Boots in the Oven

Another Day, Another Region: The Valle d'Aosta

On a non-anachronistic note - if all has gone well, we are in London.  Today we have lunch reservations at St. John's Restaurant in Smithfield Market, where we will toast the king of offal himself... though likely with water, because if you haven't heard, London is seriously expensive these days.

But... back to Italy, for the time being!

We left Torino early to catch the two-hour regional train to Aosta.  Our hotel (Hotel Turin) had a great view of the old Roman city walls.  And a huge breakfast buffet. 

Of course, since it was lunchtime, we took the brief walk into town to search out somewhere to eat.  Husbear happened upon  a totally cute little Valle d'Aostan place, Le Pelerin Gourmand, and we settled ourselves in to see just what was up with the food of this little region, tucked into a corner of Italy just up against France.

Since we're predictable, we ordered the antipasto misto della casa.  What came was anything but predictable.

This has to be the first time I've been served a selection of terrines and pates in an Italian restaurant.  Again, proof positive that there is no such thing as "Italian Cuisine".

Since it's sort of difficult to tell what's going on here, I'll start at the salmon (raw) and work clockwise.  We've got a pressed carpaccio of shrimp, a terrine of scallops, a country-style pork pate, a soft and crazydelicious cow cheese, and a terrine described as being "like foie gras".  And a pepper stuffed with tuna. 

Now, what the heck kind of Italian food is that?  Delicious, that's what kind.

We were trying to keep things sort of lightish, so we ordered three pastas to split between the three of us. 

The long dumplings are strozzapreti (priest stranglers!) in a slightly sour sausage sauce (yum), a not-so-awesome dish of tagliolini with crab sauce which tasted more fishy than anything else, and gnocchi in fonduta.  These gnocchi weren't like other gnocchi we've had - more starchy and bouncy against the teeth, if that makes sense.  They were all made in house, and the strozzapreti and gnocchi at least were totally delicious.

We stuck with coffee for dessert.  Over coffee, we debated how a place charging prices this low for food this good and high-quality could stay in business.

When we got the bill, we understood - 3 euro bottles of water and 3 euro coffees!  Other than that, though, their prices are crazy low for the quality.  Highly recommended.

Time for a bit of sightseeing of the non-food-related variety!

We grabbed a bus to Courmayeur, from where we'd heard you can take a scenic cable-car ride up Mont Blanc (Monte Bianco, if you're Italian).  That's the highest mountain in Europe, don'cha know.

Unfortunately, we got there too late and missed the last round-trip cable car ride.  So we resigned ourselves to checking out the ski town.  There were lots of great little food shops, selling lardo and fontina cheese (though usually not together).  We saw an oddly-shaped wooden vessel in a store and Mama Bear asked what it was -  a grolla, the proprietress said, for drinking caffe' valdostano.

Oh really?  One of these had to be ordered at the first place we stopped.

Turns out, it's a hot coffee drink spiked with grappa and a local liqueur called genepy, floated with a slice of orange.  That's sugar you see around the top - the bartender poured flaming liquor onto it, I guess to get the sugar to melt to help keep the top on?

It was perfect, warming in every way.  But... when we went to pay...

20 euro!  I've never had a $27 coffee before.  Yay. (Further exploration showed that this was a bit crazy.  The average going rate was closer to 7 euro so don't be put off.)

We really should have checked the price on that.  Lesson learned for next weekend in Venice.

Courmayeur was otherwise a very nice little Alpine ski village, though it was most certainly out of our price range.  Great window-shopping.

We rode back to Aosta considerably wiser.

After cleaning up a bit at the hotel, we walked to Taverna da Nando for dinner.

When we saw not only fonduta, but also bagna cauda, on their menu - we had to jump.

Fonduta is Valdostano fondue, while bagna cauda is actually from the Piedmont - a warm butter, cream, and anchovy dip into which you dunk raw veggies.

With homemade, actual, honest-to-goodness polenta!  This is a harder commodity than you'd think to come by here in Italy.

We thought both of these were delicious, since we're both people who love strong flavors and dipping; Mama Bear was a fan of the fonduta, but not so much of the very anchovyish bagna cauda.

I think she liked our second course, more, camoscio e polenta.  Chamois is a local game, that looks a lot like a small antelope, with a sweet flavor.  The gravy was really good with the polenta, this time cooked a little softer.

You know, sometimes I hate looking at pictures of everything we ate on a particularly crazy day, because it tends to look more than a little excessive... I promise we don't always eat like this!

The dessert was bad.  We ordered a creme caramel, over the waiter's strenuous recommendation of the tiramisu.  Dumb move, us!

On the way home we saw a viper in grappa.  I don't know if they actually drink snake grappa in these parts - it certainly felt like an early taste of Vietnam!

Big day.  Good lord.  Bigger day in the morning, so on to bed!

Le Pelerin Gourmand, Aosta, Via de Tillier.  0165.231850

Taverna da Nando, Aosta, pass follier de tillier 41, 0165.44455. 

Continuation!  Hey, I'm trying to cram an awful lot of blogging into just a few hours...

Next morning, up and at'em to the bus station to catch a bus to Breuil-Cervinia.  (Don't ask me how to pronouce that.  I studied Italian, not French.)

Anyone able to parse this sign for me, snapped out the window on the way?  No littering, no flower picking, no fires, no...trees?

When we got to Breuil-Cervinia, we discovered that you can actually take cable cars to Switzerland.  Then, if you're skiing-inclined, you can ski down into Zermatt!  Not us, today, but it is possible.  We decided on just the cable cars. 

(Check out the Matterhorn!  That's it all foggy on the left.  Monte Cervino if for all you I-talions out there. -L.Pants)

It takes three to make it to the top.  As you go up, it unsurprisingly gets progressively colder.  And it started snowing!

Here's some proof that yes, Mama Bear did make it into Switzerland.  In case any of you are doubters.

It was seriously snowing by this point.  Mama Bear gave thanks that she had decided to buy a fleece at the bottom of the mountain, and I was equally thankful that she lent me her sweater.  Everyone else was in full-on ski gear, and there we were in short sleeves and/or linen pants...

The highest up you can go with the cable cars is 3840 meters, or about 12,500 feet.  That's a lot of units, any way you slice it.  (Now Auntie, don't get jealous, but that is actually higher than the station at the top of the Jungfraujoch!)

And just so we could say we hopped over the border into Switzerland for lunch, we ate at the cafeteria at the top.  Polenta and beef stew and soup - just right for an unexpectedly cold time.

Husbear got this great picture of the last cable car descending into the abyss.

