Jennifer's life in Tuscany

Beach-hopping on Elba Island

2011-08-27T04:54:00.000-07:00

Before I started spending a lot of time in Tuscany I had heard bits and pieces about Elba Island but honestly it just went in one ear and out the other. I recalled from my college French classes that Napoleon I had been exiled there, and I had always pictured a desolate, barren and wind-swept stretch of sand with the feisty French emperor moping behind bars in a cement shack, gnawing stale bread and moldy cheese, vengefully plotting his escape route.

Then, one rainy day last June, a colleague of mine from Castello di Casole (a private estate near Siena where I sell luxury farmhomes) who has family in Elba was raving about the island and my curiosity was piqued. I had been craving sunshine and salt air so I invited my friend Barbara to join me for a quick three-day getaway. Other than a few tips we’d been given from Italian friends, neither one of us knew a thing about the island nor did we have time to prepare, so we booked a random hotel in Porto Azzurro which someone said would be the best place for us to stay, and we took off.

Elba is surprisingly easy to reach. You can take the train to Piombino Marittima then a short bus ride to the ferry and then forty-five minutes later you are there. Barbara and I opted to drive two hours to Piombino and bring my car on the ferry so that we could explore as much of the island as possible.

As our ferry chugged across the Tyrrhenian Sea towards the largest port town, Portoferraio, I was immediately struck by the size of the island. Elba is the largest island in the Tuscan archipelago and the third largest in all of Italy after Sardinia and Sicily. At 86 square miles or 150 kilometers around, it takes several hours to drive from one end to the other. The landscape is surprisingly lush and parts are heavily forested. Underneath lies what was once a treasure trove of minerals and semiprecious stones, though there are still a few active mines on the island today. The hilly interior is peppered with olive groves and vineyards and a cable car runs up the highest “mountain” Monte Capanne. Nestled in coves all along the coastline are more than fifty beaches. Those on the quieter west side are sandier though harder to reach while the more rugged east side has high cliffs and stony beaches.

Italians will shake their heads in disappointment when they read this, but since our ferry was arriving in Portoferraio anyways, Barbara and I decided to kick off our visit with a tour of Napoleon Bonaparte’s residence, Villa dei Mulini, in the city center. A far cry from a cement shack, the once grand two-story villa is now weathered and its gardens are sadly overgrown. Some exquisite furnishings, such as Napoleon’s desk and library, remain, and the views framing a lighthouse are stunning.

A quick tour of the villa gave me a chance to brush up on this obscure part of French history which I will impress you with now: When Napoleon was defeated in 1814 and the Treaty of Fontainebleau was signed, the allies shipped him off to Elba, made him governor of the island, handed him two million francs and a volunteer army of 400, built a plush villa for him in the main port town and another equally plush villa in the countryside for weekend getaways. And they let him keep his title “Emperor.” Not bad for a chap who conquered northern Italy, occupied Egypt, invaded Austria, Russia, Britain, Holland, Switzerland, Turkey, Spain and Portugal, killing thousands of people, demolishing historic buildings and pilfering priceless art along the way….

During his 300 days as sovereign, when he wasn’t masterminding his short-lived return to glory before being defeated once and for all at Waterloo, the kinder, gentler side of Napoleon carried out a number of economic and social reforms on Elba and added roads and other forms of infrastructure that remain to this day. His stay on the island is the basis for the famous English palindrome (which I recall from high school English is a phrase that can be read the same way in either direction): "Able was I ere I saw Elba” whatever the #$*% that means…

But enough of the little French Emperor. Barbara and I had made it our mission to find the best stretches of sand on the island so we spent that afternoon and the whole next day beach hopping. One thing I love about the beaches on Elba is that there is so much variety. On a day in early June before the hoards of summer vacationers descend on the island in July and August, for example, you can can opt for a beach like this:

Or one like this:

The closest beaches to Portoferraio are around Capo Enfola just 20 minutes north so we headed there first. The one we liked the most, Sansone, doesn't have a grain of sand on it. Its shore is a deep, sprawling mass of white, silky-smooth rocks and lying on them is like getting a hot stone massage, only a lot cheaper. The water is the clearest I have ever seen and since you have to hike fifteen minutes down a fairly steep footpath, it is not too crowded. Parking along the street is limited so my advice is to arrive early, and bring walking shoes, water, snacks and an umbrella. Also don’t forget your bathing suit like I did. (I wanted to shoot myself, and bikini-clad Barbara, when I realized my oversight.)

Driving along the windy roads around the island between beaches is exhilarating. You never know what surprise lies around the next bend. Panoramic views of emerald green meadows and the azure blue sea alternate with bouquets of yellow scotch broom, purple thistle and red poppies in full bloom in June.

Heading southeast to the Golfo (gulf) Stella near the town of Capoliveri, we discovered two lovely beaches adjacent to one another, Barabarca and Zuccaro. Both have simple little bars with terraces where you can have a nice lunch looking out at the sea. Barabarca has an approach so gorgeous it literally stops you in your tracks.

Norsi beach, a local’s secret covered in tiny pebbles, has a fun bar in a thatched-roof hut right out of the Bahamas.

The sandy, longer beaches, like Lido, where you can windsurf, rent a rubber dinghy or a pedal boat, and splash around with screaming kids, really draw the crowds. They are ideal for families and not ideal for two single gals searching for a little peace and quiet. We were at Lido beach for a matter of seconds, just long enough for me to leave my cell phone on the seat of a motorbike while dusting the sand off my feet. Thirty minutes later, after searching the car, my beach bag and the parking lot several times, Barbara had the bright idea of calling my phone and we heard its feeble ring in the distance ….(That time it was Barbara who wanted to shoot me.)

Had we been there for more than 48 hours we would have ventured to the wilder, quieter west side of the island, or we would have parked it somewhere for a few hours and really relaxed, but we were on a mission and so we persevered, visiting more than ten beaches in two days. It was exhausting. However rather than waste precious time recovering that first afternoon with a nap, we decided to head to Porto Azzuro for a little pick me up after quickly checking in at our random hotel that was so terrible I wanted to jump out the window the minute we entered our room. I had been warned that moderately priced hotels on Elba have “lower standards” than their counterparts elsewhere in Tuscany but this was ridiculous. (I have heard good things about Villa Ottone which is among the island's few luxury hotels.) Fortunately we had driven by another cheerful, inviting hotel called Cala di Mola with a huge swimming pool and great views of the picturesque harbor that, praise God, had a room for us. I would recommend Cala di Mola to anyone visiting Elba on a moderate budget who doesn’t mind the color orange.

And after a long day at the beach you can also partake in a rigorous exercise class in the pool...

In serious need of a calming elixir, we drove into Porto Azzurro and discovered an inviting bar fittingly named El Curando (“the doctor” in Spanish) in a postcard-perfect piazza. Within minutes I was sipping the best margarita I have had in all of Tuscany listening to Van Morrison and recapping the day’s adventures with Barbara and my friend Daniela who had joined us for the evening. Had we not had a dinner reservation I could have sat there all night.

However, Daniela who always manages to find the best restaurants everywhere we go, had reserved a table at a seafood place just steps from our hotel, run by an, er, slightly attractive friend of hers named Stefano.

There are certain vistas along the Pacifica Coast Highway in California so stunning they can literally bring me to my knees. I had that same sensation when I descended the stairs down to La Caletta and laid eyes on Stefano. No sorry. I meant I had that same sensation when I descended the stairs and landed on the terrace of La Caletta.

The setting for this restaurant is so perfect it actually felt fake. I was spellbound by the views of the serene harbor below, sailboats swaying gently in the breeze. The raw fish on the platter I started off with was so fresh it could have leapt out of the sea right onto my plate. My second course, the Zuppa di Mare, was a heaping, steaming mass of shrimp, mussels, clams and fish floating in a rich, spicy, broth begging for a wedge of crusty fresh bread.

On our second night, following another day of rigorous beach hopping, Barbara and I took our sun-soaked selves up to the little medieval hilltop town of Capoliveri. As we joined the locals for their evening passeggiatta (stroll) through winding cobbled streets and alleys, sultry lounge music drifted out from the bars and beckoned us into shops.

Eventually we wound our way to Il Chiasso, (which means “narrow lane”), a fantastic restaurant housed in what used to be donkey stables cleverly renovated with tables filling every nook and cranny inside and out. Luciano, the chef and proprietor since the restaurant opened in 1973, dances his way around his guests all the while entertaining them with jokes and smiles. We were fortunate to get a table outside where a three-piece band was playing live jazz and Luciano just kept bringing plates of food to our table. My favorite dish was a local fish called “ricciola,” served raw and finely chopped with champignons and raspberry vinaigrette. It was close to midnight when we reluctantly bid farewell to Luciano and as we made our way back to the car there were even more locals of all ages out chatting in the piazzas, eating gelato, little kids scampering around. Every one seemed happy, relaxed and not wanting that beautiful summer night to end.

During that long weekend, I was so struck by the lush natural beauty of the island, its crystal clear waters, and welcoming people, that I found myself thinking longingly about Elba all winter long and returned again with another friend, Beth, this past June for three more blissful days. This time we rented motorbikes and discovered some new treasures on the island. I’ll save that story for another day.

A Ski Adventure in Abetone

2011-01-28T14:00:00.000-08:00

“Skiing in Tuscany? Are you kidding???” For the past year that was my standard response when any of my friends would suggest we check out the local slopes for a day. Having lived in Aspen for a decade during some of the best ski seasons on record, I had visions of bunny hills covered in icy, man-made snow with a few Poma lifts, a rickety old chair lift, and maybe even a towrope.

Nonetheless, I was mildly curious about a small ski resort in the Apennine Mountains just an hour and a half north of Florence called Abetone. I mentioned it several times to my friend Marco, who brought me to the Dolomites for my first Italian skiing experience last year, but he always grimaced whenever I brought it up, so I assumed it wasn’t worth the time or the effort. Then in December, while my ski boots were collecting dust on a shelf in my closet and my friends back in Aspen were posting photos of epic powder days on Facebook, I decided to write an article about Abetone for The Florentine, a newspaper for English speakers in Tuscany, leaving me no choice but to check it out.

A friend of mine graciously gave me the keys to her condo so I could spend a full two days exploring the resort. Fortunately, my dear friend Chloe, who grew up in Florence and spent her winters with her family skiing in Abetone, skied the first day with me. She knew exactly where to park, rent ski equipment, which trails to ski, the best place for lunch and where to have a coffee before heading home. After a day of hard, fast skiing on soft terrain under a cloudless, periwinkle sky with my friend, simply put, I fell in love with the place.

Abetone means “large fir “ and as Chloe and I drove up a windy, well-maintained road from Pistoia through the foothills of the Apennines, there were forests of fir trees as far as the eye can see. Along the way Chloe told me stories of learning to ski in these mountains when she was a small child, her family often staying for a week at a time. Now she is teaching her own children how to ski on the very same slopes. Not much has changed in the past thirty years, which is one of Abetone’s most appealing features.

When we arrived in Abetone that Thursday morning, we literally drove right into the resort. Ski shops, restaurants, bars, hotels and markets line both sides of the road. I was delighted to discover that the parking is free, and since it was a weekday, we had no problem finding a space in the lot next to the Total gas station on the right. In fact, the lot was almost empty.

We were immediately welcomed by a cheerful man who carried my boots across the street and into Bibi Sports (who said chivalry is dead?) which is owned by the affable, engaging Senor Bibi. It took only a few minutes to rent a nice pair of Rossignol skis, and Bibi even gave us a little discount. When he asked where I was from and I told him Aspen, he became quite animated, pulling out a tattered old ski-racing book and pointing to page with a black and white photo of Zeno, who it turns out was one of the greatest Italian skiers ever and was born in Abetone in 1920. At the 1950 World Championships in Aspen, Zeno won the gold medal in both the downhill and giant slalom. Two years later, he won the gold in the downhill at the Olympics in Oslo, Three trails at Abetone are named in his honor- Zeno 1,2 and 3, #1 being the only black diamond run on the mountain.

Just a short walk down the street and up a steep little hill is the ticket office where we paid a mere €34 euro for a day pass with a €5 refund at the day’s end for returning the electronic pass. Admittedly, I was a little nervous when I sat down on the weathered, red plastic seat on the first chairlift,

and even more so when the second lift was a Poma...

...but when we arrived at the top and took in the expansive, snowcapped mountain range all around us, I finally understood what all the fuss was about.

Abetone is a real, honest to goodness ski resort, and though the skiers and snowboarders are fashionably dressed as one would expect in Italy, there is not an ounce of pretention. With more than forty trails, twenty-two chairlifts and a gondola with bright blue cable cars, there is quite a bit of terrain to cover. Both the length and quality of the trails, comprised of mostly beginner (blue) and intermediate (red) runs that are slightly steeper than their counterparts in the Alps, far exceeded my expectations. Plus you can ski all over the mountain without worrying about ending up in another country.

Chloe’s plan of attack was to spend the morning in the Val di Luce area where the light is best (hence the name, Valley of Light) and then follow the sun back towards Abetone in the afternoon. Far above the tree line with panoramic views of the surrounding mountains and little villages below, Val di Luce quickly became my favorite spot on the mountain. We carved turns down the wide open, gentle slopes all morning then stopped for lunch at the chalet where the three lifts converge at the base. The spacious terrace was the perfect place to catch rays and people watch.

Within minutes we were chatting it up with two tall, attractive Florentine men, both avid skiers who know the mountain well.

We ended up skiing a few fast runs with them after lunch. At one point, when we got off the chairlift at the summit, we all dropped our skis and hiked up a short, steep hill. When we arrived at the top Chloe and I both gasped. Below us, smoky blue mountaintops basking in golden rays of sunlight rose above a sea of white, bubbly clouds that stretched all the way to the Mediterranean. It was of one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.

As we skied our way back to Abetone, we explored other parts of the mountain where the runs are lower and lined with trees. The trails were all enjoyable and there was enough variety to keep us wanting more when the last lift closed at 4:45.

After returning our skis to Bibo, we met the guys and another American friend of mine, Beth, for a coffee down the street at La Casina, famous for its torta di ricotta and handmade chocolates. The red and white Tyrolean-style chalet, which opened in 1948, is adorable, and we had a nice conversation over tea and pastries by a wood-burning fire.

