ALSO BY FRANCES MAYES
Women in Sunlight
Under Magnolia
Bella Tuscany
Every Day in Tuscany
Under the Tuscan Sun
Swan
In Tuscany (with Edward Mayes)
A Year in the World
Bringing Tuscany Home (with Edward Mayes)
The Tuscan Sun Cookbook (with Edward Mayes)
The Discovery of Poetry
Sunday in Another Country
After Such Pleasures
Hours
The Arts of Fire
Ex Voto
Copyright © 2019 by Frances Mayes
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crown, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
crownpublishing.com
CROWN and the Crown colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available upon request.
ISBN 9780451497697
Ebook ISBN 9780451497710
Map and this illustration by Meredith Hamilton
Cover design by Elena Giavaldi and Alane Gianetti
Cover photograph: Paolo Tralli/Shutterstock
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FOR EDWARD
Contents
Cover
Also by Frances Mayes
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Preface
Note from the Author
Piemonte
Torino
Orta San Giulio
Le Langhe: La Morra, Barolo, Castiglione Falletto, Serrlunga d'Alba, and Novello
Le Langhe: Alba, Cherasco, Santo Stefano Belbo, and Neive
Trentino–Alto Adige
Trento
Rovereto
Merano
Monte San Vigilio/Lana
Vipiteno
Campo Tures
Veneto
La Laguna Di Venezia
Asolo
Valdobbiadene
Arquà Petrarca and Colli Euganei (the Euganean Hills)
Montagnana
Este
Monselice
Mira and Dolo
Friuli Venezia Giulia
Cormòns, Cividale del Friuli, and Palmanova
Aquileia
Emilia-Romagna
Parma
Liguria
Camogli
Varese Ligure
Genova
Toscana
Scarperia
Buriano, Castiglione della Pescaia, Vetulonia, Montepescali, Campiglia Marittima, Populonia, and San Vincenzo
Massa Marittima
Sansepolcro
Umbria
Montefalco
Bevagna
Le Marche
Sant’Angelo in Vado
Mercatello sul Metauro
Sirolo
Recanati and Fermo
Lazio
Sabaudia
Sperlonga
Gaeta
Puglia
Trani
Ruvo di Puglia
Ostuni
Lecce, Corigliano d’Otranto, Specchia, and Otranto
Lucera, Troia, and Pietramontecorvino
Orsara
Monopoli, Bitonto, Lecce, Altamura, Matera, and Alberobello
Sardegna
Pula and Teulada
Santadi
Isola di San Pietro and Carloforte
Iglesias and Piscinas
Cagliari
Sicilia
Marzamemi
Scicli
Vittoria
Caltagirone
Chiaramonte Gulfi
Catania
Epilogue: Cortona
Acknowledgments
Recipe Index
About the Author
PREFACE
Italy, the endless surprise. The places I’ve chosen for this book are for example, because if you travel adventurously, you will find many others that draw you close and let you see why you ventured so far, and what you will take with you when you leave. Will it be a swim in the October-cold sea at Carloforte on Isola di San Pietro in Sardegna, a dip that jolted you out of summer doldrums and propelled you with great energy into the fall? Or a plate of arugula dressed with lemon juice and fresh olive oil in Sorrento, when the taste wedded to the heady scents of citrus blossoms from trees layered in ascending terraces all around you? That became the way you wanted to eat for the rest of your life. The regal cardinal striding into the Vatican. So pompous, you’re thinking, but then you catch a glimpse of his robe caught in his rear end, proving that the divine is human. The mad woman performing Aïda arias in the fountain of Rome’s Campo de’ Fiori; lanterns’ shadows flickering on stone when you looked out over the deserted Piazza Navona at three in the morning, hearing only the splash of the outlandish fountains below. And then a man starts playing Vivaldi on his flute. Your Rome, all in a day. The private moments, the little bursts of secret meaning that travel can give, the ancient light through the Greek columns at Selinunte, grazing the face of your child, casting her into the long historical span of time. Places give us such gifts, if we are ready to receive them.
* * *
I DIVIDE MY time between Italy and the United States. My home in Tuscany, Bramasole, became second nature to me and now is the place I’ve lived the longest of anywhere in my life. Do I know Italy well? No. Not because I haven’t traveled, cooked, observed, gazed at a million paintings, and read the convoluted history. To know Italy takes ten lifetimes. Each time I return, I feel the same excitement I knew in the first years of living here. So much to learn, and what luck, I’ll have five weeks or six days or three months—surely I will begin to feel I’ve a grasp on the place. But Italy remains elusive. Just beyond that hilltop castle, there’s a valley of olive trees, then another town where the stony streets are pale gold instead of gray. The pasta is different there—made with half bread crumbs—the dialect is unintelligible, the local duomo’s frescoes are painted in apricots and chalky blues with sublime faces you later see in the local bar while you sip your Negroni. You were in Bevagna; now you’re a few kilometers away in Montefalco, a new world. Infinite differences—all packed into a country about the size of Arizona.