Right about exactly then was when I got altitude sickness.  The wine and coffee at lunch, combined with a brief struggle to the top of a small snowy hill, made my vision go almost completely white.  I sat on the first leg of the cable car with my head between my knees, and when we made it to the first stop a nice family told me to go lay down on a bench with my feet up until I felt better.  Fun.

Since it was snowing heavily on top of the mountain, it follows that it was raining pretty steadily in Breuil-Cervinia by the time we got back.  We scooted into a bar for a significantly cheaper caffe' valdostano and waited for the bus back to Aosta.

Awesomely, in Aosta it wasn't raining!  We ate dinner crepes and went for a walk around town.

Gelato, of course, followed.

Then lots of sleeping!  Another long day of wonderfulness.

And Husbear, once again, packed a great picnic for us to take on the long train back to Florence the next day.  This time, we had a couple of really strange sausages (a blood sausage and a beet and rice sausage) as well as goat cheese and fruit.  We got some stares, but it was totally worth it.

Torino, the return

Day 2, early morning - did you know that Turin has the largest market in Europe?

We showed up on Saturday morning, not even entirely sure the thing would be open, only to be confronted with what must have been hundreds of carts set up along makeshift alleyways in the middle of an enormous lot.

The outside food area, just in front of the huge covered market, is full of fruits and vegetables and the occasional snail.

The front area is taken up by stalls selling a wide variety, while in the back you'll find the farmers selling just a few things, their crop from that morning.  We saw the smallest, tenderest celery ever, along with the brightest carrots.

Sadly, not all the produce is sold in time...

Then, there's an entire outdoor area dedicated to clothing.  Mostly cheap stuff, but there were good deals on socks and underwear and accessories.  We saw a lot of women there wearing the head scarf.

Then, of course, there are actually two covered market buildings.  The first is dedicated to fish, and has a setup I've never seen before - vendors stand in front of and behind their wares, which are displayed at a steep angle on tables.  They actually throw fish back and forth - and we saw several vendors folding money to throw it from the top level down to the bottom.

A very strange way to do business - but it certainly looked like they'd been doing it that way for a while. 

We haven't seen variety like this at a fish market since Catania.

Then, there's an entirely different covered building, much larger than the fish building, that's full of meats and bread and dry goods.  We were surprised at the amount of sausage surrounding us - smoked sausage, German style.  Turin definitely looks north more than south, culturally.

And they had Romanian wine displayed on chains.  Interesting idea...

We spent several happy hours at the market, but eventually it was time for us to leave.  Poodle.

Torino reminded us of its stateliness.  The streets seemed even emptier, coming from the bustle of the market.

We found a really great place for lunch, under the arcades, that had a display of prepared plates.  The food was delicious and fresh - we gorged on vegetables.  Of course, most of them were au gratin or baked into quiches, but there were some just steamed... and stuffed with meat. 

We even bought some of Torino's famous candies, the little lozenges known as pastiglie.  These are raspberry flavored from Leone, and they are even now all over the bottom of Husbear's camera bag.  Oops.

Satisfied, and on to the film museum!  It's housed in a building originally built as a synagogue, until Torino's Jewish community decided costs were getting to high and sold the building to the city.

Torino was the center of Italian filmmaking for a long time, and I was sort of thinking we'd be seeing a lot of memorabilia for Italian films that I knew nothing about, or a dusty warehouse full of posters.

Turns out, I was much mistaken.  Instead of a bunch of cheesy souvenirs loosely tied together through their connection to film, what we found was a meticulously researched, very slick new-style museum full of information about the development of pictures that moved.

As well as awesome souvenirs.  I may regret not buying this.  (For those of you who are scratching your heads, "parlando" in Italian means "talking.")  Capisci?

The museum started with the parlor games dabbled in during the 17th - 19th centuries, including this fun flip-your-image trick.  Hi, upside-down me!

Then, there were eight or ten of those binoculars that let you see in 3-D - the ones that come with cards with pictures on each side?  We looked at a wedding in 1900, a glacier in 1880, and then...

PORN!

In a separate red room with a curtain saying children shouldn't go.  I was mostly surprised that the women in the pictures looked like real people.  Mama Bear was scandalized, I tell you.

Old-school parlor tricks are still fun, I have to say.

There was an area of he museum dedicated to memorabilia, as it turned out, with a script for Psycho, masks from Star Wars, and Charlie Chaplin's bowler hat.

As well as a little homage to Marylin Monroe.

The entire center of the museum is taken up by a huge viewing area, where lounge chairs point at two screens showing a loop of old films.  A cable elevator rises through the center of the room, and around the outside are arrayed what the museum calls "chapels" - small spaces dedicated to different genres of film.  An interesting idea, well executed.

The museum even has an extremely slick bar, with color-shifting tables!

After reupping on the caffeine, we took the elevator up to the roof to catch the view of Torino.  It's a really large city.

By now, of course, it was time for gelato.  We had passed a place with violet gelato and so went back to try it.

It sort of tasted like perfume.

We couldn't let the perfumed one be our only violet gelato experience, so we actually stopped by another place to try theirs out.  Much better, more like candied violets than perfume. 

After going back to the hotel to change and splash some water on our faces, we left for aperitivi.  The further north in Italy you go, the better these spreads of bar snacks tend to be.  Basically, you pay for a drink and you get unlimited access to their spread - so check the spread first!

Husbear got to have his first martini in quite a while.  Happy guy.

This place had what they called international aperitivi, which meant that, for the first time since leaving Austin in August, I actually saw a plate of sushi.  Though "sushi" might be more accurate. Whatever - it was raw salmon and rice wrapped in seaweed, and even if the rice was more risotto than sushi-style, I was still thrilled beyond belief.

Unfortunately, that's it for Torino... and even more unfortunately, for the whole of the Piemonte.  That's definitely a region we'll have to make a special visit to see.

Next time - on to Aosta!

On a more specifically timely note, we returned our phones today.  We are phoneless!  Our landlord arrives in two hours to go over the apartment list of contents from way back in August.  And the number of arguing American couples I heard on the street today walking to the train station was staggering.  (I won't poke too much fun, as that may very well be us in two weeks.)

Love from Firenze, on our last day here!

Torino, Day One. We saw a little of the Piedmont!

So, oh my god, we leave Sunday.  Today's Friday.  I've once again put myself in the position of having seventyquadrillion blog posts left to do before leaving the country. 

Oops.

My plan is to get all of these written and them have them post automatically, so there isn't a glut of like 8 posts in one day (as if I'll get 8 posts finished in one day), so don't get confused if Sunday comes and goes and there are still Italy posts arriving, 'k?

Mama Bear hadn't even been in town twentyfour hours before we were packing her onto a train for northern Italy.  Time was short!

