Cinque Terre

Jes and I spent the beginning of this week in Cinque Terre. A world famous destination (and a bit of a tourist trap) Cinque Terre is a beautiful stretch of coastline in northwestern Italy. The name, which means 5 lands in English, comes from the 5 villages spaced out over about a 15 km stretch of Big-Sur-esk coastline. We stayed in the lowest town, Riomagiorre, and hiked between each all the way to the furthest north and beyond. The towns themselves were packed with tourists, and some of the lower trails were more like freeways, but when possible we choose the higher trials. They were often quite confusing, and sometimes precarious, but were really the only way to get away from the crowds. The view from the mountains was beautiful, and walking through the terraced orchards and vineyards was very enjoyable. We must have climbed 10,000 stairs. Good thing the sea was nearby! The water was warm and clear, and we took every opportunity to go for a swim. 

Monday night we had an awesome at dinner at what we think is the last authentic Italian restaurant in Chinque Terre, Osteria a Cantina de Mananan. The food was unbelievable, and the service was... Italian. To date it was the food best we'd had in Italy, but beware, to insist on ordering in English is liable to get you denied service. We saw a few people get the cold shoulder. For us it was fresh pasta with a traditional pesto, local pesce, cozze (mussels), and pana cotta con miele.

Un Altra Saluti

Top Row: Jes, Me Ruben. Bottom
Row: Helga (Chris's Friend), Chris, Kate (Another WWOOFer)

Bruno and me. He wasn't there for the group photo...

I am getting tired of goodbyes. On to another month and another adventure. Tanti Saluti Christiane, Ruben, Bruno, and all of the other fantastic people I have met in Cagli. Grazie mille per tutti! It's been another unforgettable experience!

Facciendo Pane / Lavorare in il Bosco / e piu

I've made several entries about my free time, so here's one about the work. Forgive my disjointed topic jumping...

During this time of the year, most of the work in the winter gardens is weeding. We joke that we spend more time and energy uprooting unwated plants, than encouraging wanted ones to take root. I guess, this is the reality of mechanical weed managment. Every 4 or 5 days we make a pass through the garden with our zappas chopping off the weeds and loosening the soil. We follow this up immediately with water. It's a good system because the water soaks in to the loosened soil nicely (here there is a lot of clay), and the freshly chopped weeds drink less, leaving more for the veggies. Currently, we are also transplanting plants and seeding the summer garden. There are about 160 pomodori (tomatos), as well as peperoni (peppers), zuccini, melanzana (eggplant), and several types of beans. I don't have a picture of myself working in the garden, but here is one of Jes. A surprise change in travel plans landed here her with me for the last week at the farm.

Coral fencing in Italy is quite different than in the US. It's janky. You could call it okie-rigged, if only we used duct tape. We use a heavey iron rod to dig out a post hole. The posts are just branches from the woods, all different lengthes and diameters, some of them very crooked. To connect them, one or two wires does the job, maybe even string in some places. The gates are where things get really creative. I've seen everything from pallates tied with rope to box springs serving this purpose. I guess if it works, it works!

Every year Ruben thins out their woodland. The trick is to have enough sun on the forest floor for young trees to grow, but not cut faster than the trees are replaced. This optimizes the wood production, and keeps the forest in a nice healthy state. They use some of the wood for their own firewood, and sell the rest. This year ruben felled about 40 trees. We have to load all of this wood and bring it the house. It's heavy work, as some of the trunks are around 2 feet wide. But the forest makes a nice office. I can't complain! When we work in the forest we are usually joined by Ruben's friend Moreno, an avid backpacker, and fellow english speaker. Today was his last day of work. Tomorrow he flies to spain to spend a month packing on the Camino de Santiago, a 1,000km trail through the heart of Spain.