Chloe and I happened to visit Abetone on a warm, sunny weekday when the snow was delightfully soft and, at times, not another soul was in sight. The following day skiing with Beth was a completely different story. The temperature had dropped considerably overnight and the slopes were hard-packed and icy. Overlooking the fact that Beth had not been on skis in two years and taking her word for it that she was an experienced, intermediate skier, I made the mistake of taking her down what I was later to find out was the only black diamond run on the mountain right off the bat. Beth was petrified and rightly so. The trail was a solid sheet of ice. She sidestepped her way down the slope and the next thing I knew she was careening headfirst, skis flailing behind her, gathering speed while I stood below watching helplessly. Thank god a ski patroller arrived just in time and stopped her hurtling body by sliding right into her. She got up laughing but it was a nerve-wracking experience for all of us.

We tried to find slopes that the sun had softened but each one had it shady, icy patches that Beth had to inch her way down. We skied four runs in four hours and we were exhausted when we finally made it back to Abetone. It was an important lesson learned for both of us. At least we had a killer sunset to cap off that harrowing experience...

Having spent two dramatically different days in Abetone, here are a few tips for first-timers:

1) Go on a weekday if at all possible. Parking is easy and you will have the mountain to yourselves. Weekends are mob scenes.

2) If you go on a weekend, arrive early and be ready for an interesting experience at the gondola and chairlifts. This is Italy, not Switzerland.

3) Watch the weather and ski conditions. There is not much natural snowfall and though there are 100 canons blowing tons of artificial snow each night, the slopes can be icy, even treacherous.

4) Grab a map from the ticket office. The trails are not well marked and the signage, where it exists at all, is small.

Abetone offers private and group ski and snowboard lessons for adults and children. Group lessons require a minimum of three days, weekdays only, and start at €95. See www.scuolascimontegomito.it. For hotels and apartment rentals, weather and other details, www.abetone.com is great resource. Call the tourist office for ski conditions at +39 1573 60231.

Castles of the Casentino

2010-11-29T13:16:00.000-08:00

In addition to my work as an ownership representative for Castello di Casole, I am a journalist for a newspaper in Florence for English speakers called The Florentine. As their Travel & Leisure writer, each month I spotlight a special Tuscan town, beach, island, ski resort, terme, abbey, whatever strikes my fancy really, and I try to go a level deeper than a guide book. My first two articles featured Volterra and Arezzo. For my November piece I was searching for something completely off the beaten path, so Daniela suggested we visit a mountainous region between Florence and Arezzo called the Casentino and offered to be my tour guide one Sunday in October.

Mind you I had never heard the word “casentino” before. It sounded a bit dull, and frankly, my arm needed a little twisting. Little did I know I was about experience some of the most amazing scenery in all of Italy, turreted castles right out of a fairytale book, undiscovered churches adorned with precious art by Renaissance masters, and a massive national park with endless hiking trails. That day in the Casentino hit me deep in my soul, and I am still quivering at the memory of it all.

The easiest and most beautiful way to reach the Casentino from Florence is to drive east through Pontassieve, then climb the Passo della Consuma, a mountain pass that winds through a glowing green countryside sprinkled with enchanted forests and tiny villages with curious names like Omomorto “dead man”.

I had a feeling the drive up the Passo di Consuma was going to be particularly beautiful that fall morning, so I handed the keys over to Daniela who happily took the wheel. The views as we climbed the pass were simply stunning. About halfway up we came across a small log cabin right out of Vermont that looked like the perfect place to stop for a cappuccino. I couldn’t resist sampling the schiachatta con l’uva, a sweet, dense cake baked with overripe grapes on top, which I normally don’t like because the grapes have seeds. It was divine.

About ten minutes further up the pass we made a left-hand turn towards the town of Stia, historically one of the most important wool-making centers in Italy. We parked in the town’s main lot then headed up the lane along the river to Tessilnova, a delightful shop teeming with vibrantly colored coats, hats, scarves, purses, slippers and other apparel made of the famous, nubbed “casentino” wool. During our visit one of the helpful salespeople explained how the nubs were originally formed by rubbing the fabric along rows of dried thistles.

At the end of the lane, I ventured into the Museo della Lana, a museum dedicated to preserving the history of wool-making in Stia. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the self-guided tour through the museum, open mornings 10AM-1PM and afternoons 4PM-7PM, has descriptions in English.

Of course we were starving after all that driving so we stopped for an early lunch at Ristorante Falterona “Gliaccantiti” in Piazza Tanucci, (the only piazza in the small town). My thinly sliced fresh porcini with arugula and pecorino was delicately accentuated with pink peppercorns. Daniela savored every bit of her beef carpaccio, which after living in Italy for two years still gives me the willies. Also on the menu is a bottled water produced by Pierre Cardin from the spring in Stia. Apparently the French fashion designer used to vacation here and loved the ultra-fresh water so much he bought the spring and sells the bottles at his restaurant Maxim’s in Paris and a few other select locales.

During our lunch, Marco, the owner, revealed one of the best-kept secrets of the Casentino- the Chiesa delle Santa Maria de Grazie, a sweet little church just down the road from Stia. On the way to the church we stopped off at the Castello di Porciano, also on the outskirts of Stia. I was completely charmed by this 11^th-century castle, its walls, well and tower cloaked in lush, red ivy. It is there that I took one of my favorite photographs of Daniela.

When we arrived at Chiesa delle Santa Maria de Grazie, the sprightly, elderly caretaker, Antonietta, graciously opened the door to this wondrous shrine built in the 1430s. Inside five beautifully preserved ceramic reliefs from the famous 15^th-century della Robbia school exude purity and grace in their signature colors of pale blue and white. I was also amazed to find a fresco by Florentine Renaissance painter Domenico Ghirlandaio I actually studied in an art history class in college.

Our next top was the fairytale-like Castello di Romena, complete with a drawbridge and a prison tower that was allegedly the inspiration for the circles of hell in Dante’s Inferno. Built back in the 10^th-century by the Counts of Guidi, the castle had fourteen towers and was the most powerful in the region. The little museum inside is moderately interesting but for me the views from the dramatic Cypress-bordered grounds alone were worth the €3 entry fee.

A few kilometers below Castello lies one of the most beautiful Romanesque churches in all of Tuscany-the Pieve della Romena. As we descended the hill and rounded a bend in the narrow road, seemingly out of nowhere this gently rounded, neatly columned church emerged in shades of soft grey. The locals speak with great affection for the priest, Don Luigi, whose Sunday sermons draw more than a hundred people from the Casentino and beyond. When we entered the church’s bare, graceful interior it became immediately apparent to me why people from all over the world venture to this scared place for either a brief visit or to attend one of Don Luigi’s weekend spiritual retreats.

Next we decided, perhaps against out better judgment, to take a rather perilous, winding road through the Parco Nationale delle Forreste Casentinesito to the hermitage at the Benedictine monastery at Camaldoli. As we drove deeper into the eerie forest, the fog around us thickened and the temperature plummeted and when we finally arrived at the hermitage we felt as though we were smack in the middle of a dark, snow-filled cloud. At the hermitage, 125 or vegetarian monks who grow their own food live in silence in a cluster of small cottages.

When we opened the doors to the plain white church, we both gasped. Inside, every square inch of the walls and ceilings, decorated by Vasari, are brilliantly frescoed and whatever isn’t frescoed is gilded. The entire space is a joyous symphony of color and light. As we walked around in stunned silence, we discovered a tiny chapel with an exquisite ceramic relief by Andrea della Robbia. The church at the 11^th-century monastery a few kilometers down the hill has three oil paintings by Vasari and a little farmacia where you can buy honey, soaps and other products made by the monks.

During a subsequent visit to the Casentino, this time with our dear friend Karen, we visited the picturesque town of Poppi, the most important historical center in the Casentino and my new favorite town in the region. As we climbed the road leading into its city center, a grand gazebo beckoned us to take in the views of the countryside under its elegant dome. In the main piazza, an inviting little six-sided chapel is lavishly frescoed. The abbey of San Fidele at the end of the porticoed lane in front of the chapel features a crucifix by Taddeo Gaddi, a prize student of Giotto.

Atop the hill, the commanding and remarkably well-preserved Castello di Conti Guidi looked vaguely familiar to me. Later I learned that its right half was designed by Florentine architect Arnolfo di Cambio, architect of the Palazzo Vecchio, my favorite building in Florence. Inside the 13^th-century castle opposite five ceramic coats of arms from the della Robbia school, an exquisite stone staircase curves up to a striking dark wooden balcony. At its top a stands a statue of one of the Guidi counts who is said to haunt castle’s halls. I caught my breath as I entered the castle’s small chapel and found myself surrounded by a series of faded frescoes on its vaulted ceiling and walls recounting the “Story of the Gospel” and painted by Taddeo Gaddi.

That day we lingered over a long, delightful lunch at L’Antica Cantina Ristorante on via Lapucci in Poppi. Cozy and refined with 14^th-century barrel-vaulted ceilings, L’Antica Cantina is the perfect spot to spend a crisp fall afternoon indulging in great food and wine with friends. I ordered the “Autumn Fantasy Salad” but I was particularly tempted by the chestnut flour tagliatelle with bacon, walnuts, pine nuts and raisins, and the savory veal filet with figs and gorgonzola. Daniela loaded up on porcini mushrooms while Karen opted for the melted tomino cheese wrapped in thinly sliced speck. All of this paired quite nicely with a bottle of Crognolo from the Tenuto di Setteponti winery down the road in Arezzo.

I fell in love with the Casentino after my first visit. The raw, intense beauty of its landscape and the kindness and generosity of its people have been calling to me ever since. I can’t wait to return in the spring, after the snow has melted and the roads are accessible, to visit to the La Verna, a thriving monastic community where St. Francis is said to have received the stigmata in a nearby cave.

Getting There: From Florence, head east along the Arno to via Arentino, which eventually becomes the SP70. After Pontassieve, where the road merges with a larger highway, veer right following the sign to Pontassieve (even though you already passed through it) not straight towards Ruffina. A few kilometers later turn left onto Passo della Consuma.

Appreciating Arezzo

2010-10-11T04:28:00.000-07:00

My first visit to Arezzo was with a colleague of mine at Castello di Casole a few summers ago. The town was only an hour and a half away and neither of us had ever been, so we grabbed a guidebook, jumped in her convertible and headed east. Upon arriving we walked around the city center, poked our heads into a few churches and shops and admired the main piazza. Then we had a nice lunch and left. It was a pleasant enough experience but I wasn’t feeling the urge to return anytime soon.

Fortunately, my dear friend Daniela is from Arezzo and after several trips there with her over the past year I now have a whole new appreciation for it. We always stay at her parents’ house where she grew up which is a real treat for me, especially when I am feeling homesick. Her mother, Giuliana, dotes all over me and she even hems my pants. She is an excellent cook (are there any Italian mothers who aren’t?!), and she looks visibly crestfallen every time Daniela and I go out for lunch or dinner during our visits. As for Daniela’s father, Pietro, you name it, he can fix it. Last time he welded the handle back onto a sterling silver purse a friend got for me in Thailand. Another time he washed my Ford Focus wagon, which is always caked in inches of dust, and buffed it to a sparkling shine with a hand towel.

Last month, on the first Sunday in September, Daniela invited me to join her for the Giostra del Saracino, a spirited medieval jousting festival that has been entertaining crowds in Arezzo since the mid 1500s. The Fiera Antiquaria, an antique fair of more than 500 vendors that descend upon the Piazza Grande the first weekend of every month, was happening as well so it was an ideal weekend to visit.

On Sunday morning, in order to be sure we could park, we rode into the city centre on her father’s motorbike. We thought we looked pretty hot in our little dresses and helmets until we saw this photo ...

Daniela has to start and end each day in Arezzo with a stop at Coffee O’Clock (on the main shopping street called Corso Italia), one of the most interesting and inviting cafes in Tuscany. You can plug into its wireless Internet, view the abstract art on exhibit and catch up on the latest news in the International Herald Tribune. The owner Massimo has a booming coffee roasting business and distributes his beans all over Italy and the café has an unusually wide and creative selection of coffee drinks.

My favorite is the Espresso Shakerato- a martini-style espresso, shaken not stirred, and poured into a thick glass made of solid ice. Catering to its international clientele, there is also a nice selection of infused and loose leaf teas which are almost impossible to find in Italy. That morning I opted for the memory-enhancing blend of yerba mate, orange rind, ginseng, cinnamon, cloves, pepper and rose to be extra sure I would remember the exciting events of the day.

After fueling up we did some window-shopping along Corso Italia, which has several stylish high-end boutiques- L’Albero for shoes and handbags and Sugar with the latest apparel from Prada, Dolce & Gabbana and other Italian designers. Along the way we ran into Daniela’s friend Roberto, the owner of Viaggiando, an upscale sporting goods store right out of Boulder, Colorado. Roberto is an avid outdoorsman who leads hiking expeditions all over the world and upstairs his guidebook and map-reading room beckons adventure seekers with an inviting, weathered brown leather chair.

Continuing up Corso Italia, we ventured into Arezzo’s largest and most beautiful church – the 12^th-century Santa Maria della Pieve. Inside and definitely worth seeing is the famous gilded Virgin with Child and Saints painted by Pietro Lorenzetti in 1320, and the glimmering gold and silver bejeweled bust of San Donato, patron saint of Arezzo. Above, the wooden beams are adorned with the Stemma- the white horse symbol of Arezzo. Even more stunning is the church’s crumbling exterior with its striking square tower and its exquisite rounded and columned backside that faces the Piazza Grande.

In the Piazza Grande, where the famous antique fair, the Festa Antiquaria, is held the first Sunday of every month, colorful coats of arms decorating the facades of the buildings and the dark wooden balconies set this piazza apart from all others in Tuscany.

We crossed the piazza and walked under the famous Loggia del Vasari designed by Giorgio Vasari. After the second restaurant on the right there is a hidden staircase that leads up to the Passeggio del Prato, a lovely, English-style park with lots of shady trees and panoramic views of the valleys below. Since on that particular day the Piazza Grande was being set up for the jousting festival, the vendors at the Fiera Antiquaria were sprawled all over the park displaying their wares. We wandered around the fair for awhile and it really is quite impressive, but you can only look at so many armoires and pocket watches...