She wanted to see her some Alps, but on the way we convinced her to make a stop in Torino (Turin).  Though we had some wonderful advice about lovely places to go in the Piemonte, (thanks, Rick!) we didn't have a car or much time this trip, so in the Piemonte we just stuck to Turin.

At least we had a ridiculous picnic?

Tomatoes and homemade hummus and babaganoush and sausage (from Matera!) and 'nduja (from Cosenza!) and caperberries and tap wine and oranges and pears and gorgonzola and parmigiano and three different types of bread and I think that must have been it.  Mama Bear was quite impressed with our collapsing wine glasses.  Yummy picnic - thumbs up, Husbear.

After like seven hours of travel, we arrived in Torino late afternoon and checked into our hotel, the Hotel San Carlo.  Turned out to be in a perfect location, and they even gave us two rooms for the price of one since they didn't have a triple available.

Though the guidebook's characterization of the place as "scrupulously clean" may have been a bit outdated...

First stop upon leaving was to get poor confused jetlagged Mama Bear some coffee.  We stopped at one of the very old-school grand caffes on the piazza in front of our hotel and ordered her a Bicerin - coffee with chocolate and cream.  And likker, though we ordered it senza.

She liked it muchly.

We walked up towards the area of town that looked most likely to house good restaurants.  Torino looks very much northern European - definitely different than Florence.  We wondered what the city looked like before the Olympics, since it looks newly spruced up.  Our Rough Guide was hilariously out of date, describing traffic-free piazzas as "choked with cars" and one immaculate space as a giant hole in the ground awaiting a new car park.

We think the loggias are a great idea that should be adopted in the southern US.

I found myself really liking Torino already.  It was open and full of air.  The buildings here are of a completely different style than we've grown used to - back to the Baroque!

And neoclassical!  (Check out the wide-angle on our new little Canon SD800 IS... we love love love.  Wave hi to your new fans, little guy!)

At 7:45, the town had barely started thinking about the evening meal.  Bars were bustling with a crowd of attractively-dressed Torinese, drinking dainty cocktails and munching on buffet-style hors d'ouevres.

We, however, were hungry.  Yummy picnic lunches don't stick with you forever!  There were lots of really nice-looking restaurants around - definitely the type of city that caters to a lot of discerning locals, not just tourists coming in from out of town wanting bistecca fiorentina and crostini toscani (I'm looking at YOU, Florence!). We actually saw Argentinian and Mexican restaurants!

We decided on Tre Galli, based on their yummy-looking menu and 73-page wine list.  73 PAGES, people!

Nice bread basket - with olive bread and the Piemontese breadstick, or grissini.

We ordered a delicious Dolcetto, Diano d'Alba La Lepre (2004, if you're counting), and split a delicious but tiny sformato di asparagi con fonduta.  That's asparagus pudding with melted cheese sauce.  We wanted more.

Moving on - a maltagiata con ragu' di mare.  This was a bit of a disappointment - the pasta was cooked well, but the seafood sauce was pretty bland.  Matter of fact, for me the overwhelming taste was of the flat-leaf parsley garnish.  Meh.

The orecchiete were better - but they better have been, since they were topped with speck and gorgonzola.  I mean, smoked cured ham and blue cheese?  That's like the best combination there is!  The fava beans, though deliciously fresh and in season right now, were totally overpowered.

Too bad the pasta was way undercooked.

After all this food, we were totally full, and decided once again to drink our desserts.  When our waitress told us they had an amaro (bitters) made in house, an involintary "oooh!" escaped my lips... and the waitress totally imitated me.  I really deserved that.

The amaro was clear!  Wierd!  And it tasted like flowers.  I dunno... I still like my amaro del capo.

By the time we left the restaurant, near 11 PM, the streets were totally full of people strolling and enjoying the cool evening.  A beer tent was set up outside of a bar, and Husbear stood in line to get us a couple.

While Husbear was waiting for his beer at the front of the line, two gypsy kids (age of 12? 14?) sidled up next to him.  When their requests for free tequila were met with "vai!" or "Go away!" they waited until the bartender's back was turned and poured themselves shots!  Ballsy.

The walk home was really pretty.  We flexed our cameras trying to capture Turin by night.

Good night, Torino!  We'll see you in the mo'nin.

Enjoying San Gimignano in Twenty Easy Steps

Your results may vary, depending on the time of year.

Brief update:  The lack of posts recently is due to the fact that Mama Bear has returned, and we've been off on a jaunt through various Italian locales, from Turin to Aosta to Venice to Ravenna.  Between two long, long weekends, we've had a grand total of one day in Florence, and that was spent not blogging. 

Last night, the Soup Peddler and his lovely wife came to visit on their way through town.  We had a great time, talking soups and Italy and Austin and media.  They're off to Lucca today.   Gawd we miss Austin.

Tonight we're welcoming Carrie and Shiloh, in from Nashville after a two-day stop in Paris.  Also, wish Husbear luck - his simulation is TONIGHT!  He's been at Apicius since 9 this morning and will with any luck finish up by about 1 in the morning.  Maybe someday you'll even get to read a post about it.

Anyhoo... a couple of weeks ago we went to San Gimignano, the many-towered teeny town that may perhaps be the most visited village in Tuscany.  A quick guide to enjoyment:

1. Arrive in town from Florence by bus, changing in Poggibonsi.  Admire the towers that meet you immediately upon getting through the gate.  They're all that remains of a medieval game of oneupsmanship.  (My tower's bigger than your tower!)

2. Realize that there's a reason this town is on so many daytripper tourist itineraries.  They even have a pretty well!

3. Stop at one of the many salumerie along the main drag, and ask them to put together a couple of sandwiches for you.  Buy a five euro bottle of cold white wine, preferably Vernaccia di San Gimignano (hey, it's local!) and smile while you talk them into opening it for you.

4. Take the sandwiches up the hill to the Rocca, the old Medici fort at the top of town.

5. Eat slowly, savoring the wine and the salami made from cinghiale - wild boar.  Watch the other tourists stroll through the park, looking at the sidewalk artists' work.

6.  Realize that if you want to see anything, you're going to have to get in gear.  Walk slowly back down the hill, but don't neglect to take pictures of the town while you're walking.

7.  Buy a ticket to visit the Duomo (actually the Collegiata, since San Gimignano no longer rates a bishop - but who's counting?).  Slap yourself for forgetting to bring sleeves to visit a church.  Sigh with relief that you obviously aren't the first to do this, as the ticket-taker drapes a giant piece of blue paper over your shoulders. (Why do I keep doing this?)

8. Go inside and take a long look at the frescoes, including a cycle by Michelangelo's fresco teacher Ghirlandaio.

9. Be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN to find Bartolo de Fredi's 1367 fresco of Noah drunkenly exposing himself.  (Check out Taddeo di Bartolo's Last Judgment, too, though that one is full of creepy devil rape and I didn't want to include a picture of it.  We're a family blog here, people, at least most of the time.)