The other day we took about 65 kilos of wheat berries to the mill to be ground. 20 years ago this was a comon practice. Now, there is only one mill in the vicinity that will grind small quantities of flour for individual farms. After an hour drive, with several stops to ask directions, we arrived. It was an interesting little place. Full of noisy machinery, it was sort of rimenicent of a small print shop. Instead of smelling of ink and acetone, it smelled like bread! I've read a bit about the process of harvesting wheat berries and grinding them , how to get different types of flour, ect, so it was facinating for me to see the process in person. Chris has already made pizza dough with the fresh ground flour. È buonisimo! Yesterday we made a starter for the yeast, and today we made 20 loaves in the woodfire oven.

Que Bello Giorno/Pizza 2000

 


Yesterday (Sunday May 15th) was awesome! It was the 1 full day Jes would have with me in Cagli, and it rained pretty much all day. Yet, for me, I think this will be one of the most memorable days of the trip.

The morning was beautiful, warm and sunny. I gave the tour of the farm and the gardens, and we walked down to the lake, pointing out the wild cherry, fig, and apple trees on the way. I go to this lake often, but as we approached there was a peculiar stirring of fish, frogs and birds. Never before had this lake seemed so alive. We sat on the dock watching the coming storm, listening to the wildlife. Small fish were surfacing so often, at times it looked like it could have been raining.

When the weather began to look threatening we headed back to the house. The plan for the day had been to climb Mt Catria. But due to the impending rain, we decided to head to a nearby Canyon called Passa de Furlo instead. In my past experience it has only rained here for short periods, so we stopped for panini, hoping it would pass quickly. No such luck. We drove back and forth through the canyon, wishing we didn't have to be highway tourists. Passa de Furlo is gorgeous. It reminds me of Kings Canyon in California. It is very narrow with huge rock walls rising up on both sides. The river is dammed at the east end, so for the last half kilometer you are driving next to a narrow little lake. Right before you leave the canyon, the road passes through a tunnel that was carved out by the Romans. Apparently this canyon lies on an ancient route from Roma to Fano, one of the most important sea ports of that time. I can only imagine what the canyon must have been like that long ago!

The rain lightened up, so we decided drive up a windy little road that was supposed to lead to a trailhead above the canyon. But as we climbed the weather worsened again. Near the top, we came across 4 stranded hikers, soaked to the bone, and completely lost. They had climbed up from the opposite end of the canyon, and lost their way due to the low visibility caused by the rain and fog. So, we gave them a ride to their car. They were very nice old folks–English citizens now living in Pesaro. They were very thankful we had come to save them. With lots of thanks, they insisted on us taking their phone number and made an invitation to stay in Pesaro any time we'd like, with a promise to open a very special bottle of wine on the occasion. Too bad we have no time!

At this point Jes and I decided to cut our losses and head for shelter. So, we drove to Urbino. Urbino is the largest town in the area, home to a university, and some very impressive architecture. While it is no match for nature, it was worth the visit. Of course, once we got to the town the rain let up. We spent a few hours walking around the historical center, and discovered a few interesting shops, parks, gardens, ect. Tiny little walkways wound between brick buildings. They were often quite steep, and lined with moss. It was such an strange and fascinating urban-scape.

Finally we headed to Aqualagna and Bruno's restaurant, "Pizzeria 2000". The name, and the fact that this restaurant is near the autostrada made me wary. I was halfway expecting something along the lines of and Italian take on Pub and Sub. We pulled up in front of a low, long purple building with a neon "Pizzeria 2000" sign. To our surprise we entered to two shabby sheik dinning rooms, with formal white table clothes, wine glasses, and all the decor of a fancy joint. The menu had a long list of very interesting pizzas, and an option for a 4 course meal (antipasti, primi piati, secondi, dolci). In the nearest dinning room, Bruno was tossing pizzas into an enormous wood-fire oven.

We ordered a pork chop and some fried greens, and a pizza with tomato, mozzarella, spinach, roasted potatoes and salsice. Dessert was chocolate and mascarpone. It was fantastic! Bruno is a pizza master. After dinner he came out of the kitchen with a bottle of limoncello and sat down for a chat. As he was getting up to go back to work he said, "questa note, non paggi". "Non paggiamo!?" we exclaimed. We tried, but to no avail. È gratis. As we were pulling out of the parking lot, he ran out with two "Pizzeria 2000" t-shirts. I cannot believe my fortune. I have found such genuine, kind people here. Millè grazie Bruno!

