, or Guido the Rich), wine tasting and two to three hour dinners can just eat up the day with little time for recording it all.
Tuscany is gorgeous. Green hills divided neatly into farms that grow grapes for the wine, olives for the oil or wheat for the pasta. Each farm is watched over by a house that can range from modest to castle, always the terra cotta color with red tile roof. If the roof leaks the custom is to throw more tile on top and weigh it all down with large rocks or bricks. The distinctive tall, pointy, columnar Italian cypress line roads, driveways, hillsides. The roads all seem to be narrow and twisty. There is a reason the cars are small (a Mini Cooper looks like a stretch limo compared to the tiny Fiats and Opels), well maybe two obvious reasons: the price of gas is around 1.5 Euros per liter around here which works out to about $5 per gallon. Second reason is the width of the roads. Two American compact cars would have trouble passing each other. Amazingly I haven't seen a single side swiped car. The taxi drivers (the in town guy wasn't too reliable so we've used a couple of gypsies from around the hood) seem to enjoy flying through these zigs and zags. Definitely an E Ticket ride at Disneyland. As Howard told us and we've since witnessed, traffic signs and signals are regarded more as suggestions than law.
I'm writing this the morning of May 26th, our first free morning. We've spent time sitting in on an art history class taught by a KSU professor with the KSU students (the facility in the Fortezza is modern and minimal with all the technical bells and whistles). He was relating Renaissance art to Greek philosophers and had us and the students mesmerized. We had a chance to visit with the "kids", mostly 18 or 19 years old but with several non traditional more mature students. There are approximately 45 enrolled per session (two each summer). They attend classes on Monday and Wednesday and then go on THE best field trips on Tuesday and Thursday. The day before they had been to Rome and the Vatican with upcoming visits to Siena, Florence, Pisa and on and on. Seeing the art, cities, countryside in person reinforces what they've heard in class. I'm so jealous that wasn't available back in the day...
Lots of wine tasting. We've been to modest cellars in Montepulciano, one of the grand Frescobaldi estates and a relatively new, very modern winery just out of town. The Italians might not care about the rules of the road but they follow the ironclad rules of wine making in Tuscany to the letter. The grapes must be grown, crushed and bottled at the winery. There are precise rules about how long the grapes are fermented, and then held, first in stainless steel, then huge barrels and finally 50 liter barrels. The barrels are French oak. The big ones last 10 to 12 years, the small ones just two then they are sold to designers and decorators and to companies making balsamic vinegar. Cost of the new barrel: 700 Euros. Resale: 35 Euros.
Each January a blind tasting is held at each winery to determine how the wines will be rated, Rosso, Nobile or Reserved. Some years there is no wine determined to be dubbed Reserved. Even the labels have very strict rules. Make a mistake and the wine cannot be sold. At the very modern Icario winery our guide, Lucy, said she was in charge of labels, spending days and days making sure they were correct. Lucy has got to be all of 25, maybe, and the fate of the vintage eventually falls on her shoulders.
No matter the venue, our tastings have been elaborate affairs with a long table set with multiple glasses, water (still and fizzy), crackers, bread or these nifty round crunchy things that look like tiny bagels the size of a quarter, and olive oil. All the wineries also there own oil. These tastings have been overseen by winery owners, including the only woman who owns and runs a winery, the people who travel the world selling their particular wine and the lovely Lucy. These people know their stuff from varieties of grapes to types of soil to picking all the way to bottling and marketing. Most of the grapes are hand picked by skilled locals and seasonal workers from Siena. At the magnificent Frescobaldi Castelgiocondo in Montalcino (they own countless properties so one has to specify exactly which castello) we were greeted by the head of their public relations department. Giacomo told us the wineries are still in the family's hands after 30 generations. When the latest became CEO he had every employee, no matter their position in the company, work in the fields for three months. Not only did this improve everyone's knowledge about the product but each gained new respect for the other and especially for those who pick the grapes. Giacomo said the grapes he and the others who work in the offices picked did not pass muster from the professionals. "Ours would have made very bad wine."
So, back to the tastings. Each winery makes at least one white but the rest are reds. So we begin. But you don't just taste wine, suddenly platters of meats and cheeses appear so we can experience how the wines taste with real food. Quite good! Four of our group are Japanese. The parents, Yoko and Gin, live in Atlanta, but their adult children, Mayu and Kaygo, live in Tokyo. Let me tell you, these people are true students of wine, especially Mayu. She asks very good questions and takes copious notes and then ships cases of the wine back to Japan. She and her brother went to school in Pasadena when Gin and Yoko first came to the US so speak excellent, idiomatic English. They're both cute as buttons and very stylish in their clothing. The tastings are informative and fun. I can now confidently order Italian wine off a menu. Because of the manufacturing restrictions most of the wineries are small production so sell in small quantities to shops and restaurants around the world.