10. Leave the Collegiata, making a special stop around the corner at Gelateria di Piazza on Piazza della Cisterna (number 4).  OMG. 

11. Eat lots and lots of gelato.  Their pistachio, which we think may have cardamom in it, is the best version of that ubiquitous flavor we've ever had.

12. Stop into the Pinacoteca - find Memmo di Filipuccio's hilarious wedding frescoes.  Plan to revive the popularity of the husband-riding contest.

13. Take note of the way the little husband keeps his gothic hat on all the time - not only during the husband-riding contest, but also in the couple's bath and into bed.

14. Climb Torre Grossa, which is connected to the Pinacoteca.  Grumble with irritation at the rule prohibiting bags of any kind from the top of the tower and juggle your nice SLR camera.  Critique view.

15. Repeat. Hey, there's that well again!

16. Descend from tower, gather bags from free lockers, and walk back up towards the Rocca to investigate this Museo del Vino (Wine Museum) you've read about.  Stagger backwards, struck dumb by the setting of the few small tables.

17. Go inside and share a tasting of local wines.  I think we got five or six generous pours for 6 euro.  Choose your favorite, buy a whole glass, and take it outside to enjoy on the terrace.  Sigh happily.

...

18. Investigate nearby pay toilet that the table of women from Seattle were so impressed with over at the next table.  If you're a camera freak, take say five or six pictures.

19. Start making your way back down towards the bus station, but definitely stop off at Ceramicista Artistica Balducci.  Buy one of his uniquely lovely pieces.  We couldn't afford his oil pourers that funnel spilled drops back into the bottle, but we did buy a small cruet for vinegar or oil.  Ask nicely, and he may allow you a picture.  (Potrei fare una foto?  Grazie.)

20. Continue on towards bus station, stopping to pick up some inexpensive olive wood utensils.  Wave goodbye to the town walls from the bus station as you board.

Yup.  We really liked San Gimignano, though we were prepared to absolutely hate it.  Luckily, we were there on an April Friday - more than one person told us not to come back in May, as the town would be ugly and hot.  Doubt the ugly - full, maybe.

Ceramica Balducci:  Esposizione, Piazza delle Erbe, 5 (behind the Rocca) San Gimignano 0577.943188

Laboratorio, Podere Malacoda, Via S. Donnino 163.  Certaldo.  0571.660182

Dragging Nana to Siena

Well, since I last wrote, we're up one Mama Bear, freshly arrived from Mandeville with a suitcase half full of things we begged her to bring.  We're leaving in just a couple of hours for Torino and points north and Piedmonty, so let's see if I can put up a post about Siena before we go, shall we?

A post that's REALLY heavy on the pictures.  Didn't have time or the werewithal to edit down the numbers...

With Nana in tow, we hopped a bus and wound through Chiantishire towards Siena.  We arrived and checked into our hotel and immediately went in search of panforte, the Sienese yumminess that's basically a fruitcake, if a fruitcake was delicious.

Two types, panpepato (spicier) and fig and walnut.  Only one type of grandmother in this pic, though.

Then, we walked over to the Campo, Siena's main square.  It's where the Palio takes place every year, that frenetic 90 seconds of dashing horses and flailing jockeys into which the Sienese pour a lifetime's worth of neighborhood pride.  When we were there, it was just full of people sunning.  I'd put this up there with the prettiest sqares we've seen in Europe.  (And I'd say we've seen a good number, at least here in Italy.)

There's a fountain with panels by Jacopo della Quercia, whose works are all over Bologna and Lucca.  Pigeons balanced precariously, fluttering and drinking at the same time.

Then, over to the Duomo, continuing our greatest hits tour of Siena.  A fruit stand caught our eye on the way - you would not believe the amount of fruit Nana consumed while she was here.  (Well, perhaps if you knew her, you'd believe it.)

The Duomo in Siena is impressive.  No, that's not the right word for it... it's huge, and twinkles as the sun hits the mosaics above the doors.  Plus the sides are striped with marble.  They weren't going for "understated" with this building.

But it's when you get inside that the building really shines.  I've never seen another church this big with striped columns - and they're all marble, too.

(This one supports the enormous pole that held up the Florentine standard during the Battle of Montaperti, captured by the Sienese in oh, 1260 or so...)

There are so many treasures in this building.  For one, there's a small statue of Paul that Michelangelo carved early in his career for the Cardinal Piccolomini.  And off to the side, in a small chapel, is a John the Baptist by Donatello - reminiscent of his Mary Magdalene here in Florence.

There's also a crazily detailed pulpit by Nicola Pisano, which has at its base these very detailed lions and lionesses feasting on sheep and horses and such.  It's apparently supposed to be a metaphor for the Church devouring paganism, but it does look a bit strange on a pulpit.

Even Bernini, the Baroque master whose works are scattered all over Rome, is represented here.  Here's his St. Jerome playing the crucifix.  Bernini's one of my favorites - what that man can do with a chunk of marble...

The floor of the Duomo is also intricately decorated, though most of it is usually covered with protective sheeting.  Since we were there the day before Easter, even more of the floor was covered than usual because of the number of chairs set up for Easter Mass, but here's a taste - a detail of the Slaughter of the Innocents. 

Then there's the Piccolomini Library, a huge frescoed room dedicated to the life and exploits of Aeneas Piccolomini, later Pope Pius II. 

Here's the bit that shocked me - these are the original colors!  Because of the amount of light coming into this room, candles were rarely lit, so soot didn't cover up the original brilliance of Pinturicchio's paint.

We were just amazed.

Leaving the Duomo, we walked around the side of the building to the Duomo Museum.  On the side of the church, you can see the beginnings of an ambitious expansion project that would have made the Duomo just absolutely enormous.  The modern nave would have become the transept (that's the long middle part becoming the crossbar).  But then defeat by Florence, and the plague, forced abandonment.  Today, if you buy a ticket to the Duomo Museum, you can climb to the top of the unfinished facade!

Guess what we were about to do.

Don't worry, Nana kept great track of us.  Actually, she climbed up to the first level - not too shabby for 84!  (This involved a big spiral staircase being used simultaneously for ascending and decending, not an easy feat on a spiral staircase!)

The views were worth the climb, I thought.

From the top, the Campo looked just beautiful.

Speed up!  Low on time!

The Duomo Museum itself was interesting, but not... mind-blowing.  Duccio's pretty window was there.