At the top of the park is Arezzo’s lurking sandstone Cathedral of San Donato. Inside the Duomo’s famous 16^th-century stained glass windows and under its vibrantly-colored ceiling lie two tombs worth taking a look at- one houses the remains of Pope Gregory X, record holder for pope who took the longest to be elected by his fellow cardinals (three years). The other tomb of Bishop Guido Tarlati, which some believe was designed by Giotto, is decorated with reliefs depicting stories of his life and one featuring a miniature theatre. Next to this tomb is a famous fresco by Piero della Francesca of Mary Magdalene holding a crystal pot of ointment.

Back outside, we headed left out of the church and down via Cesalpino, stopping at Galleria Cesalpino, a cooperative featuring local products from the province of Arezzo, including the extra-warm, nubbed wool jackets, ponchos, handbags and hats from the Casentino (a mountainous region between Florence and Siena) in bold, cheerful colors.

Just up ahead in its own piazza on the right we entered the most important church in Arezzo- the Basilica of San Francesco. It was inside this simple Franciscan edifice in the 1450s in honor of a treasured wooden crucifix by Cimabue that early Renaissance master Piero della Francesca was commissioned to paint The Legend of the True Cross (based on stories of how the timber relics of the cross on which Jesus was crucified came to exist and how the cross helped the Christians win battles after his death).

Happily, it was lunchtime, which is always a highlight for Daniela and me. After briefly contemplating trying something new, once again we ended up at our favorite spot for a mid-day meal, La Formagierra, which specializes in gourmet cheeses from Italy and France. I happen to love cheese more than any other food on the planet so this place, tucked in an alley between Corso Italia and Via Cesalpino, is pure heaven for me. Depending on how decadent I feel, I either go with the mixed greens with fresh and aged sheep and goat’s milk cheeses, or I forgo the greens entirely and sink into the heaping platter of hard and soft cheeses served with a basket of fresh-baked bread. The last time I was there Daniela, who sadly for me does not eat cheese, ordered what looked like pulled pork with white beans and relished every bite.

Now it was time for the procession of the Giostra del Saracino, the famous contest which reenacts the jousts between the Crusaders and the Moors from Africa in the Middle Ages. Throngs of Aretines were lined up and down the streets cheering on representatives from their four neighborhoods proudly marching in medieval garb and leading the knights on horseback up to the Piazza Grande for the big competition.

I happen to have a bit of a problem with crowds and long parades are a form of torture for me. However I must say that the flag-bearers of Arezzo, which are among the most famous in the world, were incredible.

Daniela and I didn’t have tickets to watch the tournament in the stands, thank god, so we gathered around a television outside a bar to watch the spectacle in the piazza. You would think that the knights would be racing towards one other trying to knock each other off their horses, right?

Not so. Basically there is a dirt path of a few hundred yards and on the far end is an oversized Moorish man made of black metal holding a sort of bulls-eye. There are two knights for each neighborhood, and one at a time the knights race at high speed with their long, smudge-tipped lance pointed directly at the bulls-eye. Depending on where the lance hits they are awarded points, and if the lance breaks they get double points. This year the neighborhood from the city centre, which none of the other neighborhoods particularly like, beat the underdog when the knight broke his lance.

After the rather raucous crowd in front of the television eventually dispersed, Daniela and I decided it was time for an apperitivo at Terra di Peiro in Piazza San Francesco. This quaint little enoteca has an impressive list of wines by the glass and delicious snacks. We sat at a little table outside watching (depending on which neighborhood they were from) the gleeful or dejected faces of the passers-by.

With a bit of time to kill before dinner and knowing how much I love to shop, especially when a good deal is involved, Daniela brought me to a fabulous women's clothing boutique close to the train station on Via Niccolo Arentino called G-Loft. The owner, Giulio, has an eye for elegant, fashionable, one-of-a-kind pieces. He carries only Italian designers and the prices range from moderate to high. I was pleasantly surprised to find several special pieces still on the sale rack from July.

For dinner that night, Daniela chose Saffron, a Japanese trattoria serving sushi, sashimi and “international creative” cuisine. Opened in 2004 by a young woman from Arezzo who was attracted to the Japanese mentality and worked at a sushi restaurant in Florence, Saffron is a welcome break from the bruschetta, pasta, and wild boar dominating the menus in Tuscany. As I eagerly blended my soy sauce and wasabi, preparing for my first bite of raw tuna in six months and taking occasional sips from my glass of cold sake, Daniela whipped up her own concoction of olive oil and Balsamic vinegar into which she dipped each piece of raw fish followed by a taste of Chardonnay. I winced at the travesty but let it pass. Arguing over what constitutes “good food” with an Italian is one battle that will never be won.

Daniela, who happens to love the desserts at Saffron, was visibly dismayed when I told her I wasn’t in the mood for “dolce.” But I didn’t need any more sugar. Our day in Arezzo had already been filled with plenty of sweetness.

Digging Deeper in Volterra

2010-08-21T07:05:00.000-07:00

Owners and guests at Castello di Casole often ask me which towns in Tuscany they should visit, and whenever they do, I recommend Volterra. One of my favorite places in all of Italy, Volterra has a good thousand years on the other Medieval towns in the area and there is so much to see that very time I visit I discover something new. The approach to this magnificent monolith, rising starkly from a high hilltop at the summit of a sharply winding road, is stunning. The city centre is easy to navigate, parking is a breeze, and it is mercifully free of the throngs of tourists crowding the streets of neighboring San Gimignano.

After several visits, I had wanted to dig deeper into the soul of Volterra, and I needed to write an article about the town for The Florentine, a newspaper for English speakers in Tuscany. So I was thrilled when my colleague Raffaella introduced me to Lisa Halderman, a fascinating American woman who lives in San Gimignano and leads walking and hiking tours with Wilderness Travel. I recently had the pleasure of spending a day in Volterra with Lisa who generously shared her knowledge of the history and local lore.

Before we began our tour Lisa gave me a little background on the Etruscans - those ingenious, indulgent, superstitious metalworking masters who chose Volterra as the site for their biggest outpost back in 800BC. No one knows where the Etruscans came from and their language as not yet been cracked by scholars. All we know about these people is what has been found in their tombs, which are located in pockets all over Tuscany, many still undiscovered.

We started our adventure from the parking area at Porta Docciola, which is free and always has plenty of spaces (see below for directions). From the medieval gate there are two sets of stone stairs that ascend to the city centre- we took the steps to the right into Piazza San Michele. (Directly across from the San Michele church, Enoteca Scali has an impressive selection of wines from the region). Then we headed up Via Matteotti, the main shopping street of Volterra and a popular spot for the evening “passeggiata” (stroll), for a cappuccino at L’Incontro. A favorite bar among the locals, elegant L‘Incontro serves homemade gelato in the summertime and in winter handmade chocolates formed into little sarcophagi.

We bypassed the Duomo and all of the main sights I had already seen several times and stopped at the Tourist Office in the Piazza de Priori to pick up a map of the town. On the way Lisa pointed out the local sandstone called “panchina” used in the buildings and pavement around town. When I looked down at the gritty grey stones under my feet, right there staring up at me was the perfectly preserved fossil of an ancient seashell.

Since I was interested in learning more about the history and art of alabaster sculpting, our first stop was the Alabaster Cooperative in the piazza, which showcases the talent and range of local sculptors and is definitely worth a visit. I learned from Lisa that alabaster is so soft it can be carved with woodworking tools, and since it is water-permeable, it is used purely for decorative purposes.

Lisa then took me to two shops that represent the two extremes of modern-day alabaster sculpting. The first, Opus Arts, in Piazza Minucci across from the alabaster museum, features the work of Giorgio Pecchioni, a next-generation sculptor who is not only keeping the ancient art form alive but pushing it to new extremes with his life-sized electric guitar and a complete drum set. (Later that day Lisa brought me to Giorgio’s studio, where the artist was at work, sporting his signature newsprint cap, his tools, the floor and his body blanketed in inches of white powder).

Through the arch to the left and in sharp contrast to Opus Arts, the Rossi family has been sculpting classical alabaster works at Rossi Alabastri since 1912. Walking into this gallery is like entering a museum, its shelves lined with exquisitely carved urns, vases, bowls and other decorative pieces. We peeked into the studio to the right of the shop and there was a member of the Rossi family sawing into a piece of stone before a captivated crowd.

Lisa wanted me to see the reproductions of Etruscan gold jewelry at Fabula Etrusca on the way to the Roman amphitheatre so we stopped in for a look. During my first visit to Etruscan museum in Volterra several years ago, I remember being awestruck by intricacy and minutia of these exquisite gold artifacts. To think that the Etruscans were capable of crafting such exquisite, finely detailed necklaces, bracelets, earrings and cloak pins over two thousand years ago without the aid of magnifying glasses is truly astonishing.

I was immediately captivated by the reproductions at Fabula Etrsca and was thrilled to be invited into the studio next to the ship to see first-hand how the intricate gold pieces are created using modern-day tools and techniques. I inquired about a particular pendant that caught my eye and learned that it is a reproduction of an Etruscan flask found in a tomb discovered just three years ago on the outskirts of town.

Lisa guided a reluctant me out of the shop and we continued further down the street to the Roman amphitheater and baths that date back to the first century. We were able to view the partially recreated site perfectly from this vista. Lisa told me that the amphitheater functioned as the town dump for centuries until an archeologist discovered ruins underneath and patients from the insane asylum in town were enlisted to dig out the trash.

The panoramic views stretch to the Tyrrhenian Sea and on a clear day you can see all the way to the Cinque Terre. The San Giusto Clemente church off to the left was built in the 1600s in honor of two brothers- Saint Giusto and Saint Clement. Legend has it that during a particularly savage barbarian raid, the brothers persuaded the Volterrans to throw bread over the walls to their enemies, fooling them into believing they had enough food to last for months. The disheartened barbarians retreated and the town was spared.

At the end of the street we headed right and circled back through Piazza San Michele and on to Via Gramsci. As we strolled down this pleasantly wide shopping street leading to the Guarnacci Museum, which houses the largest private collection of Etruscan artifacts in Italy, we stopped to chat with a colorful coat-of-arms artist who looked like he stepped right out of a Renaissance painting.

We stopped by a delightfully aromatic coffee roastery and visited the shop of weaver who was sitting at her loom forming fine strands of wool, mohair and cashmere into a brightly colored scarf when we arrived. We couldn’t help but admire Anna Maria’s wonderful selection of one-of-a-kind sweaters, scarves, blankets and hats all lovingly handmade.

I didn’t have time to visit the Guarnacci Museum, where I seem to always end up on the top floor admiring the gold collection, so during lunch I asked Lisa for an update. She said that the most exciting new addition is a helmet found alongside that flask found in the tomb I mentioned earlier. She also told me about the “lacromato”, tiny vases in the vase collection which were used to collect tears at funerals. Perhaps the most famous Etruscan artifact is the tall, dark and skinny Ombra della Sera, “the Shadow of the Evening” which you will see reproductions of in shops all over town.

Speaking of lunch, we were both quite hungry after a morning of intense sight-seeing so I asked Lisa to take me to a place that locals love and tourists would be hard-pressed to know about. She certainly delivered with Trattoria da Badò. Located on Borgo San Lazzero, the main road into town across from the COOP, da Badò is know for its simple, extremely fresh, seasonal Tuscan menu.

Lisa, whose visits are an obvious pleasure for the attractive male wait staff, started us off with a wonderful surprise that was not on the menu- “cipolle frite,” sweet red onions deep-fried in tempura batter. I had not had onions rings in over a year and a half and I went to town on those sweet, crispy morsels, calories be damned.

Next up for me was the fried baccalà, a surprisingly tender white fish served piping hot under a hearty tomato sauce with a side of chick peas. Lisa opted for the tortelloni with ricotta and spinach in a veined pecorino sauce and we were both sad when the last bite was gone. We didn’t have time or room for the second course but judging from the smiles on the faces of our neighboring diners, the grilled meats are cooked to perfection.

Had I not had to rush back to Florence, I would have taken a walk through the lovely gardens in the Parco Arceologico situated below the massive Fortezza Medicea, an operating prison since the 1400s where many a Mafioso has done time behind bars. But being the working girls we are, Lisa and I had other responsibilities to tend to so we said our goodbyes and agreed to make plans for a future adventure together.

Before heading back to Florence, I had to make one final stop. There was simply no way I was leaving Volterra without it....

Getting there: Take the Firenze-Siena highway towards to the Colle Val d’Elsa Nord exit and follow signs west to Volterra another 20 kilometers. The best place to park is the lot at Porta Dioccola. As you approach the town, pass under an arch and look for a COOP grocery market on your right. Take the next right and follow the tree-lined street along a stone wall, bearing left at the first intersection. A large dirt parking lot will be on your right.

Beach Baby, Beach Baby

2010-07-12T15:50:00.000-07:00

Summer arrived late in Tuscany this year after an unseasonably cool and rainy June. And when it finally arrived, it came with a vengeance. July has been roasting hot in Florence so far and the only real way for me to get some relief is to head to the countryside where I work selling the most beautiful farmhomes in all of Tuscany at Castello di Casole, or hit the beach. So in order to stay cool this summer I have made it my personal mission to frequent as many beaches as possible on my days off. Here is a little introduction to two very different stretches of sand I recently discovered.

VIAREGGIO

One Saturday in early July Daniela and I decided to drive to Viareggio, a bustling urban beach town only an hour by car from Florence and an hour and a half by train. Viareggio is home of the famous carnival of Viareggio which dates back to 1873 with its paper-mache floats that parade along the Promenade of shops and cafes that parallels the shoreline in the weeks preceding Easter. It being a weekend I was expecting to encounter hoards of people but I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to find a parking space. The beach was certainly active and lots of people were walking along the water’s edge, but it was nothing compared to beach in Riccione on the Adriatic Sea which I will write about in another story…

What I really like about Viareggio, and what distinguishes it from its more upscale counterpart, Forte dei Marmi just fifteen kilometers up the coast, is the way the beach resorts or “bagnos” that line the beach are situated right behind the shops and cafes along the Promenade in the center of town. Each bagno has its own sets of cabanas, rows of lounge chairs and brightly colored umbrellas, a little bar and a restaurant as well.