And then there is dinner. We generally go at 7:30, sometimes in Montepulciano but also in neighboring towns. Howard arranged for two minivans to transport us. Jim and I quickly realized that Simona's was the lead dog in this pack. About as big as a minute, she takes those curves like the professional she is. One night we drove about 30 minutes to a neighboring city on a hill to a restaurant outside the walls that is said to be one of George Clooney's favorites. It's one of those if you don't know about it you won't know it's there. Umberto, our host, was dubbed the Dreamy Italian by the women in our group: 60-something with silver hair and dark framed glasses and that nonchalance that can't be taught. He would ask Howard what to fix and then relay that to the two person kitchen who would comply, then we'd eat that course and then Umberto would repeat the process through four courses! The wine he served was so local it wasn't labeled. If only George had been there.......
Jim and I agree that our best meal was the first we had a Le Logge in Montepulciano. Massimo is the chef and owner. It's a small place with walls of brick and one small window. As Massimo explained, everything is historical and nothing can be changed, but who can complain about dinner by candlelight? The food was spectacular from the tiny bowl of scrumptious Tuscan bean soup that tasted of orange with half of a hard boiled quail egg floating on top,sprinkle with black salt. That simple dish might well be my favorite so far. We had a pasta course, then the meat course (Lamb) arrived under individual domes that were lifted to allow the smoke to disappear. Dramatic and delicious. The best was the desert course: a chocolate ball the size of a tennis ball perched on top of a small pillar of ice cream was placed before us with instructions not to touch it. Then Massimo stopped at every plate to pour flaming absinthe over the chocolate ball that melted to reveal an airy tropical mousse. Yowza! Spectacular and delicious. Lots of cameras clicking! Bravo Massimo.
Time to go taste cheese (for a change) and then more wine.
There's still more to tell.
Rome to Tuscany, May 21 & 22, 2017
Rome to Tuscany, May 21 & 22, 2017
Buongiorno
A nice, uneventful flight from Amsterdam to Rome. There was neither immigration or customs to deal with in Rome AND our luggage made it, always a good sign. And sunshine at last!
Now comes the transition phase from someone to do everything for you on the ship to shifting for yourself ashore. We caught an airport shuttle bus that stops at all the staff parking lots and then the Hilton Garden Inn. By the time we'd checked in and gotten to our room it was nearly 6:30 and time for an early dinner. The TV had several stations in English so we caught up a bit on the news, mostly Trump's trip to the Middle East and scores of soccer matches in UK.
The big challenge was the next morning when we took the shuttle back to the airport and with annotated map in hand set out to find the coffee bar on the arrival of Terminal 3 where the members of the KSU group were to meet. Amazingly enough we found the coffee bar and six of our band. The other four were arriving on a (delayed) flight from Atlanta.
Let me tell you that the arrival terminals are bedlam. Endless streams of people popping out of one door to find hundreds more people to greet them, about half friends and family and half drivers and tour leaders holding up little hand lettered signs saying things like "Vatican Tour", "Bob Jones", and then the cruise lines meeting passengers arriving to board ships in the near by port.
As it so happened, Princess Cruises gathers their flock near that same coffee bar. Jim struck up a conversation with a couple from UK who were taking a Princess cruise from Rome to Singapore. Hundreds of Chinese were being shepherded to that meeting spot, given a bus assignment and then turned over their luggage to a group of burly men who loaded it up on trolleys and (hopefully) delivered it all to the ship. Quite an entertaining spot to people watch.
Eventually Howard, the KSU Professor Emeritus leading our tour, and the other arrived. And eventually our silver bus arrived and eventually we were off to Montepulciano (2-1/2 hours away), a medieval, walled village set high on a hilltop in Tuscany. This is where KSU has a foreign campus located in the old fortezza that guarded the town. And a hilly little burg it is. Quite charming with narrow, winding cobblestone lanes (they're much too narrow to be called streets) with small little shops and restaurants tucked here and there.