DINNER!  Husbear's birthday dinner, to be exact - thanks Nana and Jenny!  Hostaria il Cartoccio.  (A cartoccio, I learned, is a medieval Tuscan battle cart - priests say Mass from it, it carries trumpeters and the battle standard, etc.)

Crazy antipasta.  Cup of liver, anyone?  No?  How about seventeen cured meats and a selection of delicious toasted topped breads?

Nana really wanted her some stewed veal, and that's what she got.  Though we think it was vitellone, or old veal.  (Italians differentiate between types of veal.)  She was hoping for some stewed veggies in there, but... nope.  If the Italian menu says stewed veal, that's what you get... just stewed veal.

Luckily, she ordered a sformato di spinaci for the side - a spinach pudding.  We ordered one too.

Puddingy!

Husbear and I, of course, did some coursing...

Primi - a risotto with lettuce, gorgonzola, and nettles!  Sounds tastier than the execution really was, I think.  Though I could just eat a wedge of blue cheese.

And a dish of pici, that famous Sienese pasta, here their house version - ham, mushrooms, onions, creamy, yummy.  Not homemade, I don't think - the shapes seemed a little too regular for that.

We split a secondo, a sliced meatloaf in peppercorn cream sauce.  Good, though too salty, I thought.

Dessert - "Do you have amaro?"  No.  "Limoncello?"  No.  GRAPPA.

Theirs was in a bottle with pear and coffee - a really good idea, though it was time to change out the flavorants.  Husbear is really liking the grappa.  Yurch.

Next morning - back to Nannini!  Not for panforte this time, but for breakfast.  Can you believe we did this to my grandmother?  I'm kind of embarassed showing it, but it's too funny not to share.

The morning was spent first at a Chagall and Miro' exhibit, which we enjoyed.  I'm a big Chagall fan (the museum of his works outside of Nice is well worth the trip, if you find yourself in the area), though not so much Miro'.  Sorry, guy.

No cameras here.

So, how about food stores instead?  Siena has some great ones!

Here's one with a bike in front that Nana wanted us to document for my uncle Erik.  Cool wicker bicycle, though I was more impressed with the prosciutto hanging in the window.  But that's me.  Always.

So, you know the color Sienna?  Named after the town, which is all that burnt orangey-brown because of the color of the soil surrounding the place.

We took a midday bus out of town, feeling pretty good about what we'd seen.  Goodbye, Siena - we liked your wisteria!  And your church was pretty cool, too.

And, we're off!  We don't get back until Tuesday, so please cut us some slack at least until then...

girlie

Wrapping up the wine jaunt - Montalcino and Montepulciano

After a lovely morning of trying Croce di Mezzo's tasty wines, we headed into nearby Montalcino to get a brief taste of the town and grab some lunch.

Montalcino is a pretty little hilltop town.  (Look at the last post for a view of the whole place.)  We rather liked this cathedral, and were sort of surprised to read that Lonely Planet describes it as "an ugly 19th-century neoclassical travesty."  Maybe we all just like neoclassical travesties?

Walking down the main drag, we spotted a good-sounding restaurant from our Lonely Planet and decided to drop in and investigate.

Osteria di Porta al Cassero was full of Italian families enjoying a late Saturday lunch.  We placed our order and then sat back, only to have our very generous crostini misti plate arrive almost instantaneously!

It's a measure of both how hungry we were and how good it looked that we forgot to take a picture until we had started to demolish the plate...

This was a really generous crostini plate, for only 3.50 euro - there were five kinds of crostini represented!  One was toscani (chicken liver pate), one porcini mushroom, one a onion jam, one tomato sauce, and one fresh tomato.  All quite good, we thought.

After that, we only ordered one course.  Keef was feeling a bit cold, so he went for the "zuppa di pane", or bread soup - actually a thick vegetable soup served over Tuscan bread.

Jodi and Husbear were feeling more pasta-ey, so Jodi ordered the Maccheroni al Sugo (which was a long, thick ribbon pasta, not elbow macaroni, and which we only photographed blurrily), and Husbear got the Pinci co' le briciole, pici pasta with bread crumbs.  True cucina povera, or cooking of the poor.  Both of their pastas were fresh, homemade, and absolutely stellar.

And I got tongue.  It was on the menu, and this seemed like the place to finally give it a try.  I thought it was really tasty - it reminded me of the bollito sandwich at Nerbone, which is a fatty boiled beef cut.  Though this was topped with a delicious basil, parsley, and caper sauce.  Husbear pointed out that I'd probably eat anything topped with capers, and he's right.

It was a little surprising that the tongue came with its own contorni, or vegetable sides - I've gotten used to this not being the case in Italian restaurants.

We were completely stuffed at this point, so we asked for one (1) tiramisu to split.  The waiter looked at us strangely, but he did bring it, and it was just as good as the rest of the meal.

I think the four of us would strongly recommend this restaurant to anyone finding themselves in Montalcino near mealtime.  They did solid Tuscan food, with an even more local emphasis.  I'd really like to try their tripe.

Lunch finished, we walked the rest of the way down the main road to the Fortezza, or fortress.  Gotta love a fortress with a wine bar in it...

Just on the other side of the fortress was a small garden with beautiful views back towards town.  It looked like it would have been a great place to sit with a picnic lunch and a bottle of local wine.

Unfortunately, it was really time for us to be going if we wanted to see anywhere else before heading back to Florence.  We retrieved the car and drove towards Montepulciano.

We did have to stop a few times to admire the Crete Senese, or Sienese hills - covered with wildflowers this time of year.  The grape vines were just starting to bud, as well.

Just makes you want to roll down the hill, doesn't it?  We didn't, since we had places to be.

Here, specifically.

That town on top of the hill is Montepulciano.  Wine people likely recognize the name, because of the town's famous Vino Nobile di Montepulciano.  The town does have a lot of un-wine-related beauty, though. 

Like a Fiat CinqueCento convention!  (yeah, probably not every day.  But hey, how awesome is that?)

This is a car that invites crazed loyalty.  Sort of like the Volkswagen Beetle.  They're much too cute not to love.

Montepulciano is a very Tuscan town, with evidence of the Medici everywhere.  Once you learn to recognize their family crest, with the six balls, it's amazing how often it turns up.  (Here, it's in the top of that well you see between the buildings.)

And you have to love the shades of brown.  Jodi and Keef were so excited to see all of the wall treatments visible in the town.

Of course, there are enoteche all over town selling the local wines.  They're really tempting! 

On the other side of Piazza Grande, we found an overlook that allowed spectacular views across the lower part of town and the valley below.  What a wonderful place!

While we were in town, we knew we had to go visit a cantine - a place where we could learn a bit more about the local wines and hopefully even taste a few.

The first one we looked at was rather uninviting... and smelled sort of strongly like weed, which was a little odd, given that it didn't appear too laid-back!