A day at a bagno in Viareggio costs anywhere from 15 to 30 euro, and you can pay by the day or month, or like many Italian families do, the whole summer. Some of the bagnos even have swimming pools. The key is to get chairs as close to the sea as possible where the breeze is the strongest. In order to do so, you need to arrive early or even call a bagno to reserve your space ahead of time. Food always being a priority for me and Daniela, we walked past bagno after bagno until our stomachs stopped us in front of a little café on the beach at Bagno Guido.

After a light salad with tuna and mozzarella, we parked ourselves on two lounge chairs and relaxed in the sun all afternoon. Then we walked along the beach, which stretches for miles in either direction, to the next little resort town, Camaiore, and ventured down its long white pier that stretches out into the sea like the prow of a big ship.

Back at the bagno Daniela took a little nap while I did some yoga under the shade of our umbrella. At the end of the day we threw on our beach cover-ups and took a stroll along the Promenade. Noticing that the July sales were in full swing, we couldn't resist poking our heads into a few shops along the way. I found a great summer dress by one of my favorite Italian designers, Massimo Rebecchi (you can never have enough dresses in Florence) and Daniela bought some blue Tom Ford sunglasses that she was particularly excited about and which happen to look fantastic on her.

Due to its proximity to Florence, its accessibility and its lively combination of beach, shops and cafes, Viareggio is an ideal place to spend a hot summer day, especially for families with kids. My advice is to scout out the bagnos right behind the shops in the city center for one that feels the most appealing and has the most desirable lounge chair/umbrella location. Those seeking a more luxurious beach experience might want to check out the new bagno “Teresita" which costs around 100-120 euro for the day.

To get to Viareggio, take the A11 west to Lucca where there is an exit for Viareggio then head north on the toll road until you arrive at the exit for Viareggio. Drive into the center towards the beach and make a left turn at the T-stop. You will see several parking areas on your right as you approach the city center.

PARCO DELL'UCCELLINA

On another steamy summer day, my friend Paolo invited me to spend an afternoon with him at Parco dell’Uccellina, a national park that runs along a six kilometer stretch of the Maremma coast south of Grosetto. The drive to Parco dell’Uccellina from Florence is about two hours, maybe even two and a half, but it’s worth every minute. The polar opposite of Viareggio, the park is wild, rich with natural beauty and there is not a bagno in sight. The sand is fine, the sea is cool and inviting, and there are little huts made of driftwood scattered along the beach where you can find relief from the mid-day sun.

Since it was Sunday, otherwise knows as the worst possible day of the week to go to any beach in Italy given the traffic and the crowds, we decided to arrive in the afternoon. 3PM was late enough that we only waited ten minutes in the queue to park the car in the lot adjacent to the beach. Once inside we stopped to fuel up at the park’s bar and restaurant. After sliding into a parking space just steps from the beach, we headed south for about 15 minutes to a surprisingly secluded spot.

According to Paolo, the land that comprises Parco dell'Uccellina was once malaria-infested marshland. Then under Mussolini’s “bonificare” system in the 1930s the marshes were filled in with dirt for agricultural purposes. Now there are farms and horse and cattle ranches all over the area. The cattle ranches are home to the famous “Vacca Maremmana,” the white cows which Paolo says taste even better than the Tuscan Chianina because the cows are outside all day walking around and eating the special grasses that grow by the sea.
I was fascinated to learn from Paolo that there are cowboys in the Maremma called “butteri” who in the olden days used to wear velvet jackets and black hats while tending the cattle and sheep. Legend has it that Buffalo Bill and his circus came to the Maremma in the 1800s and challenged the butteri to a rodeo and guess who won??? According to Wikipedia, there are only five or six large herds still tended by butteri in the park today, however the tradition of the butteri lives on outside the park in small demonstrations in the region's rural towns and in the Italian equivalent of rodeos.

Thoroughly enjoying our secluded spot on the beach, Paolo and I talked, (or rather he spoke in Italian and I pretended to understand), read our books and took occasional dips in the refreshingly cool sea until dusk. The last hour or so was the best hour of the day because we were the only ones left on the beach. As we left the park the sun was shining brightly while a gentle rain began to fall and when we looked out the window to savor that magical moment, here is the sight that greeted our disbelieving eyes. Talk about a grande finale...

Fortunately Paolo had made a dinner reservation at Da Remo, a very special restaurant in Rispescia just five minutes from Parco Uccellina, Da Remo is famous all over Italy and it is virtually impossible to get a table in July and August without making a reservation well in advance. Remo opened the restaurant 19 years ago and he serves only fresh fish from the Maremma coast at very reasonable prices.

We started with a mixed seafood antipasti featuring five different fish and shellfish, then we shared a tender white fish called corvina cooked Maremma-stye in foil with tomatoes, parsley, clams, mussels and juniper berries from bushes in the sand dunes all along the coastline. The waiter, who spent a good ten minutes perfectly fileting our fish tableside, recommended an unusual and unusually good Maremma white wine made from the French Voignier grape. I ate every morsel on my plate and drank every drop in my glass and proceeded to pass out for most of car ride home. Thank god Paolo was driving…

Parco dell’Uccellina is one of Tuscany’s many hidden treasures. I would highly recommend spending a day, or even two, at the beach as long as you bring an umbrella or get there early enough to claim one of the driftwood huts. There are many reasonably-priced agriturismos (bed and breakfasts on working farms) in the area or you could experience one of the most luxurious hotels in all of Italy at Il Pelicano in Porto Ercole a bit further south down the coast.

To get to Parco dell’Uccellina, drive south on the Firenze-Siena highway and head in the direction of Grossetto when the highway ends after about sixty kilometers. Pass Grossetto and continue for about 20 kilometers to the Rispescia exit. Turn right and you will see signs for the parking area up ahead on the left.

The Dolomites: A Skier's Paradise

2010-03-24T01:07:00.000-07:00

When I was 17, my parents sent me off for a week of skiing in Chamonix, France, with a group from my high school in Connecticut. It was my first trip to Europe and it was a life-changing experience for me. My favorite part was the day we skied into Italy. Something deep inside of me really connected with the place in a way I had never experienced before. It felt like coming home, and I am sure it is a big part of the reason why I call Italy home today. I have always wanted to relive that experience and finally last week the opportunity arose when my friend Marco invited me to join him for four days in the Dolomites.

The drive from Florence to the vast, stunning mountain range comprising the Dolomites, a UNESCO World-Heritage site in the Alps that forms a border between Italy, Austrian and Germany, normally takes about five hours. However, Marco, being a bit of a lead foot, made it to the Val Gardena, which he says has the best skiing in all of Europe, in just over four hours. He had booked an all-inclusive, three-night stay at Hotel Diamant, a lovely little lodge with an impressive wellness area between the charming alpine towns of Ortisei and Santa Cristina.

After we checked into our room with a balcony framing a postcard-perfect rock formation called Sassolunga, we drove a few kilometers to Ortisei where we rented skis and poles at Carlo’s ski shop. Back at the hotel, we immediately changed into our bathing suits and spent the next few hours soaking in the indoor and outdoor whirlpools, steaming in the Turkish Baths (one scented with a soothing blend of eucalyptus and other herbs), and drying off the warm, hot and infrared saunas.

Dinners were included in our hotel package and our meal that night featured a buffet of local cuisine with a wide variety of pork dishes and beef tongue which Marco heartily devoured while I tried not to watch. I opted for the dumplings, a heaping pile of potatoes and the salad bar and we enjoyed a bottle of fruity, light Muller Thurgau from Bolzano, a large town we drove through in the foothills of the Dolomites in the Alto Adige region. Northern Italy, and specifically the Alto Adige, is famous for its white wines and I was particularly excited to sample a few different varietals on this trip.

The next morning the mountains were blanketed in a layer of fog and it was snowing pretty hard so we took our time at the substantial breakfast buffet. Eventually we boarded the hotel shuttle and headed to the gondola in Santa Cristina. As we ascended the mountain, I became increasingly nervous about the lack of visibility and my lack of familiarity with this ski area. Fortunately, Marco, who is an excellent skier, proved to be a very patient and supportive guide. We were enveloped in a shroud of fog and I couldn’t see more than four feet in front of me most of the time, but we did hit a few clear patches with fresh, untouched snow. Lunch for me and my tired, tense legs came none too soon. We dined at a little chalet on the mountain and I ate another bowl of dumplings as we watched the snow fall out the picture window. Eventually a group of large, boisterous German men drinking massive beers descended on our table so we ventured back out into the fog and blindly worked our way down the mountain. Needless to say, we were relaxing in the whirlpool within minutes of arriving back at the hotel.

The following day we awakened to periwinkle blue skies, warm sunshine and a magnificent view out of our hotel room window. Finally I was able to see the incredible stretch of wild beauty all around me that I had only been able to imagine the day before. The Dolomites are truly awe-inspiring. (According to Wikipedia, the term “dolomite” was coined by a French mineralogist in the 19^th century and is a kind of carbonate rock that causes the striking formations and colors of these mountains).

The Val Gardena area of the Dolomites is huge and I was wide-eyed and speechless as we rode the bus ascended the gondola that morning. Thankfully Marco knows this area well and the snow was hard-packed and very fast so we were able to cover a lot of ground which included passing through an adorable alpine village called Selva.

We stopped for a hearty lunch of polenta and fontina cheese at the same chalet we dined at the day before, but this time we were able to sit outside, catch some rays and take in the views.

We continued skiing until our legs gave out then headed back to the hotel for a final round of relaxation in the warm waters.

I have to admit that I was feeling a little melancholy at dinner that night knowing that we would be leaving this beautiful, romantic alpine paradise the next morning. So over glasses of limoncello and grappa we plotted out our next Dolomites adventure, this time in Corvara, Marco’s favorite town in the Val Gardena, with a side trip to Cortina to check out the legendary après- ski scene.

The weather had turned for the worse the next morning so we opted to go for a walk around Ortisei before driving back to Florence. Painted in pastels and nestled in a valley with the majestic mountains rising above it, Ortisei is a charming village with some nice shops and a few interesting churches. The highlight is the Adler Spa & Resort, which has one of the best-rated spas in the Alps and the “largest and most impressive water world in the Dolomites.” I highly recommend this little gem to those who prefer a more a luxurious, indulgent mountain experience. I, myself, look forward to staying there during a future ski trip to the Dolomites, of which I now know there will be many.

Lunch at Jennifer's: Lesson One - Raw Artichokes

2010-02-15T05:51:00.000-08:00

Right now I am sitting in my apartment on a mild winter afternoon enjoying one of my favorite Tuscan winter lunches of all time- a salad of raw carciofi (artichokes) and a heaping pile of white cannellini beans drenched in a delightfully fragrant olive oil a friend gave me- freshly pressed with olives from his family’s estate. (We love friends having friends like this.)

Until I moved to Florence I had never eaten an artichoke that hadn’t been steamed or boiled for at least 45 minutes so I was a little skeptical the first time I tried this salad. In fact, I was pretty sure I would be chewing for the better part of the day, but I was pleasantly surprised at how tender the artichoke slices were and it didn’t take long for me to help myself to seconds.

There are a few secrets to making a really good carciofi salad, one that even Italians will compliment you on. First, you need to find the small purple artichokes from Italy called Morello or Morellino, which a specialty shop like Whole Foods might carry. Next you have to peel off all of the tough outer leaves. Slice off the prickly tops and the stems and cut the chokes in half.

Then- this is the key part- thinly slice the chokes vertically so that a piece of the heart is on the bottom every slice holding the leaves together. Toss the slices in a bowl with some finely chopped Italian parsley, fresh lemon juice and sea salt, and serve with shavings of a nicely aged Parmesean Reggiano.

As for the cannellini beans, soak a cup or two in a big bowl of water overnight. Rinse and put in a large pot with about 2 inches of over the top of the beans. Add a few sprigs of rosemary and bring the beans to a very low boil. Then turn the heat down as low as it will go and simmer the beans until tender, probably 30-45 minutes, making sure not to allow the skins to break. I put a cover on the pot and leave a little crack for the steam to get out so they don’t stand a chance of coming to another boil.

I always like to end my lunches in wintertime with a cup of chamomile tea and a few clementines from Sicily. I picked these up this morning at the open-air martket at Piazza Sant' Ambrogio. Aren't they pretty?

Sundays with Daniela

2010-02-11T08:48:00.000-08:00

My friend Daniela and I have gotten into this really fun routine on those Sundays when I am not working at Castello di Casole… I pick her up at around 9AM and we go to our health club for a workout and a steam in the Turkish bath. Afterwards we head out, on foot or by car, to a place I have never been, and walk around for awhile until our stomachs start rumbling. Then we find a restaurant she has heard about or has personally experienced and knows we will love. We wait for just the right table, order a glass (or when we’re in a particularly festive mood a bottle) of vino, and introduce ourselves to our waiter who, over the course of the next 2-3 hours, inevitably becomes our friend. Then we open our menus like kids on Christmas morning. I always do a quick scan for fish and chicken dishes before conducting a more thorough search of the day’s selection. Though it is irksome to Daniela at times that I don’t eat red meat, she can’t eat wheat and only occasionally indulges in cheese so it sort of evens out.

A few Sundays ago we had planned to take a road trip, but that particularly morning the sky was cobalt blue and the air was pure and crisp (“sano” as Daniela calls is). Florence was bathed in a dazzling golden light and it seemed like a perfect day to be outside. So we decided to walk from my apartment through the San Niccolo neighborhood up to Piazza Michelangelo to take in the views then head back downhill into Oltrarno (the other side of the Arno) for lunch.

I have been to Piazza Michelangelo a number of times, and each time I reach the summit and turn to face that sea of Renaissance treasures stretching out below me, it takes my breath away. A visit to the piazza is not complete without continuing up the road to the church of San Miniato which is still a functioning Dominican monastery. My favorite spot is the little chapel, built by the Medicis in honor of Jacopo of Portugal who died when he was only 26, with its plush ceiling of blue and white glazed terra cotta panels by Lucca della Robbia.