Mt Petrano

Cagli is a the base of a plateau called Mt Petrano. It's a very unique place. The drive to the top takes about 20 minutes from Cagli. You wind through dense forest getting occasional wide views of the country side below. Nearing the top, the forest gives way to grassland. During the week, you will see many locals mushroom hunting around it's edges. This area is famous for its fungi and truffles.

Jes and I drove up to the top saturday evening, hoping it wouldn't be to crowded. We ended up being the only people on the mountain! t's an incredible place. The plateau is at least 1 km wide and maybe 2 or 3 long. Gentle rolling hills covered with wildflowers stretch out in every direction. The grass is trimmed short in the early spring by grazing cattle, so now it is like an enormous lawn. To the east there are incredible views of the Umbrian Alps, and to the west the Marche campagna and the Adriatic Sea in the distance. So, beautiful! In the winter, Chris says it is all covered in snow. I have never seen anywhere else like this. Really, the photos don't begin to do it justice!

Zuppa di Herba

On this farm, my work has been very diverse. In a little over a week, I've done a little bit of everything; weeding, watering, harvesting, gathering herbs, preparing new land to be planted, making soap, installing coral fencing. One thing I have found particularly interesting is Chris's solution to pests: herb soup.

Here are the ingredients:

- Ortica (stinging nettle, this is the most important ingredient)

- Farfara

- Equineto (horse tail)

- Cousolida Maggiore (comfrey)

- Acchilea (yarrow)

Mix with water, and let it sit in the sun for around a month. It becomes quite a stew! The soup smells like a mixture of fresh cut grass and barnyard yuck, and as you can see below, it looks delicious. The bee's love it, but I keep it at a distance when possible.

When applied to the leaves of plants, whether it be garden veggies, herbs or a wild cherry tree, this concoction is quite effective at deterring pests, and protects against a myriad of diseases. Being made of decaying plant matter, it also makes a great soil amendment. You could drink it if you really wanted to! But trust me, you wouldn't want to...

Either way, I am definitely going to be trying this at home.

Pesciamo in Italia

I did not expect to be fishing in Italy. Yet, here I am, watching my bobber, not entirely sure I want to catch one of these half meter carps. When you walk down to their private lake, you arrive at the near side where a small area has been cleared of trees and brush. The grass cut, so it makes a nice little area to sit and fish. The lake is small, and sort of murky, but still, its a nice place to sit, think, and practice my Italian. By the way, "fish" = "pesce".

Fishing with Bruno is a crack-up! Its quite a different method than any I've used before in the Sierra Nevada. We use bait and bobbers. Contrary to my typical strategy of stealthily dropping my bait in an optimal position and waiting silently, hoping to catch an unsuspecting trout, Bruno starts his fishing routine by stomping loudly on the metal framed dock. This must be to wake the pesce up. Then we casts out six or seven different poles baited with corn, polenta, pasta, whatever. Next he tosses out handfuls of bait into the water around each bobber.

We haven't had much luck yet, but I have enjoyed the sessions anyway. "È tranquilo", says Bruno. I have to agree.

Ciao da Santa Barbara (Cagli)

Here I am at the farm, called Santa Barbara, in Cagli. Oggi e lunedi (monday), e sto arrivato qui giovedi (thursday). As always, when moving to a new location and new life, there is a period of adjustment. But here, it was quick and easy.

The farmers are Christeane, a middle-aged woman and her sons. Chris traveled extensively in her youth. She she grew up in Germany, near Frankfurt, but moved to Barcelona for several years in her 20s to study dance theatre. To me it sounds like a hipster's life; 2am dinners with famous jazz musicians, living surrounded by artists, immersed in a bohemiean scene. Later on she met Pino, whom she married and helped to start this farm. Pino passed away 3 years ago, but Chris and their two sons, Ruben and Bruno, are carrying on and reviving the farm. She has her quirks, but her unfailibly positive disposition makes it easy to forgive all.