We'd been warned that it was hilly and the streets were steep but that is the understatement of the year. You need to be part mountain goat to navigate the place. Some lanes are so steep that there are metal hand rails on the sides of the buildings. We were late getting to our hotel outside the gates, at the bottom of the hill, and thus had about 15 minutes before our first wine tasting in town. One of the women, Beth, uses a cane. Howard took one look at Jim and me and said, "Do you want to take a taxi with Beth to the wine shop?" Uh, oh.
So Howard set off with eight in tow for the 30 minutes it takes to climb the one mile to the Fortezza. The three of us took the ("The" as in only taxi in town) unmetered taxi. Seems it's five euros a piece to ride with him. Whatever. We got to the gate of the Fortezza but didn't see the rest of the group. Jim walked up to see if they were inside but was told the wine tasting room was closed. Uh, oh.
I set off to walk down the main drag (when a car passes by you flatten yourself against one of the buildings that edge the lanes) to the square but didn't find them there either. As I was walking back I heard, "Susan!", turned and saw my Master Gardener friend Amy and her husband Joe. Joe is a professor at KSU and is the school coordinator for the summer which means riding herd over two groups of 45 or so who come for 4-1/2 week sessions. And evidently locating the three of us. We all walked up to the door of the Fortezza. Yes, the wine tasting room was closed but for a special tasting for our group. A little language gap.
KSU occupies the upper floors, a museum is on the ground floor and the wine tasting room is below. The floor is glass. Whenever an historic building is being renovated, Italian law requires that archaeologists be present. The Etruscans were here first so it is not unusual to find evidence but underneath the Fortezza was a mother lode of Etruscan relics and not just shards of pottery but entire columns, cisterns, wells, etc. Needless to say this brought the renovation to a halt. It was determined that all of that couldn't be removed without risking the integrity of the entire Fortezza so the compromise was the glass floor. You look down and see the old and then step out on the medieval terrace and gaze across the now.
Buongiorno
A nice, uneventful flight from Amsterdam to Rome. There was neither immigration or customs to deal with in Rome AND our luggage made it, always a good sign. And sunshine at last!
Now comes the transition phase from someone to do everything for you on the ship to shifting for yourself ashore. We caught an airport shuttle bus that stops at all the staff parking lots and then the Hilton Garden Inn. By the time we'd checked in and gotten to our room it was nearly 6:30 and time for an early dinner. The TV had several stations in English so we caught up a bit on the news, mostly Trump's trip to the Middle East and scores of soccer matches in UK.
The big challenge was the next morning when we took the shuttle back to the airport and with annotated map in hand set out to find the coffee bar on the arrival of Terminal 3 where the members of the KSU group were to meet. Amazingly enough we found the coffee bar and six of our band. The other four were arriving on a (delayed) flight from Atlanta.
Let me tell you that the arrival terminals are bedlam. Endless streams of people popping out of one door to find hundreds more people to greet them, about half friends and family and half drivers and tour leaders holding up little hand lettered signs saying things like "Vatican Tour", "Bob Jones", and then the cruise lines meeting passengers arriving to board ships in the near by port.
As it so happened, Princess Cruises gathers their flock near that same coffee bar. Jim struck up a conversation with a couple from UK who were taking a Princess cruise from Rome to Singapore. Hundreds of Chinese were being shepherded to that meeting spot, given a bus assignment and then turned over their luggage to a group of burly men who loaded it up on trolleys and (hopefully) delivered it all to the ship. Quite an entertaining spot to people watch.
Eventually Howard, the KSU Professor Emeritus leading our tour, and the other arrived. And eventually our silver bus arrived and eventually we were off to Montepulciano (2-1/2 hours away), a medieval, walled village set high on a hilltop in Tuscany. This is where KSU has a foreign campus located in the old fortezza that guarded the town. And a hilly little burg it is. Quite charming with narrow, winding cobblestone lanes (they're much too narrow to be called streets) with small little shops and restaurants tucked here and there.
We'd been warned that it was hilly and the streets were steep but that is the understatement of the year. You need to be part mountain goat to navigate the place. Some lanes are so steep that there are metal hand rails on the sides of the buildings. We were late getting to our hotel outside the gates, at the bottom of the hill, and thus had about 15 minutes before our first wine tasting in town. One of the women, Beth, uses a cane. Howard took one look at Jim and me and said, "Do you want to take a taxi with Beth to the wine shop?" Uh, oh.
So Howard set off with eight in tow for the 30 minutes it takes to climb the one mile to the Fortezza. The three of us took the ("The" as in only taxi in town) unmetered taxi. Seems it's five euros a piece to ride with him. Whatever. We got to the gate of the Fortezza but didn't see the rest of the group. Jim walked up to see if they were inside but was told the wine tasting room was closed. Uh, oh.
