Nourishing and Being Nourished by the Land

On Friday, I worked all day with Andy on the farm. It was great to finally meet the family he has been living with: Anna, who is German, emanates a quality of calm command, while also seeming easy-going with her always-ready smile and laugh; Dario, who is from Napoli (southern Italy), is always ready to make a joke at the expense of Italians of various "categories," or often at the expense of himself; and Teseo, who is only a year and a half, is at the moment entirely obsessed with Andy. They are in their mid-thirties, but seem like they could be even younger. They met on a farm in Italy in an olive orchard, where they were doing something like WWOOF-ing, working for food and lodging.

Their place is full of good vibes, and it felt quite therapeutic to live there for a few days. Their house is so charming and cozy. About two-hundred years old, It was called 'il circolo' (the circle) during the WWII era, and it was used as a community gathering space. The first television in Montefiascone was housed in this building, and the whole town came to there to watch. They remodeled it, and it is absolutely perfect, if you ask me.

Andy's room is adjacent to the kitchen, and it has sliding glass doors. So there isn't much privacy, and Teseo comes in and out of the room as he pleases, but mostly we enjoy his visits. His favorite activities at the moment are playing guitar with Andy (he calls it lala), racing all around the flagstone floor on his plastic car, and saying Andy's name (An-da) approximately every two seconds, apparently even when Andy is gone all day. When I first got there, he was very shy towards me- every time I looked at him, he would look away, giggling shyly. Then he warmed up to me... Andy may have some competition- the second night he gave me his apple when he wouldn't give it to Andy, and he let me beep the horn on his car, which he never lets Andy do. His favorite words are scarpa (shoe) and gamba (leg). In the first two days of my stay, he learned to take off his shoes before coming onto our mattress- he did it on his own without being told beforehand.

The work, gathering and burning the trimmings from olive tree pruning, was surprisingly enjoyable. The orchard is beautiful, and although there are glimpses of the lake valley through the border vegetation, it feels like a little micro-universe, a protected little pocket of serenity. It felt great to work with my body, instead of sitting all jammed up in a classroom, for a change. They are a little late in pruning their trees, and it is a lot of work, because this orchard was left wild for some years before they recently acquired it and began farming it. So, there is extra pruning to do. Andy and I worked on gathering and burning wood all day, from 9am to 6pm, with a short lunch break. We got lucky two other days, because it was raining- we worked one long afternoon and one long morning. Andy has gotten really good at building "carts", using the larger pieces to cradle the smaller trimming, so that he can drag a large load over to the burning spot.

Three teenage cats kept us company- one was especially sweet and eager for attention. We named her Tesoro (treasure) and contemplated plans to take her home with us. But she seems quite happy to live in the orchard, playing and climbing oilve trees with her brothers. They probably don't get much to eat, and they were boldly going after our lunch as we ate. Dario, who clearly has a soft spot for kitties, fed them some ricotta.

Our lunch was ricotta, which we spread over homemade brown sourdough bread, upon which we drizzled oilve oil. We also had a large omelet with chives, which we split amongst ourselves. I couldn't imagine a more satisfying meal. Another day, the homemade brown sourdough bread was accompanied by a wedge of pecorino and greens braised in olive oil and served with their own cured black olives.

For more insight about life on the farm, check out Andy's blog:

http://ao-agicolaitaliana.blogspot.com/

Driving in Italy

For all of you picturing me driving a little manual Fiat Punto around Italy and biting your nails, be afraid, be very afraid. No, actually, I was quite proud of myself- I did rather well, if I do say so myself. Once I got used to the facts that "Italians take their half out of the middle," as Jonathan always says, and tailgating is universal practice, it was actually kind of fun. I sure had to be on my toes though- twisty, windy, narrow roads; steep inclines; the most chaotic, misleading signage I could ever imagine; and crazy speeding Italians made for quite the adventure.