Ruben and Bruno speak very little English. My Italian is usually the more effective way for us to communicate, so that's what we default to. Bruno, at 24, is the younger. He works as a pizza chef in a nearby town and helps out a bit on the farm. He's a joker, easy going, and quick to laugh. He loves it when I stupid things in italian, for example when I say "pulianamo" instead of "puliamo" or "due centro" when I mean to say "due cento". He loves jazz, fishing, and riding the dirt bike. Yesterday Bruno's ragazza, Valentia, and a group of his amici (Alessio, Sasha, Angelo, Laura, and Melissa) came over. We spent the afternoon fishing and picknicking down at their lake. They were tons of fun, and very intruiged by the Californian in their midst.

Ruben is the older at 26. He's the full time farmer. Every time he is with me he is always saying "Va bene?" or "Ti piace?" (It goes well?, You like?). Ruben is a natural mechanic. The grauge is full of his projects. Dirt bikes under operation and tractor guts are strewn everywhere. He's down to earth–laid back in an Italian sort of way. I'll venture to guess Bruno takes after his mother, while Ruben his father. Both of them are very eager to help me learn the language, patient in communication, light hearted, welcoming, and generous.

Other inhabitants of this farm are Stella, the mellow lap dog, and Chris's twin sheepdogs, Numero Uno and Bastoncino. The only way we can tell them apart is that Numero Uno always comes first, and Bastoncino always comes carrying a bastoncino (small stick).

The farm itself is situated on a gradual south facing slope. Their 46 hectares of land curl over the ridge above us and extend to the lake at the base of the hillside. Above the house is a field of lentiche (lentils). Beyond that is woodland. Below is a field of recently seeded ceci (garbanzo beans), and an abandoned house that previously housed their cows and sheep in the winter. Now it is home only to a family of hawks.

Aside from the lentiche and ceci, they have two large vegetable gardens (we will clear ground for a third), and many wild herbs. Chris is quite a botanist. She could easily recite not only the name (Italian and English), but also the uses of just about any plant I pointed out. The vegetables are sold to subscribers in boxes, sort of like a CSA. With the herbs, Chris makes tea, soap, hand salve, and a cream to help induce healing for skin agitation or a wound. She told me "it is very good for your peel" as she gifted me a small container. It is made of herbs collected from around the farm, olive oil, almond oil, and wax. She added, "you could eat it, if you wanted to...". I used the cream on my nose, since I had allergies and had rubbed it raw with tissue. Not only did it help my "peel", but the next morning I woke up pretty much allergy free, and have been so ever since. Va bene!

The farm is in a period of re-growth, so unfortunately there are no animals at the moment.

In front of the house is a hammock under an enormous oak tree with a beautiful panoramic view of the foothills (very green right now) stretching towards the plateau and three not so distant mountain peaks. The tallest still has a bit of snow, and I am told you can hike to the top of it! Allora, I've passed many hours on this hammock with 'Le Miserable'. E bello, mi piace!

Eremo di San Marco

I've spent the last few days in Ascoli Piceno, resting up and preparing for my next farm. While here, I've explored the old town center, the famous Piazza del Poppalo, as well as Piazza Roma, Piazza Arringo, and more. A few days ago, Jes, the architects, and I, hiked up to Eremo di San Marco. I was told we were going to a grotto (a cave). The hike was steep, but through a lush chestnut forest. Sections of the trail looked like they may have been cobblestone long ago. Expecting to see a hole in the rock, I was blown away when we came to a stone stairway spanning a deep gully and leading up the face of a cliff.

I soon found out Eremo di San Marco is not just any cave. This looked more like a scene from 'Lord of the Rings'. The large groto in the face of a cliff had been made into a 13th century Cisterian monastery! The stairway leads up into the two story building, now a ruin. A cliff ledge below has specatcular panoramic views of Ascoli Piecno.

More on Ascoli later. I'm heading up to Cagli today!

Photos are: Eremo di San Marco, the stone stairway, view from the cliff, and the interior of the groto church.