* * *
HUNGERING FOR MORE—MORE understanding, more exposure, more pasta—my husband, Ed, and I suddenly pack our little white Alfa Romeo and hit the road. Sometimes we are joined by William, our grandson; sometimes we are joined by friends, for an hour or for a week. Our wanderlust awakened: For a year and a half, we seek unique places hidden in plain sight, and also cities such as Genova and Parma—the names known, but who has lingered there? Italy. Infinite.
* * *
BECAUSE PASTA IS the national anthem, I’m searching for quintessential tastes of each place, though instead of pasta I might fall for sbrisolona, the crumbly, nutty dessert that turn
s divine when dipped in zabaglione. That swim in Carloforte? Followed by robust paccheri, a large hollow pasta with a talent for soaking up tomato and eggplant sauce. A fritto misto followed, fish just pulled from the water, crisply fried and succulent. That lusty dinner became Carloforte! And impossible to forget the pitcher of fruity red wine and the salad of wild greens picked that morning from the earth. The score of our adventure is the music of many corks popping.
Travel is a journey into one’s own ignorance. Nothing proves this more quickly than dipping into Italian wine varieties. In every region, there are grapes—nisiola, teroldego, nerello mascalese—I’ve never known existed, as well as particular winemaking methods, such as the revival of aging in clay amphoras lined with beeswax. The Greeks and Romans, who seem to have known everything, also buried their giare. In effect, they’re planting the wine into the earth.
* * *
SUCH PASSION EVERYWHERE for food. Even a two-year-old has an adventurous palate! More snails! He bangs with his spoon. More! We share the zeal. On arrival in every town, Ed begins plotting. How many lunches? How many dinners can we enjoy in this exceptional place? And markets! Each town retains the tradition of weekly go-to-market day. What’s freshest, what’s ready to plant, who has the truffles, who has the best porchetta, are the little violet artichokes in yet? I try to plan to be in a town on market day. There, you pick up a recipe for topinambur, Jerusalem artichokes, or you’re offered a taste of the annurca apple (annurche, plural), an ancient variety that is picked green and ripened to winey sweetness on straw beds. (The grower will brag that Italy has a thousand five hundred varieties of apple, while the French have only fifteen. A suspect figure, but I admire his passion, molto italiano.) Vendors sometimes still hawk their wares, their high croaking voices hearkening back to the Middle Ages, when in these same streets men sold their honey and chickpeas.
* * *
THE MOST VIVID pleasures of Italy are the simple ones. You’re installed at a table on a sun-drenched piazza. You have your notebook and the whole day. There’s nothing you must do except let that sundial cast its shadow on the next hour, let the apricot façade of a renaissance palazzo reflect on the faces of those around you, let the memories of what brought you here rise and facet in your mind, let the waiter bring that second cappuccino before you set forth into the day.
* * *
FRESH MEMORIES: GREEK-WHITE villages of Puglia clinging to cliffs above the sea, the siren call of the Lazio coast, knotty medieval streets of Genova, vast underground Roman cisterns in Fermo, green hikes and hot chocolate in the Dolomiti, the trail of Frederick II’s Puglian Romanesque churches, afternoons on the golden Tuscan beaches, the atmospheric Torino coffee bars where Cesare Pavese would write…Endless, yes.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
See You in the Piazza is arranged geographically, north to south, instead of in the chronological trajectory of my travels. Since there’s no thread of continuity, you may choose to read the sections randomly, though I suggest reading about whole regions together, as travels within them are usually contiguous.
Finding unexpected places to travel in Italy couldn’t be easier. Just veer off any road. Several websites often lead me in surprising directions: The Touring Club Italiano produces good guides, extensive travel services, trips, and maps to all of Italy—and has for over 120 years. Their Bandiere Arancioni (orange banner) site, http://www.bandierearancioni.it, identifies more than two hundred small towns of particular beauty and cultural significance. I visited many for this book: In Piemonte: Neive, Cherasco, La Morra, Barolo, Orta San Giulio. In Trentino–Alto Adige: Campo Tures, Vipiteno. In Veneto: Asolo, Montagnana, Arquà Petrarca. In Friuli Venezia Giulia: Cividale del Friuli. In Liguria: Varese Ligure. In Toscana: Massa Marittima. In Umbria: Montefalco, Bevagna. In Le Marche: Mercatello sul Metauro. In Puglia: Troia, Orsara, Alberobello.
I Borghi più belli d’Italia, http://borghipiubelliditalia.it/borghi/, lists the most beautiful small towns of Italy. Not an exhaustive list but still useful.