I set off to walk down the main drag (when a car passes by you flatten yourself against one of the buildings that edge the lanes) to the square but didn't find them there either. As I was walking back I heard, "Susan!", turned and saw my Master Gardener friend Amy and her husband Joe. Joe is a professor at KSU and is the school coordinator for the summer which means riding herd over two groups of 45 or so who come for 4-1/2 week sessions. And evidently locating the three of us. We all walked up to the door of the Fortezza. Yes, the wine tasting room was closed but for a special tasting for our group. A little language gap.
KSU occupies the upper floors, a museum is on the ground floor and the wine tasting room is below. The floor is glass. Whenever an historic building is being renovated, Italian law requires that archaeologists be present. The Etruscans were here first so it is not unusual to find evidence but underneath the Fortezza was a mother lode of Etruscan relics and not just shards of pottery but entire columns, cisterns, wells, etc. Needless to say this brought the renovation to a halt. It was determined that all of that couldn't be removed without risking the integrity of the entire Fortezza so the compromise was the glass floor. You look down and see the old and then step out on the medieval terrace and gaze across the now.
Saturday, May 20, 2017
Bonus Nugget from Schipol Airport
Because the G7 conference is soon to start in Italy, airport security is amped up. Had to take liquids and computers out of carry on, go through the 360 X-ray machine AND a pat down. Yet not a blink of the eye at knitting needles in my carry on. Now to see if our newly acquired Global Entry works in Rome. We're carrying a letter from HAL for immigration. Seems the Frenchies in Brest decided not to entry stamp our passports so we have not officially entered another country. This happened to us once before at this very airport. I think we finally showed the official our itemized bar bill from the ship to prove we really had traveled from the US to Europe. Another of my Susan Bourne experiences with passport control.
On to Rome, May 20, 2017
On to Rome, May 20, 2017
This is one of those hurry and wait days.
The Prinsendam docked 7-ish and then then the disembarking procedure began. You're given luggage tags to correspond to where and when you're going next. Those with flights after three could take excursions in and around Amsterdam that included an airport transfer. Our flight to Rome leaves at 2:25 and even though we all know perfectly well that those excursions would get everyone to Schipol by noon and probably earlier, the excursion manager wouldn't budge so the 9:15 shuttle to the airport it is!
It was a nice crossing, despite the detour. We never encountered any rough weather, thank you very much. As per usual the HAL crew is most accommodating. The Dutch running the front desk and excursions can be a bit stiff, but the cabin stewards and wait staff in the dining rooms are cheerful and enjoy interacting with the passengers. HAL is slowly updating onboard technology and now has the same offline info system as we had on Princess. You set up an account off line that takes you to a nifty website that lists all activities available each day both onboard and on shore, your specific itinerary, your account, restaurant reservations, etc. It's quite handy to have on phone, tablet or laptop.
Now we're in one of the very expansive KLM lounges (Delta medallion perk) with fabulous and free wifi as the breakfast buffet is changing to the luncheon buffet. This lounge is for EU destinations so many languages all around us. Maybe I should search for some Italians and get a crash course...Three hours until our flight so plenty of time to learn a phrase or two, Please, Thank You, How much?
I still cannot get pictures to link with this but I have been editing as we go along so plan to upload to Shutterfly as soon as we get home.
I just must take advantage of this wifi and send this now.
This is one of those hurry and wait days.
The Prinsendam docked 7-ish and then then the disembarking procedure began. You're given luggage tags to correspond to where and when you're going next. Those with flights after three could take excursions in and around Amsterdam that included an airport transfer. Our flight to Rome leaves at 2:25 and even though we all know perfectly well that those excursions would get everyone to Schipol by noon and probably earlier, the excursion manager wouldn't budge so the 9:15 shuttle to the airport it is!
It was a nice crossing, despite the detour. We never encountered any rough weather, thank you very much. As per usual the HAL crew is most accommodating. The Dutch running the front desk and excursions can be a bit stiff, but the cabin stewards and wait staff in the dining rooms are cheerful and enjoy interacting with the passengers. HAL is slowly updating onboard technology and now has the same offline info system as we had on Princess. You set up an account off line that takes you to a nifty website that lists all activities available each day both onboard and on shore, your specific itinerary, your account, restaurant reservations, etc. It's quite handy to have on phone, tablet or laptop.