We had worked up quite an appetite by the time we descended into Oltrarno. We were hoping to get to Olio & Convivium before the lunch crowd arrived only to discover that it was closed. Luckily for us Daniela remembered an enoteca further down Via Santo Spirito called il Santino. When we opened the glass door and entered the warm, cozy room with a tiny bar and only four tables, I knew right away that this is a place I will return to many times in my life. All four tables were full so we stood at the bar and ordered a glass of vino rosso while Filippo, the “oste” as he is called here, prepared a small plate of Pecorino cheeses with a peppery jam. Next up was an order of baccala, a traditional Tuscan salt cod, in this case served as a creamy spread on slices of toasted bread drizzled with fresh olive oil.

Warming on a shelf below the bar were four steaming pots of various soups and stews. We both ordered the white root vegetable puree to start and I followed mine with a savory fish stew while Daniela opted for the polpette, tender small meatballs in a light tomato broth. Well into our second glasses of vino rosso we struck up a conversation with Filippo and a firefighter from Rome sitting next to us at the bar. Before we knew it another hour had passed and, as usual, we closed the place down.

Last Sunday Daniela told me she wanted to take me to a very “special place” in Cortona which she had been talking about for weeks. I was filled with anticipation as we drove an hour or so down the A1 through Arezzo. When we arrived in Cortona we were completely famished so, before heading to the “special place,” we went straight to Osteria del Teatro, an all-time favorite of Daniela’s tucked into a side street near the famous Teatro Signorelli. Seated at a corner table surrounded by cheerful yellow walls adorned with black and white photos of various theatre performances , we settled into a bottle of Achelo, a full-bodied Syrah from Cortona that cost a mere 12 euro.

Lunch for me was a trio of hearty Tuscan soups served in little terra cotta crock pots - pappa al pomodoro (bread and tomatoes), ribolitta (minestrone with bread) and mushroom and farro (a winter wheat-like grain), all served with more bread. Daniela ordered the Scrigno di Chianina- the famous Tuscan Chianina beef cooked in a glass jar in the oven at a very low temperature. As she savored each bite, she kept telling me, as she often does, how much I was missing by not eating red meat. “One of these days,” I assured her. “Piano, piano.” (Slowly, slowly).

Osteria del Teatro is known for its chocolate, so in preparation for dessert we went easy on the second course, ordering a medley of winter vegetables and white beans. When our waiter, Ferruccio, brought out a thick butcher block cutting board with several slabs of velvety light and dark confections, one dotted with nocciola (hazlenuts), I knew I was doomed. It took a good half-hour for us to polish off all of the mouth-watering shavings, some with hints of fruit, cinnamon, and even pepper. We were, once again, the last to leave, but before we said our goodbyes, Daniela made another lunch reservation for us on February 22nd, when Cortona honors Santa Margherita, its patron saint, with a big celebration. (I haven't told her this yet, but this time, if I get my courage up, I might just try a bite of beef or maybe even veal which seems to be the specialty of the house).

Our appetites satiated we were now ready to visit the “special place” Daniela had promised to take me to. As we wound our way down the hill from Cortona she suddenly turned right onto a long, hidden drive through fertile woods that follows the footsteps of St. Francis to Convento delle Celle, a 13th-century monastery believed to be founded by the saint in 1211.

What a gem this place is. Nicknamed “Cappuccini” after the brown robes with hoods worn by Franciscan monks who still live and worship there, the hermitage was built in a gorge carved by a stream that during the wintertime becomes a raging waterfall. After walking around the grounds, we sat and quieted our minds for awhile in the original cell of St. Francis where he made his home in 1226.

There is so much wonderfully soothing energy pulsating through this place, that had we not consumed an entire bottle of red wine and more chocolate than either one of us has eaten in the past year, we might have lingered. But it was getting dark and before heading back to Florence Daniela wanted to show me her home in the countryside near Arezzo which she owned in her 20s. As we walked away from the monastery I glanced to my right and was treated to this magical sight. It's no wonder St. Francis was drawn to this sacred place.

This coming Sunday I am trying to talk Daniela into going to Viareggio, a beach town an hour and a half by train from Florence, to see their Carnivale parade which is supposed to have the most incredible floats. If I stand any chance of success in getting her to join me I will need to find a really incredible restaurant so if you have any recommendations, please send them my way.

Carefree on Capri

2009-09-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

Back in July I got a call from my friend Hana whom I had befriended while we were both living in Aspen and who now works for Hewlett Packard and leads a very exciting life in London. Hana and I reconnected earlier this summer and quickly determined that it would be great fun to do some traveling together. We zeroed in on a long weekend in late August and started preparing a list of all the places we would like to see, including Sardinia, Greece and Croatia.

Then one day Hana sought the advice of a friend of hers, a well-traveled restaurant critic in London, who told her “Sardinia??? Oh no, you HAVE to go to Capri.” He made a list of where to stay, how to get there, what private beach clubs to go to, restaurants for lunch and dinner and where to people watch over aperitivos.

Capri has always topped my list of places to visit in Italy. It seems that everyone I meet at Castello di Casole has been there and has raved about how glamorous and visually stunning the island is. They have also told me how expensive and insanely crowded it is during the summers. Sharing the costs with a friend and visiting during the very last weekend in August seemed to solve both of those problems, so the decision was made and we booked a room for three nights at the Hotel Capri.

A month later, we met in Florence and caught an early morning, three-hour high-speed train to Naples. A forty-five minute ferry ride later, we arrived at the island I had fantasized about for so many years. The minute I laid eyes on Capri I understood why it has been a destination for the rich and famous for over 2500 years. It is much bigger than I had thought, and even more beautiful than I had imagined. It is almost frightening how steeply its jagged limestone surface colored green with woods and vegetation majestically rises out of the sea. The harbors and coves are dotted with yachts of varying sizes and shapes, some moored there for the entire summer.

We decided to get our bearings in the town of Capri while waiting for our luggage to arrive and realized within seconds of walking out of the hotel that Capri town is the LAST place in the world any sane person would want to be at that time of day. In July and August, hoards of tourists from the cruise liners and ferries pile into the funicular and buses up to the town and converge into a suffocating mob.

We high-tailed it back to the hotel, grabbed our beach bags and took the bus down to Marina Piccola where we discovered a delightful private club called Lo Scoglio della Serene, a smattering of lounge chairs and umbrellas tucked into little nooks and crannies on the flat rocks. We parked ourselves on two chaises and spent the next few hours relaxing in the sun and cooling off with occasional dips in the clear deep blue water. Emperor Augustus had it right when he named this place “Apragopolis” – “the land of sweet idleness.” I couldn’t even muster the energy to open my book.

On the way back to the hotel, we each bought a frilly white linen sundress then showered up and headed out for our first night on the town. Hana’s restaurant critic friend insisted that we have an aperitivo on the terrace at Quisisana, a world-renowned five-star hotel with the best people watching on Capri. The town was much more pleasant during the evening and we could finally see the storefronts of the designer shops lining the narrow, winding lanes. The terrace was packed when we got there but the head waiter Luigi quickly whisked us to a table perfectly situated for people-watching. I ordered the “Princess” - champagne with baby strawberries- and Hana had a "Rude Cosmopolitan" made with tequila, and for several hours we sat there gazing at all of the gorgeous men with scantily-clad supermodels on their arms stroll by. For those few hours we felt like princesses.

The next morning we took a bus up to the little town of Anacapri to buy some gifts and check out Villa St. Michele. This splendid residence was built by a Swedish doctor named Axel Munthe in the late 1890s on the site of the ruins of the St. Michael chapel built around 1000 AD. Several rooms in the villa have been preserved in their original condition and the residence is filled with Roman fragments and other valuable works of art. The Loggia of Sculptures with its marble bust of Tiberius is the biggest attraction but my favorite is the sphinx precariously perched on a ledge overlooking the most incredible views of the sea below.

I neglected to mention that immediately upon landing on the island the day before, Hana had informed me that Capri was famous for its custom-made leather sandals. Being a 5’10” shoe freak, I couldn’t help but notice the vast selection of beautiful, FLAT bejeweled sandals in window after window of the shops lining the streets of Capri town. There was simply no way I was leaving the island without a pair of my own.

So on our way to a private beach club called Fontellina, I stopped in the shop with what I thought were the most attractive sandals and ordered a pair with gold straps and large glistening cut glass stones. The shoes would be made that day with the final fitting at 7PM – just in time for drinks at Quisisana later that evening.

We arrived at Fontellina by descending a long and steep footpath with very slippery stone steps. (Rubber flips are highly recommended!) We set up shop on white, canvas-covered, thick foam mats spread out over a concrete slab that somehow managed to feel both elegant and comfortable. Later that afternoon we sauntered up to the pergola-covered restaurant for lunch in our beach cover-ups and ordered a pitcher of white sangria loaded with mangoes, oranges, lemons and mint at the recommendation of three attractive Italian men with whom I had engaged in a lively discussion during an earlier, rather lengthy dip in the sea. Hana ordered the Linguini Fontellina with crustaceans and I had a grilled whitefish called “dorato” with olive oil and lemon. We enjoyed the breeze and the incredible views until every last drip of sangria and every
morsel of food was gone.

That evening we donned our favorite summer dresses and headed straight to the shoe shop to pick up my sandals. Fortunately they fit perfectly and I kept glancing down at them lovingly throughout the evening. We decided that rather than hoover down all of the olives, crackers and peanuts served with our Princesses at Quisisana, where Tina Turner was sitting just a few tables away, we would have a nice dinner at one of the restaurants with outdoor tables lining the street further down from the designer shops. Sophisticated “edodē” had the most interesting menu, plus the waiters were really nice. We sat in our own candlelit booth and ordered two appetizers- a fresh ricotta salad and a raw crostini platter which included the freshest tuna tartare on a bed of raw potatoes, a tender red shrimp from Sicily, and thinly sliced sea brine. This time we opted for a bottle of Toscos- a light and fruity pinot bianco from Friuli.

The third day was definitely the highlight of the trip. We took the funicular down to Marina Grande where our own private boat manned by 19-year old Captain Roberto was waiting for us. For several hours we puttered around the island, swam through the famous White Grotto and admired the breathtaking beauty all around us. Then Roberto motored us over to the Amalfi Coast to a little harbor called Nerano and we walked off the boat and up the dock to a fabulous open-air restaurant called Lo Scoglio.

Hana’s friend the restaurant critic knew what he was talking about when he recommended Lo Scoglio. The Caprese salad had mozzarella so fresh it must have come right out of the cow. We ordered marinated anchovies and the local fish called “pezzogna” which the waiter recommended we have baked rather than grilled, a side of fried courchettes (zucchini blossoms) and a bottle of the Antinori Cevaro della Sala I had first tasted at Badia di Passignano in Chianti a few weeks prior. I experienced mild heart palpitations when the bill arrived but this lunch really was worth every penny.

Later that evening we reminisced about our long, taxing day at sea over glasses of Rosé in the main Piazza which was considerably less crowded because it was Sunday. We ordered salads at a little trattoria and tumbled into bed. On our last day, we had to catch a ferry in the afternoon so we took a final spin around Anacapri and then fueled up for the train ride back to Florence with a light lunch at a corner table overlooking the sea at Ciro a Mare in Marina Piccola.

My first experience on Capri far exceeded my expectations. Simply, put, it was blissful, and it was so fun to share it with a good friend. I can’t wait to go back again next year, this time in June or September when it’s not so crowded. Maybe I’ll even check out the impressive ruins of Villa Jovis (Villa of Jupiter). Built for Emperor Tiberius of Rome during the 1st-century BC, this massive 59,000 square-foot villa is situated near the famous “Tiberius’ Leap” where, according to local legend, disobedient servants and undesired guests were hurled over the cliff by order of the Emperor. Hmmm. On second thought, maybe I’ll just opt for a little more “sweet idleness” ….

An Antinori Affair to Remember

2009-08-23T01:29:00.000-07:00

It is a rare Saturday during the height of our busy season at Castello di Casole that I wake up feeling caught enough up on work to spend the day exploring. Thankfully yesterday was one of those Saturdays. As I contemplated my options over a steaming cup of Chai tea, I recalled hearing some clients rave about a special place in Tavarnelle owned by the Antinori family where they were able to order Tignanello and other phenomenal Italian wines by the glass. Tavarnelle is only about 30 minutes from Castello di Casole, so I threw on a sundress, grabbed my handbag and hat, and headed out on a long overdue adventure.

Normally I do everything in my power to avoid having to use my GPS system. I have seen GPS devices almost destroy marriages in this country and I have had my own share of annoying experiences. One day I was driving home on the superhighway from Assisi, when suddenly the woman on my Garmin GPS shouted out “Drive 100 meters and take an immediate U-turn!” Right. I ripped the machine out of the cigarette lighter and almost threw it out the window.

Fortunately I still had the GPS because when I got to Tavarnelle, which is in Chianti, I realized I had no idea where I was going. After driving around aimlessly trying to find signs for Badia di Passignano, I almost gave up and turned around. I had no choice but to turn to the GPS and within ten minutes I was parking the car in this delightful hidden hamlet.

According to the website, there are claims that the monastery of Passignano was completed as early as 395, though the monastery archives date back to the year 891. In 1049 Badia passed into the order of a reformed branch of the Benedictines who specialized in winegrowing and forestry. Over time the order became so powerful that it owned a quarter of Tuscany. Then in 1255 the abbey was attacked, burned and razed to the ground by the Florentines. Big surprise. In the 1500s the abbey was an important center for theological, literary and scientific studies. About 100 monks lived there, and it is reported that Galileo taught mathematics there from 1587-1588. Unfortunately the monastic life was suspended and many monastery treasures were lost in 1810 under Napoleon. Another big surprise.

Antinori purchased the vineyards around Badia in 1987. The abbey is still owned by the monks, although Antinori has the use of the cellars. The abbey was closed when I arrived so I strolled around the grounds and took some photos. Then I decided to seek out Osteria di Passignano, the restaurant and enoteca that Allegra Antinori opened in the late 1990s which sells all of the Antinori wines, plus fine wines from all over Italy.