Also helpful: various sites list Blue Flag beaches, those determined by the Foundation for Environmental Education to have the cleanest water and environmentally sound coasts.
I’m enthusiastic about the government-sponsored program of agriturismi, farm stays. These vary from boutique hotel standard to the simplest room. The advantage of either is that you meet local people who are usually hospitable and helpful. You may make a friend, or at least get to pet a goat. Often the agriturismo family will offer cheese-making or cooking classes. Check out the farms at https://www.agriturismo.it/en/.
If you like staying in historic inns, and sometimes castles, Dimore d’Epoca, http://www.dimoredepoca.it/en/, provides many romantic and characteristic listings.
For wine and restaurants, I rely on finding a local enoteca to learn about the area’s vineyards. There are numerous useful apps and, prior to travel, I recommend downloading several. We especially like Gambero Rosso’s yearly wine and restaurant guides. Even though they’re in Italian, the guides are symbol-oriented and easy to understand. While you’re in an enoteca, a bar, bookstore, or produce stand, it’s a good moment to ask, “Where do you eat for a special occasion?” You’re likely to be told of a good local place with atmosphere.
* * *
I’M THRILLED TO include recipes from some of our favorite restaurants. Chefs have been enthusiastic, generous, and happy to share their talents. In translating their sometimes elusive notes, I’ve tried to keep the chef’s tone—and to preserve the Italian way of presenting a recipe, which often leaves room for your own creativity. I’ve left the notation QB, quanto basta, meaning “how much is enough,” or “to taste.” Seasonings are almost always QB in an Italian recipe. No “¼ teaspoon of salt” or “6 leaves of basil”! Usually, too, the chef has left quantities of broth or wine open to common sense; I have sometimes inserted quantities when the amount didn’t seem obvious, as when “a glass of white wine” is called for. What size glass might that be? When ingredients may be hard to obtain, such as a particular cheese, or wild game such as hare, I’ve suggested substitutes, although almost everything is available via Internet sources. Some recipes are challenging! I think they represent the new directions I’m finding in restaurants all over Italy, where chefs are suddenly improvising, taking traditions and running with them. Not to worry—there will always be tagliatelle al ragù. While testing, I learned new techniques and usages that I now carry over into other recipes. I hope you have fun trying these recipes that chefs have chosen as representative of their kitchens.
When looking for apartments and villas: Buyer beware. I’ve rented probably a hundred and still can make a mistake, although most have been pleasant and well located. Ask yourself what they’re not showing in the photographs, then ask to see that omitted bathroom or kitchen. Tiny box showers, furniture covered with throws, bad art, dark rooms—all send up warning flags. While bad reviews can’t always be trusted—some people are cranks—lots of iffy reviews certainly cause me to return to search. Look up the address on Google Earth to ascertain that the location is not beside a major road or in an inconvenient neighborhood.
Trains are a fantastic option. Italy has many fast trains, some with business class ambiance and friendly service of drinks, sandwiches, and snacks. The train trip often seems too short! Consult http://www.trenitalia.com and look for the Freccia (arrow) line: Frecciargento, Frecciarossa, and Frecciabianca. Italo, a private high-speed line, is another fabulous option: https://www.italotreno.it/en. The normal intercity trains are great, too.
Luggage is a burden. Best advice: Travel light.
The waiter slides toward me a clear little glass layered with cream, chocolate, and coffee. Sip the layers and you taste Torino. The bicerin—dialect for small glass—has come to be synonymous with the many atmospheric cafés that are the city’s life blood. Torino is flush with regal boulevards and piazzas ringed with these delicious h
aunts. I’m at the wood-paneled Caffè Al Bicerin, intimate, with candles on tiny marble tables. In this very place, someone in 1763 first concocted the bicerin, a wickedly sumptuous drink. I like a place that remembers a coffee drink invented 256 years ago.
I’ve slipped into other historic cafés to sample their bicerin or lemonade or cappuccino. Bliss. There’s Caffè Torino under the grand arcades, where the great Cesare Pavese, who lived nearby, used to meet other writers; Caffè Mulassano, with a marble bar and bentwood chairs, said to have the best espresso in town; Baratti e Milano, more chocolate- and confection-oriented than the others but with an old-world air; and Caffè San Carlo, all gilt and columns and statues.
In late afternoon, the cafés serve aperitivi. No surprise: Campari and vermouths such as Punt e Mes were all invented in Torino. Order a drink and you’re welcome to a lavish buffet of stuzzichini—crostini, olives, chips, focaccia, prosciutto, slices of omelet, and grissini, bread sticks (also invented in Torino). This interlude previews dinner. Which is glorious to anticipate. Torino restaurants are up there with the best in Italy.
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