Another cool day: I am so disappointed in Italian weather. Here I was anticipating 80 degrees and sunburns and instead I got cool and mildly chilly with occasional lake-borne breezes. Uncool. Horrid. We even had to eat breakfast inside. I am becoming very fond of cornflakes and yogurt, though. Still can't square myself with the crazy-ass sweetness of Nutella.
The first lecture of the morning was from Wendy Harcourt, the editor of Development, a well respected journal. She discussed methods of incorporating women into development efforts - as they are often ignored or steamrolled by men when traditional methods are used. Really interesting stuff.
Lunch was penne with an herbed cheese sauce - nicely al dente.
And chicken with curried peas. Quite tasty. Made me miss Indian food, mostly. Italy is apparantly vastly unfriendly to other cuisines then their own - indeed, an Italian town recently outlawed all foreign cuisines entirely (much to the consternation of local teens, who had begun to rely on cheap doner kebabs). It's evident in the towns: ethnic food really is much rarer here then it is in other countries I've been in. Even small towns in China and India will often have Chinese food, fried chicken, or pizza - but not Italy. Italy has a profound sense of culinary superiority, is willing to stand alone - a position I respect and a position that has allowed Italy to truly retain its native cuisine. But as a California native and the kind of human who would eat a different cuisine from a different part of the world every single night if possible - well, I can't say I'd be able to live with it for too long.
After lunch, we listened to a lecture from a rep of HungerFree Women, an organization aimed at fighting hunger in women in particular, and improving women's access to real estate and natural resources. Although they work all over the world, they have done some very interesting work with Dalit or untouchable women in India. I'd recommend checking them out.
It was finally time to visit the gelato factory, located in the nearby village of Torre Alfina - roughly 30 minutes from Bolsena. The drive was almost embarassingly scenic, featuring waving wheat, fat n' happy sheeps, tomato plants and all that other typical provincial Italian junk. I liked it.
The guys who run Gelateria Sarchioni were real mensches and rabidly passionate about gelato. (They also had an impressive collection of Italian style titty pictures on their factory walls - apparantly this is a good way to motivate their workers). They explained the process of gelato making in considerable detail - I had no idea so much ridiculously complicated chemistry went into making ice cream. (Italy seems to run on gelato: people eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, so on and on and on, there are five billion different flavors, you cannot escape it, but would you want to, etc etc).
The big old mixing bowls where the liquid gelato resides prior to the freezing process. The gelato makers are working at mascarpone and ricotta flavors - apparantly slightly more savory ice creams are all the rage nowadays. He said parmesan cheese flavored ice cream is produced but tastes like butt. I believe him.
Here our host is extruding some gelato. I really like saying "extruding". One of those Dirty But Not Words, like kumquat. Am I digressing?
The finished product, spooned into serving tubs.
This tasted like main-lining really luxe chocolate frosting to me. I'm generally not big on chocolate ice cream but this rocked my world.
my life is terrible
After our afternoon treat, we headed to Jeff's villa nearby the factory. Jeff, a colleague of Nathan and Sabrina, was kind enough to provide us with some excellent red and white wine, some cherries picked from his trees, and a tour of the scenic grounds of his villa -dude has basically got the setup of the Gods. He claims buying property in Italy isn't that expensive and maintenance isn't that hard work, although that begs the question of why everyone isn't doing it yet. Well? In any case, we admired his garden, full of lettuces, green onions, tomatoes, and a profusion of incredible smelling herbs. (Hey, sports fans - did you know the Italian word for sage is salvia? Hmm hmm hmm?)
I was especially taken with Jeff's Nocino, a sort of walnut liqueur. Traditionally made on the 23rd of June with exactly 23 walnuts, it is extremely easy to make: walnuts are soaked with cinnamon and orange peel in some strong-ass liquor. The final result tastes like Christmas: I'd like to import some for our family celebrations. Soak ladyfingers or some other cakey items in this stuff and you will be among the world's more awesome people. (Tiramisu, tiramisu...)
A bowl of cherries from Jeff's own tree.
After our mild evening pickling, we headed to Quintaluna, a restaurant specializing in local Umbrian food with a nod to Etruscan techniques and ingredients. The chef is apparantly very interested in monkeying around with old school ways of food preparation, and I found the results very satisfying.
The first course was a riff on traditional Etruscan foods. First was a piece of bread covered in lardo, the famous speciality of super-rich and fatty pork belly. This was pork fat perfection on a crostini. We also sampled a rustic and pleasing nibble of phyllo dough with a rich beef bolognese, topped with a balsamic vinegar reduction. To accompany the meats was a refreshing salad of barley, tomato, and local olives - unusual and exceedingly good. Bacon: it's the gate-way drug.
The main course was another porky delight. The cinghiale or wild boar was reminiscent of Mexican carnitas, cooked for a long time with a delightfully gamey and fatty flavor - with just a hint of rosemary and lots of excellent olive oil. There was also roasted pork loin, with a slightly sweet and delicately meaty flavor.
The meat was accompanied by a side of roasted vegetables, including eggplant, carrot, zucchini, and potato, with olive oil and salt. This was simple and delicious - and easy to make at home! (We'll post the recipe later, perhaps?) I pretty much live on this stuff during the week during school.
Finally, dessert was a rustic apricot tart - crunchy, buttery, and extremely pleasing.
The proud owner.
And our talented chefs.
We lingered over dinner for a while before making the drive back - and were treated to a view of the lights of Bolsena as we rounded the hill.
It is election time in Italy, and the town was out in force to listen to speeches and demonstrations from both the right and the left. The right featured a bunch of old dudes in suits making shouty Italian speeches - lots of fist pumping, rabble rousing, RAH RAH RAH. Balloons were released, you know the score. There are mutterings that the Right is resurgent in Italy and it will soon be a dictatorship and Mussolini's dark nasty specter will rise again, but who knows. I could not even begin to understand Italian politics: I would have to be equipped with like three different superior brains and an innate sense of malfeasance to begin to describe it to you. So I will not.
They played Looney Tunes DUH DUH DUH DUHHH DUH DUHH music at the end of the speech which I found vastly amusing. The left, meanwhile, had a long haired plump dude playing a rock concert. Not exactly Beyonce gettin' down for Obama, I guess, but more fun then the alternative. The evening people watching was great, though - everyone drinking coffee, slurping on gelato, drinking beer and stronger items and watching the magic of the political process. Did my heart good
Oh, here you are! Trip looks awesome. Mangia!
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