I didn’t really know what I was doing when I poked my head into the enoteca, so I introduced myself as a real estate agent for Castello di Casole and asked if I could taste a few wines. Within minutes, the manager Marcello was guiding me to an ornately set, white-clothed table. As I took in the beautiful restaurant surrounding me, I knew I was in for a treat. Maurizio, the master sommelier, poured me a glass of sparkling wine and I started to peruse the menu and the hefty leather-bound wine list.

I could have gone for the €60 five-course Tasting Menu or the €100 Tasting Menu accompanied by a glass of wine for each course, but I wasn’t that hungry so I opted for the Mollusk and Sea Water Risotto with Basil and Cherry Tomato Pesto. The waiter started me off with an amuse bouche of octopus soup, its salty, savory broth soaking a paper-thin wafer.

He also brought me a little silver platter of beautifully presented homemade crackers, sesame seed breadsticks, focaccia and breads, a refreshing departure from the saltless, flavorless, often slightly stale bread served in most restaurants in Tuscany.

I literally gasped when the waiter presented me with my risotto surrounded by tiny tender mollusks and drips of dark green pesto. Risotto is one of my favorite dishes and I have ordered it in restaurants at least fifty times in my life. I can honestly say that this is the best risotto I have ever tasted. Nestled in the rice, which was cooked to perfection and lightly seasoned with herbs and cheese, were poached cherry tomatoes that melted in my mouth. With each morsel I took a sip of the 2007 Cervaro delle Sala “Antinori” Maurizio had chosen for me, a creamy blend of Chardonnay and Grecchetto (a white grape from Umbria) with a hint of walnuts which Maurizio informed me was rated by Wine Spectator as one of the finest white wines in all of Italy.

I would have been quite happy to call it quits after the risotto. But the next thing I knew, the waiter brought out a silver basket of homemade biscotti and cookies, and a ceramic ladle cradling three homemade dark and white chocolate truffles, one sprouting a trio of dried sage leaves. I ordered an espresso and opened the massive wine list.

For several years Maurizio has been building this list which is now up to 365 labels including sich greats as Solaia, Gaja, Sassicaia, Ornellaia, the best Brunellos and French Bordeaux, and Stag’s Leap in Napa and Col Solade in Washington State (both of which Antinori is part owner with Chateau St. Michelle). The selection is enough to make a wine connoisseur weep. After noting the €500 for a bottle of ’06 Ornellaia Masseto, I was pleased to hear that Maurizio’s focus now is to bring in more wines in the €20-€50 price range.

As I relucantly got up from the table and said my thank yous to Marcello, Maurizio and the incredible waitstaff, I was reminded that there are times in life when it pays to have no expectations. My lunch at Badia di Passignano on a random summer Saturday was an experience I will never forget.

Next time I will be taking a tour of the cellars with Maurizio which normally occur Monday – Saturday at 3:30PM and require a reservation. If you are planning a trip to Tuscany and you love food and wine, lunch or dinner at Osteria di Passignano should be on your itinerary somewhere, somehow. Call Marcello at +39 055 8071278 and let him know I sent you.

Meet My Friend Barbara

2009-08-22T02:54:00.001-07:00

I come in contact with a lot of people through my job selling luxury villas at Castello di Casole, which is, incidentally, the best job I have ever had in my life. Almost inevitably during the course of a tour with clients or a conversation with an owner or guest at the estate, the question comes up, “So Jennifer, what is it like living in Italy?”

During my first few months here, I found myself replying with remarks like “Oh, I love my little medieval hilltop town and waking up to the sound of horses neighing and church bells ringing.” Nowadays my responses are more like “I am having the time of my life. But what has really made the difference for me are my friends Anna Lisa, Barbara and Giuseppe, and my new friend Daniela in Florence."

I have moved around quite a bit in my life. I have lived in Indiana, Ohio, Illinois, Iowa, Connecticut, Virginia, Washington DC, New York, California, Colorado, and now Italy. In every place, it hasn’t been the house or the school or the job or the scenery that have made it home, it has been my friends. And it is my friends who are making Italy home for me now.

I introduced you to Barbara in a previous blog. Since I wrote that piece, we have become very close. Her story is fascinating. Barbara grew up in an Amish community in Pennsylvania and was one of nine children. She spent most of her childhood helping the family out on the farm, cooking, cleaning, churning butter, and working two jobs in high school so she could put herself through college. She became quite a successful career woman in her twenties, had a beautiful daughter, and got married to Gary. She ended up leaving Gary after after falling madly in love with Tom, who after they became engaged, proceeded to have a heart attack and die while she was in Italy with friends.

Shell-shocked and feeling the need to make big changes in her life, she walked away from a lucrative job in Orlando, several properties in Florida, mani/pedis and Iron Man competitions, and became a first mate on a sailboat in the Carribbean for three months. Then she fulfilled a lifelong dream and came over to Italy for a summer where she met Giuseppe who she now lives with, along with his parents, at their winery called i Selvatici in Chianti.

I recently finished reading a draft of Barbara’s memoirs, which I couldn't put down, and which she is 100% focused on publishing right now. Her story is meant to inspire other women who feel trapped and too afraid to leave their unfulfulled lives for a chance at real happiness. She is sexy and spirited and her enthusiasm for life is boundless. Barbara is a big believer in visualization and often talks about her upcoming book tour and her appearance on Oprah when the book is published. She is constantly reminding me of how important it is to stay positive, and that what we say and think is what we attract in our lives. For these reasons and more, I adore her.

In the short time we have known each other, we have had some really fun experiences together. One afternoon following her language class in Florence, we met for lunch at a wonderful little enoteca called Le Volpe e l'Uva in a tiny piazza near Pitti Palace that my friend Anna Lisa had recommended where the owner Giancarlo brought us glasses of the most delicious Sicilian white wines to accompany our Caprese salads with the sweetest cherry tomatoes ever. Then she took me to a vintage clothing shop where we played dress-up and giggled like schoolgirls.

Afterwards, we huffed and puffed our way up to Piazza Michelangelo and into the San Miniato church with its exquisite Renaissance chapel adorned by a plush ceiling of glazed terra-cotta panels by Luca della Robia. We spent some time taking in the views of our favorite city in the world spread out below us, then chatted over spritzes at the Roberto Cavalli café before she caught the train home to Montevarchi.

I cherish my times with Barbara, and whenever I say goodbye to her, I feel a little sad that I won’t see her again for awhile. I hope her book hits the top of the New York Times bestseller list. When it does, I'll be front and center in that audience on Oprah...

Finding Sanctuary at the Sea

2009-08-17T13:06:00.000-07:00

Okay, I’m back. I took a little break from blogging because we have been selling like crazy at Castello di Casole and I haven’t had many opportunities to get out and explore. Plus, I was starting to feel pressure to always write about everything I was doing and I found that it was taking away from the experiences a bit. But lately quite a few people have asked me why haven’t been blogging and I realized that I have kind of missed it. So here I am sitting at the computer once again sharing a story with you.

I have found that people who visit the Tuscan countryside are not always aware that the coast is so close and it doesn’t necessarily occur to them to make the hour and a half drive to the Tyrrhenian Sea. If they do, they often head to swanky Forte dei Marmi, or to the Cinque Terre to do the famous hike to the five villages, both of which are terribly crowded during July and August, dreadfully so on weekends.

It has been blisteringly hot in Tuscany this summer and I had been craving the beach for the past month but I really haven’t wanted to go alone. So a few weeks ago when I was invited by my new friend David, whom I met at a concert in Lucca, to join him for a day at the sea, I jumped at the opportunity. We agreed to meet in Cecina which is about an hour and 15 minute drive from Castello di Casole on the backroads through Volterra. (The highways are to be avoided at all costs on the weekend). I dropped my car off in a parking lot and hopped on the back of David’s motorcycle and we zoomed off to Castiglioncello just 20 kilometers south of Livorno.

Castiglioncello is a sweet little seaside town lined with cute shops selling bathing suits and resortwear. It has the feel of an island cove, sheltered by cliffs and hills that plunge right down to the sea. Back in its heyday Sophia Loren, Federico Fellini and other famous Italians had summer homes in Castligloncello but it eventually became out of fashion and the celebs moved on, and some of their homes are now hotels and restaurants.

After a light lunch in on a terrace in the main piazza we strolled down a shop-lined street to a steep set of stairs leading down to the beach. Below us were a few small, lively resorts with rows of lounge chairs and colorful umbrellas which we bypassed in favor of a quieter stretch of beach (which is made up of small pebbles, not sand). It being a Saturday, I was pleasantly surprised to find no throngs of sun-worshipping tourists, just locals out frolicking in the sea. The crystal clear water was bright blue, refreshingly cool and not too salty.

After a swim and a short rest in the sun, we got back on the motorcycle and drove north to Montenero, a hilltop town overlooking Livorno and the site for a famous pilgrimage site called the Santuario di Montenero. Legend has it that sometime around 1345 a crippled shepherd discovered at the foot of the hill a painting of the Virgin Mary which had been miraculously transported there from an island off the coast. The shepherd had a vision and was driven to carry the image up to the top of the hill. When he arrived at the top he was cured of his illness.
Since then people from all over Italy and other parts of the world have flocked to a little chapel erected there that was later replaced by the famous sanctuary dedicated to Our Lady of Grace.

Aside from my experience arriving in London on the day of Lady Di’s funeral, this is the biggest shrine I have ever laid eyes on. Room after room is filled with paintings and drawings depicting scenes of people being saved or healed, letters dating back to the 1700s, articles of clothing, medals and other relics that have been offered up as thanks to the Virgin Mary. I could have spent hours reading the stories of the tragedies and struggles these thousands of people faced and how they were saved or healed by the Virgin.

David is from Livorno and he wanted to show me around, so we drove through the city and past the US Naval Academy to the harbor where his friend keeps a boat they will be sailing in a big race around the Amalfi Coast in a few weeks. On the way he explained that Livorno was bombed by the Germans in WWII and unfortunately most of the beautiful, old buildings were destroyed so it is not as visually appealing as other Tuscan cities. Apparently there is a section of town near the harbor with canals much like Venice that we didn’t have time to check out, but hopefully I will get there on a return trip.

That evening we enjoyed an apertivo at Dai Dai, a fun little bar overlooking the cove of Castiglioncello. I ordered “spritz”- a bright orange, refreshing blend of Aperol, white wine and sparkling water. Then we headed downhill to a restaurant owned by a friend of David’s that sits on a pier in a small harbor. As the sun was setting to our right in dazzling pink , the moon shimmering over the harbor was rising to our left-a truly magical setting.

The meal was one of the best I have had in Tuscany. We started with a glass of Prosecco and a small plate of raw crostini al mare- a single shrimp and a single scampi (which is a slightly larger shrimp) a bright red incredibly flavorful mussel, a clam and a slice of sardine with a touch of olive oil and sea salt. The next course was my favorite- black squid ink pasta with mussels and clams swimming in a light broth that tasted like it came right out of the sea. I savored every bite and it paired perfectly with a light, crisp white wine from Friuli in northern Italy. Next up was a tender, perfectly cooked white fish with lightly steamed vegetables. The grande finale- a fluffy Ricotta mousse with perfectly ripe strawberries. (Unfortunately I forgot to pick up a card from the restaurant and David is off sailing for two weeks so I can’t give you the name. I am sure if you ask for the restaurant on the pier owned by Alberto’s family, someone will know what you are talking about…)

It was a long drive back to Casole d’Elsa, and when I arrived home I fell into bed with a big smile on my face. I must at admit that spending the day with a 6’3” extremely attractive Italian man might have had an impact on the rather positive light in which I had perceived my surroundings. Nonetheless, Castiglioncello is a delightful little town to visit on a hot summer day and the Sanctuary at Montenero, I must say, is a must-see.

Baaaaaack to the Farm

2009-04-26T11:00:00.001-07:00

One evening last week I had dinner in the home of a Sardinian sheep farming family. I can’t believe I just wrote that. But it’s true. I had heard about this family and the incredible cheeses they make from my friend Vittorio Cambio who owns a beautiful property called Villa Ferraia near Monticiano about 45 minutes south of Castello di Casole. I asked Vittorio if he would bring me along the next time he visited the family to which he replied “Why should I?? Then you will write about it on your blog and everyone will know about it!!”

I had all but forgotten about this family and their cheeses when out of the blue Vittorio called and asked if I would join him for dinner with his friends at the sheep farm, and he also told me I could bring a few people as well. Coincidentally, a wonderful couple, Gayle and Paul, who are waiting for their farmhome to be built at Castello di Casole were staying at our private guesthouse. So we all jumped in the car with our umbrellas on a rainy Sunday evening and set off towards Radicondoli where Vittorio guided us down a nondescript gravel road to the sheep farm of Giovanni Porcu.

As we arrived, the sheep (pecori) were excitedly queuing up for a quick meal and milking in the barn. When Giovanni gave them the signal, a group of about 30 sheep rushed through a little opening between the barn and the milking area and lined up one next to the other along a long trough filled with food until every open space was claimed. Tubes with powerful suction hoses were attached to the teats of the sheep and while they were being milked they chomped away at their dinners. As we were watching this fascinating spectacle, Giovanni’s farmhand passed into my arms a baby sheep with the softest white fur that had been born the day before. I could have held onto that little bleating bundle of joy for hours.

Vittorio led us through a room where the milk was being directed into a large steel container and into the cheese-making facility. About twenty big rounds of bright white cheese were bobbing in a large vat of water to remove the salt they had been curing in. Others were still packed in salt in big plastic containers. As we proceeded to a particular closed door, Vittorio warned us that the aroma we were about to encounter was not unlike that of bad foot odor. We headed into a room loaded with trays cheeses of various shapes and shades from creamy white to dark yellow, all covered in mold. Some had been made with rennet (expelled from the lining of baby sheep stomachs after their first suckling- you might not have wanted to know that). Others were made with a vegetable rennet which is a slower process dating back to the times of Dante but well worth the wait.

Then Vittorio opened another door that led into a little shop where the family sells their cheeses to the public. He chose three cheeses for us to sample, starting with the youngest which had been aged for three months with a smooth, slightly nutty flavor, to the oldest called Tallegio which was covered in a moldy rind and quite potent. All three were delicious and a great precursor to the incredible dinner awaiting us.