Now we're in one of the very expansive KLM lounges (Delta medallion perk) with fabulous and free wifi as the breakfast buffet is changing to the luncheon buffet. This lounge is for EU destinations so many languages all around us. Maybe I should search for some Italians and get a crash course...Three hours until our flight so plenty of time to learn a phrase or two, Please, Thank You, How much?
I still cannot get pictures to link with this but I have been editing as we go along so plan to upload to Shutterfly as soon as we get home.
I just must take advantage of this wifi and send this now.
Brussels, May 19, 2017 Uh oh, Lost Two
Brussels, May 19, 2017
Uh, oh. Lost two...
Another marathon day. We docked in Zeebrugge at 7 AM and were en route to Brussels shortly afterwards. They allow 2-1/2 hours to get there in case of traffic, road construction or both.
Interesting port, actually two ports: one open to the sea, the other inner that connects to canals via a series of locks. Flat, flat country with everything from bucolic farms to tire stores and roadside commerce. Once again the Europeans are clueless about the concept of the rest stop. One learns to moderate one's fluid intake prior to shore excursions.
Today our guide is a rather humorless chap who is obviously quite proud of his country. Never did get his name. Flemish is absolutely indecipherable. Can't read it, can't understand it. As seat of the EU, Brussels is the true international city, an architectural mix of old and new, and very crowded. Gobs of tourists from all over the world, both adults and mobs of school age children and teens. Jim asks, "Doesn't anyone work or go to school?" And FYI, it seems that all the smokers have migrated from France to Belgium! And so many in their 20s and 30s.
We flew by this monument and that historical spot before finally stopping in the older downtown centered by the Grand Place. Our guide lead us through a labyrinth of narrow lanes and streets of endless shops and restaurants. At this point he left 18 of us in a splendid glass topped arcade with high end shops while he took two of the group ahead to the lunch restaurant. The ship ranks all excursions as either easy, moderate or strenuous. Ours was labeled as moderate with a lot of walking over uneven, cobblestone streets. However, HAL does not seem to keep those unable to handle the walking off the tour so we had this elderly couple; he shuffles with the aid of one or two canes and she is nimble but never pays attention to instructions. Thus they were walked directly to the restaurant. The guide returned and walked us around and into the splendid Grand Place warning us to watch for pick pockets, machine made chocolates and lace. About the chocolates and lace, it must be hand made. If the price is reasonable it's mass produced so take a pass.
There are so many chocolate stores with gorgeous displays of their goods. I was so tempted but knew that anything I bought to bring home would never make it through two weeks in Italy. No doubt I would just have to eat them before they got squishy in the Tuscan sun. Left the lace in the stores, too. Jim is now collecting key rings from each stop that he snaps onto the zipper pull of his back pack so we cruised through a rather nice souvenir shop. Lots of stuff with EU logos. Bred it be damned.
After a tasty lunch with plenty of vino, we were given maps and set loose for an hour or so with instructions to meet at the foot of a staircase in front of one of the elaborate buildings in the Grand Place. It was cool and raining a bit but this time I was ready for it. So many people! So many Selfie sticks! And so many waffle shops! The basic waffle, about six inches square, can be topped with anything from chocolate to some mysterious-looking stuff. At one Euro each probably THE bargain in Northern Europe. Every kid walking around had one. Lots of adults, too!
At the appointed hour, 1:30, everyone was at the meeting spot except for guess who. We waited and waited and then followed the guide over the river and through the woods to our bus. Departure time was a firm 2 PM to get us back to the ship by all aboard at 4:30. The guide then set out to find the MIAs, returning every ten minutes empty handed. Now the phone calls are starting to the tour company (we were given cards with an emergency number to call just in case) and then the ship. Finally at 3 the orders were given to end the search and head immediately to the ship. Originally we were all pissed but gradually we began to be concerned and I'm sure the guide wasn't at anxious to get back minus two peeps. That HAS got to be a black mark for him and endless paperwork. Ditto for the ship.
The driver took a few detours near the area where we had walked around and we were all noses to the windows looking for them. After 30 minutes weaving in and out of the traffic suddenly there they were, standing on a corner no where near our meeting place. Big sighs of relief from guide and driver and not a single word of apology from the MIAs! Points to the guide for giving them a proper scolding in English and God only knows what he was saying in Flemish. Went right over their heads. I guess they were just depending on divine providence.