We recrossed Piazza Grande and walked through an open door into Cantine Contucci.  There was nobody in sight, and we walked in.   I was in the back and turned around to find a crotchety-looking older man staring at me, and asked him if we could enter.  He waved us on, looking perurbed...

When we finished our exploration, I tried to ask him a few questions in Italian, and he lit up.  He talked with Husbear about learning Italian cooking, stroked the back of my head (sort of creepily, I thought), and expounded to us about Vino Nobile di Montepulciano.  Apparently, it got its name by being the favored wine of the Medici.

We bought a bottle of his wine.  By this time, it was getting late in the afternoon - so, back to the car, back to the Florence airport, back to the house...

Jodi and Keef had what I hope was a relaxing last night in town before having to catch their flight to Paris in the morning.  They had an overnight in Paris before flying back to Houston... and I hope that went well!

Next posts - seder, and then on to Nana's visit!  And I'm trying to talk husbear into a cookin' post, but we shall see.

Back to J/K, this time in the hinterlands of Tuscany!

'Course, Tuscany doesn't really have too many hinterlands, so in the interest of accuracy let's say... wine country?

Once more, the house is quiet.  Nana left yesterday for what turned out to be a 24-hour odyssey across Europe and back to the East Coast (she got home at 4 A.M.!).  I've been indulging a newfound craving for kebobs and hummous and enjoying the absolutely beautiful day, which Husbear had to spend in class and then going to his LAST DAY of work!  Eep!

We have two weeks before Mama Bear arrives, and that two weeks will be full of blog entries and planning for our trip to Thailand and Vietnam, for which we leave in just under a month.  There's so much to do!

But first, let's see what Jodi and Keef did with their last two days in town!

Unfortunately, they weren't so lucky on the weather.  It was drizzling when we picked up our car, a hideously gold Smat ForFour, at the airport just outside of town.  We drove south, trying to pick up the Strada Chiantigiana (Chianti Road) and only made one wrong turn.

We were all pretty hungry, so at the first turnoff we spotted with picinc tables, we laid out a Husbear-packed picnic.

We ate our fill of Florentine schiacciata (that flat, salty bread in my right hand), spicy Calabresi 'nduja pork fat sausage, two kinds of cured meat, olives and caper berries, taleggio and parmesan cheese, strawberries, and pears.  Ah yes, and some wine to wash the picnic down.

Lunch was yummy, but the rain was starting to come down a little harder, so we went into the Cantinetta da Verazzano tasting room that shared our picnic parking lot and tasted their wines.  The Supertuscan was nice, but the Chiantis were both really meant to go with food, I think.

On the road again... admiring the vineyards of Tuscany.

Right about this time, we realized that we would soon be driving awfully close to Panzano in Chianti, home of Dario Cecchini's butcher shop.  (Here's our visit to see him last September.)

Since we knew we had an avowed meat-lover in the car, what could we do but pull over and park?

We were the only people in the shop this time, a marked difference from our last visit - a market Saturday.  Dario himself was behind the counter, breaking down a side of beef.  We asked if we could take pictures.

After ten or twelve, he asked us if we perhaps hadn't had enough?  We were offered glasses of his house Chianti and sampled the polpettone laid out on the sidebar.  (That's a giant meatball, really a meatloaf.  Delicious with his pepper jelly.)  We also got to try a taste of what he calls the Butter of Chianti (Burro del Chianti, I think) - seasoned pork fat. 

Why not?  It's such a tempting white fluffy mound in the case.  And it is delicious, rich and creamy and scented with Tuscan herbs.  And more than a little fatty.

We resisted the siren song of the meats and meat products and bought some of Dario's delicious pepper jelly, then hopped back in the car.

Next stop?  Siena, the town with a color named after it!  Mama Bear was rather insistent that Jodi and Keef get to see Siena's Duomo...

It was raining pretty hard at this point, and we?  Didn't have umbrellas.

We did take some pictures of the Duomo, but to be honest, they aren't very good.  Plus, we were back a week later with Nana and took some good sunny pictures, so if you wait until I get those blogged I promise it'll be worth it.  The church is amazing and the town is really quite something - it was crushed pretty thorougly by Florence and thus never really made it out of its Gothic years. 

After Siena, we got our thorougly soaked behinds back into the car and set out for Montalcino.  We arrived at the agriturismo where we'd be staying just outside of town (La Crociona, though their website seems to be on the fritz - here's a Slow Travler review), met the cat, and settled in.

Then we got hungry so we went to the agriturismo's restaurant for yummy Tuscan dinner.

Crostini Toscani!  Like I said, TUSCAN DINNER.  Tuscan Crostini is chicken liver pate on toasted bread.  Husbear makes a good one.  These guys did too.

We also got a little vegetable sformatino for an antipasta - it was basically like a little broccoli pudding cooked in a muffin tin.  A cute idea that I think you could apply to any number of Southern style casseroles.  But it doesn't make for a good picture.

So... on to the primi!  This is pici with cinghiale, basically big fat spaghetti with wild boar sauce.  Each area of Italy has their own pasta shape they're crazy for, and around Siena, it's pici.  (Pronounced with a "ch".)

I liked this - good meaty flavor, nice thick pasta.  I like thicker doughier pastas - never been a big fan of the angel hair!

Speaking of thicker doughier pastas, gnoccheti with seafood!  Little gnocchi (potato pasta dumplings) are yummers.  The seafood sauce was also very good.  Shell-on shrimp are only a good time if you know the people you're eating with pretty well... this isn't first-date food!

We also got a risotto made with the region's yummy Brunello wine, which I can't say made much sense... that wine costs upwards of 20 euro a bottle, so why would you cook with it?  Anyway, again, a big pile of brownish rice doesn't make for an interesting picture.  Plus, we're pretty sure they used beef bouilllion in the risotto, so...

on to the beef!  (With Keef with us, in Tuscany, isn't beef a given?)

When the waiter put this down on our table, he said "We can cook this a little more..."  In unison, our table said "NO!"  Delicious and tender... and the arugula is such a peppery nice match with the beef.

You know what else is a nice match with the beef?  Cipolline in agrodolce.  Literally, sweet and sour onions, but not Chinese style - these are vinegar and sugar and warm and delicious.  I think I ate the whole bowl before anyone else could get to it.

We also got some enormous grilled scampi and marveled at the price.  When Husbear wanted to buy a few of these last month in Florence, the seafood guy at the Mercato Centrale wanted 42 euro for 9 of them! (He didn't buy them.)  The restaurant was charging under the market price.

These scampi were delicious, with sweet tailmeat and enough meat in the claws to make it worth your while.