Arrivederci il Circolo

I haven't posted in a while. I've been too busy living! Yesterday was my last day with Anna, Dario and Teseo. This month has flown by! I knew it would, but I think my leaving really snuck up on all of us. We stayed up late friday night, trading music, recomending books and movies, making plans, invitations, exchanging thank-yous, and expressing our dissatisfaction that the month had come to an end. In the morning we took some last minute group photos, and the whole family piled in the car to see me off at the train station. I am going to miss them!

The month hasn't been all blue sky and roses, as farming isn't all harvest and glory. Some of the work was quite hard, the days were long, and I spent and week and a half with some of the worst allergies I've ever experienced. But I'd do it all again! I've learned about organic gardening, raising sheep, making pecorino, ricotta and fresh cheese, pruning olivi, curing olives, making oil– yes, I've learned a lot about farming. I'm even picking up Italian, un po. But to live with Anna and Dario and walk a day in their shoes, has taught me more about myself than I could have foreseen. This is why I'm here!

Anna, Dario and Teseo, thank you!

Storia del il Circolo

Anna and Dario's farm is called il Circolo, meaning "the circle". The name came from their house, which has been refered to as il circolo in Montefiascone since the second world war. When they bought the house, it had been long abandoned. The roof and interior needed to be completely redone. But in the 1940's and 50's, this was a cultural center for the town. No one lived there permanently, but many in need of a temporary home passed through. The living room was used as a town meeting place for various community circles (hence the name). The downstairs bathroom had been a community sewing center, and my room was used for boxing. Yes, like Mohamed Ali, boxing. This was also the home of the very first televison in Montefiascone, which the whole community came to watch.

Dario and Anna bought the house 6 years ago, and restored it themselves. Now, it is beautiful! Below is a photo of the downstairs living space. "ROT" means red in German.

 And just for kicks, here are a few photos of some il Circolo farm inhabitants: the sheep, Tesoro (our constant feline companion in the olive orchard), and Emma the Italian sheep dog.

Setimana Di Pasqua

Jesilyn came to Montefiascone to spend a long Easter weekend with me. We spent wednesday and thursday on holiday at an Agroturismo called Pulicaro. Thursday we explored Aquapendente and went for an afternoon hike in Monte Rufeno, a nearby natural reserve. It was a beautiful hike, through oak and chestnut forest. The forests here are very dense, lush and green. This particular hike had a few creek crossings, some great views of a medieval clifftop town, and several casale ruins. We saw some deer, a viper, and were screamed at by a banshee/wild boar/we have no idea what it was.

After Pulicaro we returned to the farm, worked a few days and spent some time in Montefiascone. Highlights of these days included accidentally stumbling upon an easter parade in the centro historico, and dinner and aperetivo at Dante. The more authentic restaurants here serve your meal in courses; antipasti (appetizer), primi piati (pasta plate), secondi piati (meat), and contorni (vegetables), and dolce (desert) if you still have room. We're working hard over here, so we allowed ourselves to indulge a bit! The photos above are of Jes preparing to dig into aperetivo on Dante's rooftop terrace, and of a crowded street in Mf after the parade.

Jesilyn's blog has a more detailed account of these adventures.

Un pomeriggio a Montefiascone

This weekend I finally got the chance to check out the city center of the town where I am staying, Montefiascone. It is a small town, but it has a very rich history.

As I mentioned earlier, this area was a center of the Etrucian society. There are many caves here that date back well before the Roman Empire. The city itself is thought to have been built on the ruins of an ancient Etrucian temple. The first record of the name "Montefiascone" is from 853. It was a very wealthy medieval city, and a strategically important fortress. The castle hosted many popes on their way to cities north of Rome.

There is a popular local story about a catholic bishop who was traveling to Rome many centuries ago. As the story goes, this bishop sent a servant ahead with instructions to scrawl "Est" (latin for "it is") across the door of inns that had good wine. When the servant came to the inn at Montefiascone, he loved the wine so much that he wrote "Est, Est, Est!" The bishop drank so much of the wine that he died, and is now buried in the crypt of a local church. Today, Est Est Est is a large commercial wine bottler.  Dario concluded "it might have been good once, but now it is crap!"