When we entered the Porcu family farmhome, Giovanni’s wife Giovanna was rolling out dough for the appetizers and dessert stuffed with different blends of pecorino cheeses and deep fried into puffy, mouth-wateringly delicacies. A different type of dough was rolled out and fed into a pasta maker for the raviolis stuffed with fresh ricotta and herbs. While we watched Giovanna and her daughters prepare dinner, Giovanni brought out a big bowl-shaped hunk of the freshest, fluffiest, creamiest ricotta I have ever tasted. I had several large spoonfuls and had to stop myself from eating the whole thing. Plates of steaming stuffed treats then a huge roasted leg of lamb circled the table. Vittorio served as our translator as we shared stories of our lives over the wonderful meal and big pitchers of Rosso di Montepulciano.

As we bade farewell to our new Sardinian friends and stepped out into the rainy black night, Gayle, Paul and I were a little overcome by the extraordinary experience we had just shared. It is one that we will never forget, and it’s yet another reason why so many of us are so drawn to this little stretch of Italian countryside.

New Friends and Great Wines

2009-04-21T02:35:00.001-07:00

When I first arrived in Tuscany back in mid-February, my associate and good friend Georgia suggested that I meet her friends Barbara and Guiseppe at Giuseppe’s family winery in Chianti. At the time, the two were in the States hosting dinners and wine tastings in the homes of their clients, a clever way to escape the wet winters in Tuscany.

When they returned I was delighted to receive an email from Barbara inviting me to spend an afternoon with them at their winery near Montevarchi. On the day of my visit I took the GPS system out of the box it had been sitting in for two weeks and punched in the address of the winery. There are hundreds of wineries in Chianti, so as I set off for the verdant hills and winding roads of Chianti, I have to say that I wasn’t focusing on the wine so much as the opportunity to make new friends.

When I arrived at I Selvatici and entered the tasting room, Barbara and Giuseppe greeted me as though we had known each other for years. I had been there only a few minutes when Barbara said “Wait, there’s a problem here! You’re not holding a glass of wine.” She led me to a table neatly set with three wine glasses lined up at each plate and when Giuseppe brought over a plate of various cheeses, I knew I was in for a treat.

Giuseppe Sala is a third-generation winemaker and the only one in his family to speak English. His grandfather bought their 30 acres of land and the 15th-century villa complete with its own chapel and wine cellar in the 1950s. It was Giuseppe’s idea to build the light and spacious tasting room where he hosts private tastings and events for his clients. Relative to other larger commercial wineries in Tuscany with extravagantly landscaped grounds, guided tours, lavish lunches and fully stocked shops selling their wines, olive oil and other products, there is a noticeable lack of pomp and circumstance at I Selvatici. It is all about the wine, and for good reason.

The first vintage Giuseppe poured was a 2007 Chianti, a blend of Sangiovese and another local grape called Canaiolo. As we sipped away Giuseppe and Barbara shared with me some very interesting facts about Chianti. Here are a few I jotted down:

- Chianti is actually a region, like Bourdeaux, not a grape.
- In order for a bottle to earn the right to wear the pink neck label, the grapes must have been grown and pressed in Chianti without any irrigation and the blend must be at least 75% Sangiovese.
- Chianti “Reserve” simply means the wine has been aged for three years.
- Chianti Classico is a region within Chianti, not a special reserve wine. Chianti Classicos are distinguished by a black rooster on their pink neck labels.
- There four other regions in Chianti are- Colle Arentini (around Arezzo) Colle Ferentini (around Florence), Colle Senese (around Siena) and Colle Pisani (around Pisa).

While Giuseppe began to pour the second tasting, a 1997 Super Tuscan called Cardisco (which means Sangiovese in Italian) comprised of100% Sangiovese into our glasses, his eyes lit up and he became quite animated. This was clearly a wine he as very proud of and as I swirled and sniffed the liquid then took my first sip, I could easily see why. Usually Sangioveses are a bit too harsh and acidic for my personal taste, but this wine was surprisingly smooth, especially when paired with a hard aged cheese like the Parmesean Reggiono we were enjoying it with.

I had always assumed that a wine made from 100% of the same grape was easier to make than a blend, but Giuseppe was quick to point out that blends are actually easier because you can keep adding a bit of this, a bit of that, until you get exactly what you are looking for. Whereas with a 100% Sangiovese, it’s pretty much all up to Mother Nature and you get what you get each harvest season. The real art for Giuseppe is determining how much time each year’s vintage should be aged in French Oak barrels after it ferments before it is transferred to steel tanks. Obviously he is very good at this part of the process because Cardisco has consistently earned a 93 rating from Wine Spectator and goes for about $200 for a bottle at restaurants in the U.S.

After a lunch that included bruschetta with some of the sweetest cherry tomatoes I have ever tasted, Giuseppe poured the grande finale- a 1999 Vin Santo. I have had my fair share of this traditional Tuscan dessert wine, which is usually served with biscotti for dipping. You wouldn’t want even a speck of biscotti, however, to fall into the sweet, sultry nectar that Giuseppe has created by blending Malvasia, Treppiano, Columbaio and a touch of Sangiovese which helps give it that rich amber color. There is no wonder that Wine Spectator has given this Vin Santo a 98 rating.

As I was savoring every sip, Giuseppe told me that Vin Santo is actually aged in an attic, as opposed to a cellar, where the heat and humidity work their magic. Each rib on the barrels is made of a different wood- chestnut, oak, juniper, Tuscan Oak, and another local wood called gelso. One day a few years ago, Giuseppe was rummaging through the attic in his home at the winery and discovered two barrels of Vin Santo that had been aging there for fifty years. He opened the cork fully expecting the wine to have turned, but instead he was greeted with a pleasant scent was so powerful that he knew something very special was inside. Three quarters of the barrels were sediment, and he and his father cut the remaining quarter which was a thick, heavy syrup, with Malvasia until it achieved the consistency of honey which they poured magic into small 3 oz. bottles which they sell for €600. Giuseppe let me taste a smidgen of this divine magic in a glass and there are simply not words to describe the exquisite taste and texture that lingered on my palate the whole drive home.

I am grateful to have become friends with Barbara and Giuseppe. While I enjoyed their wines immensely, I enjoyed their company even more. They are very special people and their stories, some of which I will share in future postings, are fascinating. Something tells me we are going to have many fun adventures together while I am living in Tuscany…

Cashmere in Chianti- Who Knew?

2009-04-13T02:40:00.000-07:00

Last weekend had an incredible “this is why I live here!” experience that I have to share with you. My friend Joyce Falcone, of The Italian Concierge, who has a knack for finding really special, off-the-beaten-path places for her touring business, had told me to stop by a place called Chianti Cashmere in Radda in Chianti. All her email said is “American expat living in Radda for 30 years.” It wasn’t much to go on, but I had a free Saturday afternoon, the weather was lovely, and Radda is only a 40 minute drive from Castello di Casole so I jumped in the car, filled with excitement about yet another Tuscan adventure.

The scenery is such a feast for the eyes in Chianti that I could have spent the whole afternoon just driving around, but I was on a mission so I followed the directions which led me through Radda, down the hill and turning left at the fork onto SP72. Just 600 meters on the left is a little sign of a goat below a nondescript mailbox. The drive descends through a quiet forest where I sighted little groups of long-haired black and white goats grazing on the hillsides. At the end of the drive I pulled up to a little building and heard voices so I entered the shop.

The owner of Chianti Cashmere, Nora Kravis, was just in the middle of explaining her cashmere operation to some visitors and I was able to learn that Nora has 300 goats on her farm. She combs the Cashmere every spring (as opposed to shearing which leaves the poor goats with no protection from the elements) and then sends the fiber to northern Italy to have it de-haired and spun into yarn, which takes an entire year, believe it or not.

I was surprised to learn that in order to knit just one large scarf you need wool from three goats. The prices, which are quite reasonable given the extremely high quality, depend on how finely woven the yarn is. Her handmade scarves, wraps and throws are exquisite. Each one is a work of art in all natural colors (she uses no artificial dyes) and so incredibly soft. Nora also has a line of sumptuous goat’s milk soaps and body products, including a hand cream that I am now addicted to.

Just talking to Nora and hearing her story is worth the trip. She clearly loves what she does and she never tires of sharing her experiences with other people. Originally from Long Island, Nora landed in Radda in 1972 and was out exercising horses one day when she discovered a dilapidated little stone farmhouse nestled into the side of a steep, rocky hill. The views were magical and it felt like home so Nora restored the farmhouse so over the next ten years, during which she attended veterinary school in Pisa. Over time her family grew to include several dogs, five horses, two sheep, hens, a rooster, and two goats, Bella and Bestia.

Those two goats have grown into a group of genetically selected Cashmere goats, with wide-spread origins and wonderful names like Houdini, Igloo, Chatterbox, Mr. Magoo and Ice Cream. I found out from Nora that her little goat herd has become recognized nationally and in other countries of the EEC. Not only is it the first privately owned Cashmere goat herd in Italy, it is the genetic data base and source for reproductive animals across the country.

Nora’s farm is actually an agriturismo, (a B&B/farm combo) so you can stay there for a few nights and comb the goats or participate in whatever else is going on at the farm and explore the surrounding towns including Panzano, Greve and the adorable little hamlet of Volpaia. She also offers lunches featuring vegetables from her organic garden and tastings of goat’s milk cheeses- you just need to schedule this a few weeks in advance.

Chianti Cashmere is a special place owned and operated by an even more special woman, and if you happen to be in Chianti, it’s a “must see.”

A New Friend and a New Appreciation for Buonconvento

2009-03-17T23:53:00.001-07:00

Last Thursday I drove south to Buonconvento, about 45 minutes from Castello di Casole. I had driven by Buonconvento several times and I had always looked curiously at that imposing stone wall wondering what lies behind it. But I was always rushing to get somewhere else and, quite frankly, it seemed a bit ho-hum compared with all of the intriguing castles, abbeys and churches dotting the hills of the beautiful valley south of Siena called the Val d’Orcia. This time, however, I was on my way to meet a friend of a friend I had connected with via email a few days earlier.

So when Anna Lisa Tempestini led me to the wall, through the gate and down a few lanes, I was pleasantly surprised to discover an adorable little village buzzing with activity. We stopped for an espresso and poked our heads into a few nice clothing and leather shops and everywhere we went the townspeople greeted Anna Lisa warmly. She pointed out her favorite restaurant, Osteria di Mario, and we agreed that during a future visit we would enjoy a long, leisurely lunch on the patio.

Anna Lisa and her husband and children live in an old monastery complete with its own centuries-old chapel and a breathtaking view of Montalcino. She has her own little vineyard where she grows mainly Sangiovese grapes for her boutique wine called Martin del Nero, producing only about 4,000 bottles of each year. Anna Lisa has built a business around the things she loves most- wine, food, and introducing people to the treasures of the Val d’Orcia. The joy she finds in her work comes through in her blog, http://www.fattoriaresta.blogspot.com/ which she keeps for clients and friends.

She and her husband have a deep appreciation for the origins and history of their home. In the cellar there is an inscription that was chiseled by the builder, Martin del Nero, in 1573 in which he asks god to bless the part of the cellar where the wine is stored and expresses his hope that he has done a good job building the monastery. They chose to honor this humble man with a fondness for wine who created their beautiful home by naming Anna Lisa’s wine after him.

Anna Lisa also has a passion for cooking and picks organic vegetables from a neighbor’s garden whenever she wants so lunch was quite a treat. We started with a light chicken salad and layers of eggplant and tomatoes that had been slowly cooking on the stovetop, followed by homemade ricotta cheese with a delicious wholegrain bread we dipped in olive oil pressed from olives grown on her land. We shared stories over lunch and a few glasses of a light and fruity Laura Aschero Vermentino from the Ligurian coast. Then we made a brief stop at the Altesino winery where Anna Lisa's latest release of Martin del Nero is finishing it fermentation in a big stainless steel tank and paused for a photo on their lovely grounds.

After lunch, I retraced our steps back to the Abbey of Monte Oliveto Maggiore. The trip was worth it for the drive alone which winds around vineyard-speckled, tree-topped hills that seem to bubble right out of the land. The stunning Benedictine abbey perched atop a cliff was founded in 1319 by three Senese noblemen who apparently decided to give up their wealth in favor of living according to the rule of St. Benedict. It was built from 1393 to 1526 and you enter the grounds over a drawbridge. The gothic church is wondrous but the highlight is the series of 36 beautifully preserved frescoes by Luca Signorelli and Sodoma depicting the life of St. Benedict that decorate the four walls of the main cloisters. The abbey still produces honey and distilled herbal spirits made according to ancient recipes that are sold in a little shop. Monks live on the premises and they hold masses with Gregorian chanting daily. The best view of the abbey is from the town of Chiusura where there is also a great restaurant Anna Lisa recommended called Il Pozzo di Chiusura.

I think a perfect daytrip from Castello di Casole would start with a visit to Buonconvento in the late morning while the museum and shops are open, followed by a leisurely lunch at Osteria di Mario. Then a drive through the countryside, maybe stopping in medieval San Quirico d’Orcia and Bagno Vignoni and with its 11th-century castle famous for its thermal springs frequented by Romans, ending up at the Abbey at around 4pm or 5pm. If you really want the full experience, evening mass and chanting starts at 6:15pm.

San Galgano: Inspiration for King Arthur?

2009-03-09T13:47:00.001-07:00

God bless Italy. I just love their legends! Today I drove to the Abbey of San Galgano at the recommendation of Joyce Falcone, a friend of mine from Aspen who leads food, wine and walking tours throughout Italy with her company The Italian Concierge. She knows all sorts of little off-the-beaten-path gems in Tuscany so every time I plan a trip I send her a quick email to get ideas beforehand and she always comes through for me. I was particulaly appreciative of this tip becase the abbey is only a 20-minute drive from Castello di Casole.

Sir Galgano, the son of a nobleman in Tuscany, according to one website I came across, was “vicious and full of lust.” Then one day he had a vision involving an archangel and he fled from his family and friends and became a hermit. His family was quite distraught, as one would expect, and they finally convinced him to pay a visit to his fiancée. On the way, his horse threw him and he had yet another vision involving another archangel who guided him to a hilltop and told him to give up all of his material possessions.