We were completely stuffed and so stuck to after dinner drinks - an amaro for me, limoncello for Jodi, and grappa for the boys.  Can't imagine why, but Husbear's becoming a grappa fan.  It tastes sort of like gasoline to me, but what do I know?

We went back to our agriturismo apartment and fell into bed.  We had a really nice little apartment, with two bedrooms and a kitchen - it would be a really nice place to stay for more than one night!

The next morning, we did a little exploring.  The agriturismo is located in the village of La Croce, which is so small it doesn't have a bar for morning coffee.

We re-met the cat, who was a total sweetheart.  When we checked in, Barbara (the daughter of the owners) told us his story.  Found just off the side of a highway after being grazed by a car, he was taken to a veterinarian where he took several months to recover.  He was such a loving kitty, though, that the family decided to adopt him.

"And that," said Barbara, "is where he got the name Lahhey."

?

"I like the English lahhey much more than the Italian, Fortuna," she said.

AH!  His name is Lucky!  The Tuscan accent doesn't allow for hard K sounds, and replaces them with a guttural "ch".

This cat actually tried to climb up on my shoulders when I stood close to his chair. 

We drove to the large roundabout just outside of Montalcino and found a bar there for a quick breakfast.  Cappuccini and pastries all around!  And views of Montalcino, of course.

After we returned to the agriturismo, Barbara gave us a high-spirited tour of the buildings that are used to hold conferences and meetings.  And then we got to see their wine cellars.

Croce di Mezzo makes Brunello, Montalcino's most highly regarded wine, but they also make the slightly more affordable Rosso di Montalcino. 

In the tasting room, we spent more than an hour tasting a couple of their quite good, tannic Rosso di Montalcinos, along with a couple of the precious Brunellos.  However, the one that we most enjoyed was their Supertuscan, which Jodi and Keef generously bought for us for a birthday present.  Thanks so much, you guys! 

Barbara wrapped it lovingly and told us to drink it without food.  Huh, think that's the first time I've heard that from an Italian!

I liked the rustic feel of the tasting room, with dusty bottles piled everywhere, but Barbara said they will be moving shortly to the newer building.  Such is progress.

So, that's the end of our first twenty-four hours in wine country.  I'll do another post with the rest of the day in it, but for now, it's time to go eat Husbear's Asian cooking.  Wooo!

And onward to Elba, Napoleon's home away from home... for almost a year.

After Napoleon got his butt whomped the first time, the powers-that-be thought he could be contained on a small island 30 kilometers off the Tuscan coast, called Elba.  After living there for just under a year, he escaped - stowed away on a ship - reformed his army, and went on to launch the Hundred Days.  After his defeat at Waterloo, he was sent to much more remote St. Helena, where he died just a few years later, probably from arsenic poisoning.  (Whether it was his hair pomade or an assassin is still a matter of debate.)

History lesson over!  Today, Elba is mostly renowned for its beaches.   Though we were going to see Napoleon's house and get ourselves a good dose of the pretty.

The main town of Portoferraio is indeed lovely.  We arrived somewhat the worse for wear, since the ferry ride from Piombino had been extremely rocky.

Actually, we were feeling so under the weather that we skipped dinner and went to bed early.  I KNOW.  Can you believe it?

Whatever - the next day we got up, availed ourselves of the rather inadequate Italian-style breakfast at the hotel, and grabbed a bus to Marciana.  It's a small town, high up in the interior of the island.

Thing is, since Marciana is higher up than Portoferraio, it was also quite a bit colder.  Did I mention in my post about Livorno that we were unprepared for the weather, having brought only lightweight jackets and no gloves?  Repeatedly?  OK.

Marciana was a delightful small town for wandering, though.

The views of Marciana Marina on the coast below were lovely.  We thought of the swimsuits we had optimistically packed and shook our heads ruefully.

After an hour or so wandering Marciana, looking at the walls of the closed Fortezza Pisana (Pisan Fortress) and the door of the closed Archaeological Museum, we had pretty much exhausted the town's tourist possibilities.  So we went into a small bar and ate an enormous bowl of vegetable soup and a sandwich and warmed up a little.

We took a bus the hour back down into Portoferraio (the bus driver left the back door of the bus open for a good chunk of the way down, adding to the interest of the ride).  Portoferraio, unlike Marciana, was sunny.  A good thing.

We had been unable to locate a good map of Portoferraio.  The tourist office didn't have one, and neither did our hotel - luckily, at the bus station that morning, we found a stylized one complete with bus routes.  Thus, we got a little lost in our wanderings - but Portoferraio is pretty small, so there's only so much lost you can get.

We did find the crumbling Medici fortress.

The town was pretty quiet, but certainly pretty for wandering around.

We found Napoleon's house when he lived in town, the Villa dei Mulini, but the hours listed in our book were wrong and it was closed for the day.  Ah well, we'll come back in the morning.

Portoferraio seems to be a bit of an odd town, under the surface.  We saw a lot of things that made us chuckle, if not laugh out loud.

I'm not really sure what market they were going for here...

This graffiti was on a basketball court.  Kids these days - where's the Natalia + Lorenzo = 4ever?  Who graffitis a fried egg?  Awesome.

Their political graffiti is also a little on the strange side.  Mortadella-butt here seems to be having a bad day.

And is this really common?  I don't think I've ever seen a panty dispenser before.  It was with a gum machine.

This is not particularly Elban, but is certainly Italian - here's a gentleman riding his scooter down the drainage trench in the middle of a long flight of stairs.  (At least this made us feel better about the time we drove down the stairs in the Gargano.)

We ended up finding a good place for dinner.  The handwritten menu was encouraging, even if the restaurant was right on the main piazza - Piazza della Repubblica.

As we worked our way through our tasty pizzas, we watched big burly Italian men making wine spritzers out of white wine, fizzy water, and lemon.  I've never seen this before!

The next morning, we returned to the top of the town to check out the inside of Napoleon's residence.  The house actually turned out to be pretty small, but the Imperial-style furniture inside was quite nice.  Not sure why Napoleon put a bed in the ballroom, though.

We toured the downstairs and the upstairs, and as we rounded the corner to head back downstairs our way was blocked by a beautiful large couch that had been in restoration.  Two men were maneuvering it up the stairs, so we got out of the way.

(Yes, then did bang it into the wall a bit trying to get it around the corner.)

So, we were downstairs admiring the last couple of rooms when we heard an argument behind us in Italian.  "I think that couch is supposed to be in this room," one of the curators said.  Next thing we knew, here comes the couch again from back outside.  Now, you'd think that before bringing the big expensive old couch into the house, and CERTAINLY before jimmying it up the stairs, the workers would have figured out where it's actually supposed to go?  Nah.

The gardens outside weren't in particularly good shape, but oh, the view...