Somehow the driver got us back to the ship just a bit after 5 and wouldn't you know that I got stuck behind that old geezer hobbling up the gangway. Ever so tempted to give him just the tiniest shove........
A regenerative cocktail as the ship left (immediately!), early dinner and then packing to get the bags outside our door by midnight. A stately speed of 10 knots will cover the 90 nautical miles to Amsterdam by early morning.
Uh, oh. Lost two...
Another marathon day. We docked in Zeebrugge at 7 AM and were en route to Brussels shortly afterwards. They allow 2-1/2 hours to get there in case of traffic, road construction or both.
Interesting port, actually two ports: one open to the sea, the other inner that connects to canals via a series of locks. Flat, flat country with everything from bucolic farms to tire stores and roadside commerce. Once again the Europeans are clueless about the concept of the rest stop. One learns to moderate one's fluid intake prior to shore excursions.
Today our guide is a rather humorless chap who is obviously quite proud of his country. Never did get his name. Flemish is absolutely indecipherable. Can't read it, can't understand it. As seat of the EU, Brussels is the true international city, an architectural mix of old and new, and very crowded. Gobs of tourists from all over the world, both adults and mobs of school age children and teens. Jim asks, "Doesn't anyone work or go to school?" And FYI, it seems that all the smokers have migrated from France to Belgium! And so many in their 20s and 30s.
We flew by this monument and that historical spot before finally stopping in the older downtown centered by the Grand Place. Our guide lead us through a labyrinth of narrow lanes and streets of endless shops and restaurants. At this point he left 18 of us in a splendid glass topped arcade with high end shops while he took two of the group ahead to the lunch restaurant. The ship ranks all excursions as either easy, moderate or strenuous. Ours was labeled as moderate with a lot of walking over uneven, cobblestone streets. However, HAL does not seem to keep those unable to handle the walking off the tour so we had this elderly couple; he shuffles with the aid of one or two canes and she is nimble but never pays attention to instructions. Thus they were walked directly to the restaurant. The guide returned and walked us around and into the splendid Grand Place warning us to watch for pick pockets, machine made chocolates and lace. About the chocolates and lace, it must be hand made. If the price is reasonable it's mass produced so take a pass.
There are so many chocolate stores with gorgeous displays of their goods. I was so tempted but knew that anything I bought to bring home would never make it through two weeks in Italy. No doubt I would just have to eat them before they got squishy in the Tuscan sun. Left the lace in the stores, too. Jim is now collecting key rings from each stop that he snaps onto the zipper pull of his back pack so we cruised through a rather nice souvenir shop. Lots of stuff with EU logos. Bred it be damned.
After a tasty lunch with plenty of vino, we were given maps and set loose for an hour or so with instructions to meet at the foot of a staircase in front of one of the elaborate buildings in the Grand Place. It was cool and raining a bit but this time I was ready for it. So many people! So many Selfie sticks! And so many waffle shops! The basic waffle, about six inches square, can be topped with anything from chocolate to some mysterious-looking stuff. At one Euro each probably THE bargain in Northern Europe. Every kid walking around had one. Lots of adults, too!
At the appointed hour, 1:30, everyone was at the meeting spot except for guess who. We waited and waited and then followed the guide over the river and through the woods to our bus. Departure time was a firm 2 PM to get us back to the ship by all aboard at 4:30. The guide then set out to find the MIAs, returning every ten minutes empty handed. Now the phone calls are starting to the tour company (we were given cards with an emergency number to call just in case) and then the ship. Finally at 3 the orders were given to end the search and head immediately to the ship. Originally we were all pissed but gradually we began to be concerned and I'm sure the guide wasn't at anxious to get back minus two peeps. That HAS got to be a black mark for him and endless paperwork. Ditto for the ship.
The driver took a few detours near the area where we had walked around and we were all noses to the windows looking for them. After 30 minutes weaving in and out of the traffic suddenly there they were, standing on a corner no where near our meeting place. Big sighs of relief from guide and driver and not a single word of apology from the MIAs! Points to the guide for giving them a proper scolding in English and God only knows what he was saying in Flemish. Went right over their heads. I guess they were just depending on divine providence.
Somehow the driver got us back to the ship just a bit after 5 and wouldn't you know that I got stuck behind that old geezer hobbling up the gangway. Ever so tempted to give him just the tiniest shove........
A regenerative cocktail as the ship left (immediately!), early dinner and then packing to get the bags outside our door by midnight. A stately speed of 10 knots will cover the 90 nautical miles to Amsterdam by early morning.
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