Galgano objected, admitting that though giving up worldly pleasures sounded good, doing so would be as easy as using his sword to split rocks. So he drew his weapon and thrust at a stone, fully expecting the blade to snap. The stone split like butter and the sword penetrated to hilt, and Galgano never left the hill again.

Apparently San Galgano kept company with wolves and other wild animals. One day he faced the Devil, who sent an evil man disguised as a monk. The wolves that lived with Galgano killed the would-be assassin and gnawed at his bones. One year later, Galgano died and a chapel was built that still houses his sword in the stone.

It gets better. After the Saint's death his scalp continued to grow blond curls for a long time, and the miraculous head was placed in one side of the chapel, and the chewed bones of the arms of the evil man in another (which are still in the chapel). You can imagine the number of pilgrims these relics attracted. So in order to accommodate them, one of the most beautiful Gothic abbeys in all of Italy was erected in San Galgano's honor.
The abbey was quite a force to be reckoned with in the late 1200s and early 1300s but then the Black Plague hit and the abbey rapidly disintegrated. Parts of it, including the lead roof, were eventually sold off. So now it sits there empty, beautiful, roofless and overgrown. (In the summertime, there is a series of nighttime opera performances on the lawn of the abbey.)

A study by the medieval historian Mario Moiraghi suggests that the story of San Galgano and his sword was the origin of the myth of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, embellished by medieval troubadours as it spread from Tuscany throughout Europe.

A Drizzly Day at the Designer Outlets

2009-03-06T01:31:00.000-08:00

This week my fashionista friend, Lisa Johnson, hosted the first-ever Aspen Fashion Week in my hometown of Aspen, Colorado. From what I understand, it was a raging success. Valentino himself attended the screening of “Valentino: The Last Emporer” only to receive a standing ovation in the packed theater at the close of the documentary.

So to get my own dose of fashion this week, I decided to make the rounds of the designer outlets south of Florence on a very rainy Wednesday. My primary goal was to find a stylish pair of black flat shoes that wouldn’t fall apart trouncing around the very dusty, often muddy "sacred white Tuscan roads" at Castello di Casole this spring. The entire trip took about six hours including lunch at a café and quite a few wrong turns but it was well worth it.

My first stop was a little outlet just south of Florence called D&D (with the first D drawn backwards). I never would have known about this place had it not been for the ever resourceful Silvia Anchini, Program Director of Castello di Casole’s Vintners Club and longtime resident of Florence. She told me about this little gem when I was in the market for inexpensive, colorful cashmere sweaters and jeans last fall. D&D has a hip, Soho warehousy feel representing a hodge-podge of Italian designers. The highlight was a new spring line from Roberto Cavalli in bright florals. [To get there from Castello di Casole, head north on the Firenze-Siena highway until it dead ends at the roundabout in Firenze-Certosa. Take the first exit towards Florence and turn left at the Relais Hotel Certosa then follow the signs for D&D around to the left. There is a great little wine shop called Vinoteca Chianti on the corner across from the hotel which is worth a stop on the way out].

Then I jumped on the A1 towards Roma and got off about 20 minutes later at Incisa in search of the Dolce & Gabbana outlet I had read about in a town called Rignano. After circling around for awhile, I finally gave up and pulled into the Troussardi outlet. I am not all that familiar with this designer but the handbags and leather clothing were exquisite works of art. I found a greyish white leather dress with beads that might be the most beautiful article of clothing I have ever held in my hands. I caused a little scene when I pulled out my camera to take a few shots, which is apparently forbidden at all of the designer shops, so I cut my visit short and got directions to D&G which was just 1 kilometer down the road.

Located in a nondescript office building, the Dolce & Gabbana outlet is spacious, light and contemporary with the shoes and clothing perfectly presented. I strolled through the aisles admiring the women’s collection and tried on a few trench coats. Then I found a gorgeous dress that looked like it had been hand-painted by Jackson Pollock. I am still thinking about it a day later and wishing it was hanging in my closet right now. There were no black shoes with less than a four-inch heel, however, so I focused more on sneaking a few photographs than actually shopping. The prices were better than I thought they would be. I plan to return someday when I am feeling a lot more flush.

Just a five-minute from D&G, The Mall, located in Leccio, is a discount designer shopper's paradise. The list of designers represented here is awe-inspiring: Agnona, Bottega Veneta, Emmanuel Ungaro, Ermenegildo Zegna, Fendi, Giorgio Armani, Gucci, Hogan, La Perla, Loro Piana, Salvatore Ferragamo, Sergio Rossi, Tod's, Valentino and Yves Saint Laurent. The Mall is the real deal, like the outlets in the States were before the designers started manufacturing cheap clothes specifically for the outlets. My first stop was Burberry. I often fantasize, especially on rainy days like this, about owning a black Burberry trench coat and it seems that whenever I visit this store they have loads of trench coats but none in black, which was the case today. They have a very nice selection of coats, scarves, sweaters, shirts and belts and not just in the smallest and largest sizes.

I saw a sale sign in the window of Pucci and slipped in to try on a dress hanging in the window that was half off the already discounted price. One thing I have noticed about The Mall is that the salespeople are always chatting among themselves and they seem rather disenchanted with the whole sales process. I actually felt more comfortable asking the security guard what he thought of the dress than the young lady who put me in a fitting room.

I had experienced a vision while driving down the A1 that the perfect pair of black flat shoes were waiting for me at the Tod’s/Hogan shop and my heart started to race as I approached the doors. I scanned a wall of shoes finding one or two possibilities but none in my size, and then, there they were, calling to me. Black patent leather flats, a cross between a loafer and a ballet slipper, but with more style and that signature nubby Tod’s sole. The shoes fit perfectly. I was, needless to say, ecstatic.

Before heading to lunch at the café, I cruised through the Gucci shop which is always worth a cruise through, and tried on a black leather biker jacket that was heavily discounted. Had I not found the shoes at Tod’s, I might have splurged on the jacket but I felt happy and satisfied as I enjoyed a crunchy salad in the café at The Mall, a great spot to people watch and catch runway shows on the flat screen TVs above the bar.

Having achieved my goal for the day, I could have headed home, but I really wanted to hit all of the designer outlets just to see if I could do it all in one day. So I jumped back on the A1 heading towards Roma, got off in Montevarchi about twenty minutes later, and after several wrong turns I found myself at SPACE, a massive, ominous grey building with no windows and rows of triangular turrets on the top. Inside this intimidating structure is the Designer Outlet to End All Designer Outlets- Prada, Miu Miu and Jil Sander. Oh, to have loads of cash in this place! I stayed there for almost an hour and spent about $100,000 in my mind. Thankfully none of the black flat shoes I liked were in my size or I might have come home with a second pair that I didn’t really need but couldn’t pass up because they were Prada, for god’s sake, and they were on sale. At least I managed to sneak a few photos.

Just for kicks I stopped at the Pratesi outlet on my way home, a great source of unique, inexpensive, well-made shoes and handbags. (There is also a tiny Pratesi outlet in Monteriggioni, my favorite little walled city just 20 minutes from Castello di Casole). Apparently the drive from Montevarchi to Poggibonsi is one of the most beautiful stretches of road in this part of Tuscany but it was raining and getting dark so I took the fastest route towards Siena. I really just wanted to get home to admire my new Tod’s shoes.

Wining and Dining by the Sea

2009-02-26T01:46:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday, February 24th, my associate Marina Palmerio and I joined C. Dodici Vintners Club Program Director Silvia Anchini and Cellar Master Gherardo Fedrigo on a scouting trip to a private Antinori winery near Bolgheri. The winery is on the Alta Maremma coast, which is about 50 kilometers of stunning coastline framing the islands of the Tuscan archipelago of Elba, Gorgona and Capraia with Corsica looming in the distance.

From Florence, it took us about 90 mintues to drive to Tenuta Guado al Tasso which is due west of Castello di Casole, and we could feel the sea getting closer and the weather getting warmer with every kilometer.

Guado al Tasso started producing Super Tuscan wines in 1990, but the estate is steeped in a rich history. The Etruscans made this area habitable and planted vineyards there as early as 700 BC. After the fall of the Roman empire, for centuries the area was a malaria-ridden marshland and the people were very poor, subsisting only on the food they grew and animals they hunted. The della Gherardesca family started investing heavily in agriculture and making wine on the land in the 17th century. Then in the early 1930s, Carlotta della Gherardesco married Niccolò Antinori and her sister Clarice married Mario Incisa della Rochetta. (Clarice is the grandmother of C. Dodici winemaker, Piero Incisa della Rochetta). Niccolò and Mario’s shared passion for winemaking resulted in a major transformation of this coastline. Mario began experimenting with Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet resulting in the creation in 1964 of “Sassicaia,” named after the stones which had to be removed from the land in order to cultivate it. Niccolò planted 70,000 vines on his land which is now called Guado al Tasso and produced “Rosé Antinori.”

Guado al Tasso is not open to the public, however the members of C. Dodici, Castello di Casole’s Vintner’s Club, will be able to experience private lunches and wine tastings in the villa and on the beautiful grounds. It is a sustainable working farm which produces wheat, sunflowers and olives, plus food for the animals which include Allegra Antinori’s race horses and the hybrid pig/wild boar called Cinta Senese.

After out tour we were treated to a tasting accompanied by a selection of cured meats from the Cinta Senese. We tasted the 2008 Vermentino- a crisp, light and fruity white wine, and the Il Bruciato 2007 Super Tuscan, a delightful blend of Cabernet, Merlot and Syrah. Bruciato, incidentally, means “burnt” and the wine is named after the Il Bruciato forest on the estate that was burned in the mid-19th-century by the people of Bolgheri because the owner of the land tried to prevent them from hunting and foraging for food there. The Rosé still produced at Guado al Tasso, called Scalabrone, is named after a legendary bandit who was considered to be the “Robin Hood” of the Maremma area.

After the tour we headed to the quaint seaside village of San Vincenzo for lunch at Zanibar which has the cozy, comfy feel of a little beach house. There is some major construction going on in the harbor but it didn’t detract much from our experience. We enjoyed an aperitif on the terrace looking out at the sea and chatted with an old salty dog named Mario. For lunch Marina and I had a grilled white fish similar to sea bass that was so fresh and cooked to perfection. The adventuresome Silva ordered raw shrimp and a plate of steamed Bianchetti e rossetti, hundreds of tiny white fish about an inch long that she doused in lemon juice and olive oil. Gherardo had grilled squid that at first glance looked like a grilled translucent garden hose but it was surprisingly sweet and tender.

On the way to another winery Silvia wanted to check out, we drove up the Via Aurelio past the Enoteca Maestrini which Silvia said is a great place to buy wine. She then turned right onto Viale dei Cipressi, one of the most beautiful roads I have ever driven down. Lined with about 2500 huge Cypress trees, the road which is protected by the Belle Arti (the Italian Historical Society), ends in the charming little village of Bolgheri. You enter the town through a narrow arch under a castle that dates back to the 8th century and belonged to the della Gherardesca family. Silvia pointed out several great restaurants with inviting al fresco dining areas that I will write about this spring when I return for a longer visit.

As we reluctantly headed back home, I kept looking back over my shoulder at the glistening sea until it finally dwindled out of sight. I know that this is a place I will return to many times in my life.

Welcoming Brunellos in Montalcino

2009-02-25T07:19:00.000-08:00

On Monday, Feb. 23, I took a road trip to Montalcino to experience an exciting and exclusive occasion in the heart of Brunello wine country. (Brunello was first created by the Biondi Santi family in the late 19th century and named “the brunette” for it’s dark red color.) Thanks to C. Dodici Vintner’s Club Program Director Silvia Anchini who was able to secure a ticket for me, I had the good fortune of attending "Benvenuto Brunello 2009." During this four-day event held in the Fortezza in Montalcino, Brunello producers from all over southern Tuscany presented their 2004 vintages to wine merchants, distributors and other professionals in the wine industry. Over170 wineries were represented this year, so it’s a good thing my guide was Castello di Casole’s Cellar Master, Gherardo Fedrigo.

There were about 40 long tables set up inside a big tent with 20 or so wineries per row and the place was packed full of people sniffing, swirling and tasting. Gherardo chose six wineries for us to focus on and each of the wines we tasted were delicious. Pian delle Vigne, produced by Antinori, was my favorite because it was slightly sweeter and smoother on my novice American palate than Brunellos, made of 100% Sangiovese, typically are. Of the others we sampled―Col d’Orcia, Lisini, Argiano and Barbi―Gherardo informed me that his grandmother prefers Lisini over almost all Brunellos because it is still produced the “old-fashioned way.”

After an hour of tastings we were ready for lunch. Rather than compete with the crowds in Montalcino, we headed to a tiny village 8 km. from Montalcino called Sant’ Angelo in Colle. With only seven tables in the quaint interior and al fresco dining in warm weather, Trattoria Il Lecchio is one of those little gems you hope to come across when you venture off the beaten path. I ordered a salad with thinly sliced raw artichokes and Parmesean followed by a steaming bowl of chick pea soup, while Gherardo had pork sausage with white beans and a glass of Montalcino di Rosso from the Sesta di Sopra winery just down the road. It was the perfect meal for a wintry day.

Our next stop was the Abbazia di Sant’ Antimo, reputedly one of the most beautiful Romanesque churches in all of Italy which dates from the 12th century. Though the frescoes on the walls are all but gone, the alabaster stonework is well-preserved and there is the hauntingly beautiful sound of monks chanting in the background. Apparently the Benedictine monks who live nearby do actually chant in the church at scheduled times of day and it would be ideal to plan a visit during one of these 12-minute sessions.

Our final destination was the Argiano winery, one of the super premier producers of Brunello di Montalcino. Our guide, Eliza, was kind enough to give us brief tour of the exquisite estate which included a visit to the seeping, mold-covered cellar where wine barrels have been stored since the 15th-century. The estate and its magnificent villa dating back to 1570 are owned by the Countess Noemi Marone Cinzano, significant other to Castello di Casole winemaker Hans Vinding-Diers. (Noemi and Hans have partnered on a winery in Patagonia called Bodega Noemi.) I purchased a Rosso di Montalcino and two bottles of “A Lisa” from Bodega Noemi which Gherardo himself had a hand in making.