The city center is built on a hill with a beautiful park at its peak. I spent some time reading in the park, checked out the cathedrals and castle ruins, and got some food a a local cafe.

Photos from top to bottom: 1) The view from the park. 2) Cathedral Santa Margherita. 3) Could this be it!?

Facciamo Formaggio

Every three days Anna makes a wheel of pecorino. It is surprisingly easy to make. The difficult part is aging it. I would try it at home, but I'd need a cave. 

The milk is heated to room temperature and the lactose eating, cheese rendering culture is added. The milk is then brought up to about 98º, since the culture works fastest at body temp. After about 30 minutes, the rennet is added. In another 40 minutes the milk has formed a solidified layer in the pot. The second photo shows Anna, breaking up the solids from the liquid whey.  The solids are then drop into a form and left for a few minutes to drain. The remaining liquid is then boiled, and ricotta "gratis" comes to the top. 

The cheese can be eaten at this point. Anna calls it "fresh cheese". It is very mild and creamy, and delicious with a little salt and olive oil poured over it. We often have it as a topping on salads. Usually she will fill a small form for fresh cheese, along with the large form for the pecorino.

The solids in the large form are then packed, flipped, packed again, and again, and again. It's then left in a dry room for a few days, and finally moved to the cave to age.

I don't know the nuances of aging yet, but I do know the cheese needs to be in a cool, humid place. The cave is perfect for this! Cheese is aged anywhere from a month to 2 years. The longer it ages the firmer, and stronger tasting it is. At first, they have to scrub the wheels to prevent the buildup of mold. After a month or two, the skin is hardened, and mold can no longer permeate it. The mold that forms on pecorino is commonly eaten, but too much of it will ruin the cheese. Dario says its tasty. I'll take his word for it. 

Photos from top to bottom: 1) A salad with fresh cheese topped with oil, slices of pecorino, and ricotta spread on panè. 2) Anna separating the solids from the whey. 3) Cheese solids in the form. 4) After several packings. 5) Wheels of pecorino, aging in the cave.

Viterbo

This morning Dario and I drove to Viterbo, the largest nearby town. He dropped me of at Porta Fiorintine to explore the old city center for a few hours, while he ran some errands. It was a welcome change of scenery and finally a chance to practice my Italian in a sink or swim situation.

The old center of Viterbo is a crooked maze of the narrow cobble-stoned roads. It is exactly how you'd picture Italy, only grungier. But I can't complain. The people where friendly, and every twist and turn revealed unexpected sites, hidden gardens, statues, fountains, and many tempting cafes and restaraunts. With the justifiaction "I should practice my Italian", I let myself be a pig. In two and a half hours I ate gelato, 2 panini, una cafe, and una pasta (pasta = pastry in l`italiano).

In the afternoon I finished double digging the garden. We're setting up the irrigation system tomorrow, and will start to transplant what Anna and Dario have already sprouted in the greenhouse.

Photosw are of Palazzo di Papale, and a street in Viterbo.

È Bello Qui

Photos are of an olive tree that is well over 100 years old, one of the pastures with the sheep on the right, and morning fog in the valley.

Frutti di Lavoriamo

Earlier today Anna and I were joking that we wake up and spend all morning making lunch, and all afternoon making dinner. But it is true! At least, lunch and dinner in a few months. This is a meal Dario and I ate while pruning a few days ago, in the shade of their olivi. The pecorino cheese, olive oil, cured olives, beans and onions are all their own, and the bread is homemade.

Dario explained the process of curing olives to me. It is actually pretty simple. Olives are picked for oil in november, but they leave a few branches full of fruit. By february, the olives are much less bitter, and anything that has been eaten by pests has already dropped. They pick what remains, jar them and add lots of salt. Once salted the olives sweat out their moisture. Every few days they pour out the water, occasionally adding more salt or herbs. After about a month, the olives are very tasty. "Make dirty" with some olive oil and MAMMA MIA e buono!

Photos are of lunch and the orchard.