All in all, the house was interesting - but I could definitely understand it chafing pretty hard if you've come from ruling most of Europe and a good chunk of Egypt.  It was small, especially coming from Fontainebleau, I'm sure.

With a little bit of time left before the ferry, we found an inviting little place and had a couple of plates of pasta.  Oh so healthy.  Shaddup.  I really wanted a big plate of gnocchi with gorgonzola, and that's exactly what I had.

We made it to our ferry, the Moby Baby (the one we arrived on was the Moby Lally... who names these things?).  I loved what the ticket-checker scrawled on our ticket.  OK, baby!

This ferry ride was a lot less... eventful? than the one to Elba.  We had some lovely views of the receding town.  Bye, Portoferraio!

And bye, Napoleon's house!

For some reason, being on the ferry made us crave french fries.  I think it's because the first nice ferry we ever took, from Santorini to Naxos in Greece, we got a big order of fries.  Unfortunately, they weren't to be found on this ferry.

By the time we changed trains twice and reached Pisa, the craving had become a full-blown obsession.  Therefore.

We shall never speak of this again.

And now, we are off to the airport to gather Jodi and Keith for their Italian adventure!  Look for posts about the wonderful time they're having sometime later this week.

A foodie pilgrimage: To Leghorn for Cacciucco!

This week is Husbear's Spring Break - time to get out of Florence and see a little something!  Since we're in full-on saving money for Southeast Asia mode (yes, we are going to Southeast Asia for a month in May/June!) we decided to stay pretty close to home.

So, Leghorn and Elba it is!

Firstly, let me address the silliest Anglicized name I've heard so far in Italy.  Apparently, we have the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley to blame for the conversion of Livorno to Leghorn.  Personally, I can't say "we went to Leghorn" without giggling, so, if you don't mind, Livorno it is.

We left Firenze on a warm Spring day.  Monday.  When we arrived in Livorno, it was obviously still December - probably 30 degrees colder outside and drizzling.  We were woefully unprepared for the weather and immediately broke our umbrella.

We didn't have too much trouble finding our 40 euro/night pensione, the Pensione Dante.  Luckily, we had no plans to go to the Museo di Storia Naturale del Mediterraneo, since we might still be searching for it.

The pensione itself was fine, a traditional bathroom-down-the-hall dealie run by a friendly older lady.  Signage on the outside was a little off-putting, though.

That handwritten sign hanging under the window says "Pensione Open," though if I didn't know better I might have guessed it said "Danger: Ax Murderer."

A nice lady at a tourist information kiosk gave us some very slick promotional materials, including six different walking itineraries we could take around Livorno.  Now, Livorno isn't considered one of Tuscany's prettier towns - it's not its fault, though, since the town was all-but leveled by bombing during World War Two.  It had been one of the main Fascist naval bases, which is perhaps why it's now one of Italy's most left-leaning cities?

Anyway, we found the beginning of the "Historic Livorno" walk, the Ponte di Marmo (or Marble Bridge).  It became a little clear that Livorno was having to reach pretty far to find tourist attractions.

The bridge is actually more interesting than it appears at first glance, though - there are etchings on the top, left by the Livornese as tributes to fallen comrades.  They are now pretty much impossible to decipher, though.

At this point, it was well on towards lunchtime.  The place we had wanted to go appeared closed, so we walked back to a little establishment Husbear had noticed nearby.  His eye was caught by the name - "Enostuzzicheria dal Capino."  This appeared to be a mash-up of Enoteca, or wine store, with Stuzzicheria, or buffet-style snack place.  We went in and were immediately warmed by the sight of a large display case with several different dishes set out for our perusal.  We made our choices, ordered a bottle of house wine, and sat down.

Things got off to a really good start with a great bread basket.  This particular Tuscan bread, though saltless according to tradition, was delicious with a nice soft center.  The schiacciata, another traditional bread that's flatter and salty, was also quite good.  We felt ourselves begin to warm up.

The Zuppa Toscana (Tuscan soup) banished the remaining cold.

Like Husbear says, you can tell a traditional Tuscan soup by the way it can be eaten with a fork.  Thickened with bread, this vegetable soup really hit the spot. 

Our other choice for primi was something that honestly didn't look all that great in the case, but was more than inviting when it made it onto the table.

I suppose you could call this an eggplant napoleon, grilled eggplant layered with meat and bechamel sauce.  Oh my god - so simple, so easy to prepare ahead of time, but so good.  Husbear is going to recreate this at home if I have any say in the matter.

For our secondi, we ordered a plate of marinated anchovies and some sliced meats and cheeses.  The plate was extra generous - so large that the two types of pecorino didn't make it into the picture.  Oops.  The prosciutto and pancetta and other sausages did, though.

Definitely warmed, and really full, we decided to skip dessert in favor of asking about an after-dinner drink mentioned in the tourist brochures.  Ponce alla Livornese, or Livorno Punch, was not what we were thinking it would be...

Turned out, rather than something like Planter's Punch (a sweet, bright red New Orleans concoction), Ponce alla Livornese is coffee with liquor in it.  Rum and Italian cognac, to be precise.  Again, perfect for a cold day.

This enormous meal was really quite reasonably priced.  And everything was so good!  It's truly one of the nicest things about a town that doesn't get a lot of tourists - it's much easier to find good restaurants just by chance than it is in Florence or Rome or Venice or Paris, for that matter.

Well and thoroughly warmed, we left dal Capino to see a little more of Livorno.  This church was bombed during World War Two - only the center nave remains of the original structure.

The church of Santa Caterina was a bit of a surprise.  Lately, I've been noticing more and more churches here built in the round - I'm not sure if I just hadn't been seeing them before, or what?  The literature was silent over whether this Church ever had a decorated facade.

We went by the Fortezza Vecchia, or Old Fortress, left by the Medici after they took over.  Now, it looks like it might break apart any second and tumble into the sea.

Another of the walks we wanted to do sent us along the waterfront for a good ways.  We saw a large statue dedicated to Ferdinando I de'Medici.  Around the base are arrayed four men in chains who are supposed to be Turks.

Honestly, we didn't make it very far into the 6-kilometer waterfront walk before we just got too cold and covered with sea spray.  We did see the Scoglio della Regina, or the Queen's Bathing House.  Doesn't look like much today, but I guess in the latter half of the 19th century it was quite the fashionable place to go for a swim. 

I have to say, our first reaction on seeing it was "We froze our butts off for THIS?"

At this point, it was obviously time for another ponce.  Seriously, it had been really warm all week in Florence - we weren't ready to deal with this cold again!

We walked along one of Livorno's main shopping streets, admiring the stores and the graffiti.

(Mouse over or click on