Riserva Naturale di Monte Rufeno

The next day we drove the car to Aquapendente, where I gave Andy a tour, since I had mastered the historic center the day before. We picked up some bread, salame, and cheese for a picnic lunch (photo). Then we drove to one of the trail heads for the Nature Reserve of Mount Rufeno. I have been dying for a nature-fix, and I chose this place after doing some research, since it was so close to Andy's farm. I was pleasantly surprised by how beautiful it was- a lush oak forest littered with abandoned casali (houses). Italians aren't much for hiking, so while the trail was well-marked, it appeared seldom traveled, and we saw no other people the entire day.

But it wasn't all blue sky and roses- the next day I discovered three small ticks attached to my body. I got them off, and am keeping an eye on the bite sites for any signs of irritation, as the worry with ticks is lyme disease. We also saw a viper on the trail, which Andy's hosts have been worried about lately, because one of their sheep was recently bitten in the field and died. So we felt very lucky on that one. And if that wasn't enough, we narrowly missed a run-in with a banshee. Actually, we think it was a wild pig, but it sounded kind of like a dying crow, except it was too throaty sounding to be a bird. We heard it about a third of the way through our 10 kilometer hike, and then again about two-thirds of the way through. After the first time, we were ready and alert for an encounter with a wild pig/banshee- the plan was Andy would pick up a big branch and attack/defend, and I would be ready with the camera. About 10 minutes later we heard something racing down the hill, and it leaped onto and across the trail, no more than 10 feet in front of us. With his ever ready and sharp reflexes, Andy dropped into a karate-like stance, letting out a war cry (to me it sounded like a frightened yelp). It was a deer. The second time, the source of the cry was definitely getting closer to us as we walked. Andy picked up a big branch, ready to defend... luckily we stopped hearing the sound after the trail went into a coniferous wood.

That night we had dinner in Aquapendente at a restaurant called Quintaluna (fifth moon), which was recommended by our agriturismo host. It was simple/traditional, yet elegant. For antipasti, we had fried stuffed cannoli with tomato sauce and oven-melted pecorino cheese with truffle sauce. For primi, we had pici pasta with a ragu sauce. For secondi, we chose lamb (slow cooked and falling off the bone), and baccala (fish, served in a pesto sauce). For contorni (vegetables), we ate roasted veggies (peppers, zucchini, eggplant), and green salad. And of course, red wine and bread. Turned out a bit pricy, but it was the first restaurant meal for both of us, so we felt ok about spoiling ourselves a bit.

Agriturismo Pulicaro

I kicked off my spring break, which started on Wednesday, by staying at an agriturismo in northern Lazio, about 45 minutes away from the farm where Andy is working. I chose it for its proximity to both Andy and a small nature reserve. Sandy, Jonathan, Axel, and I drove together to Orvieto, where I dropped them off at the train station. They headed for Firenze (Fllorence), and I drove to the agriturismo. I was a little nervous to drive the car for the first time (driving in Italy is crazy, more on that later), but I must say, I was quite proud of how I did. I arrived to Pulicaro, the agriturismo, in less than an hour. They grow olive and fruit trees, vegetables, and raise chickens and geese, plus some honey and other things. It was fun to follow the chickens around the property, studying their velociraptor mannerisms as they pecked at the grass and tried to decide whether or not our photography efforts were threatening.

I spent the afternoon in Aquapendente, the nearest town, until it was time to pick up Andy from his farm. I did what has become to feel like the standard routine: check out the cheese, bread, meat, and gelato shops, find the best ones, and then buy some. I always have my food radar on, I usually forget to pay any attention to the churches and other architecture.

After a stressful but adventuresome drive with beautiful glimpses of Lago di Bolsena through the trees (the largest natural lake in Europe, pooled in a volcanic crater), I arrived at Andy's farm, said hello to the family, and we headed back to Pulicaro.

Food

The schedule of the daily market happens to exactly coincide with my work schedule: Monday through Saturday, 8am-1pm. For me, this is very sad, as farmers' markets are my one truest urban passion. This Saturday, however, Axel was sick and couldn't go to school, so I got the opportunity to go. I went the first few days I was here, of course, before we started school, and I've been missing it since. I find this particular market more intimidating than any of the other markets I've been to in Italy, so it is a good fun challenge.

The vendors, who are mostly older folks, are very assertive and insistent that you need to buy this or that from them. I'm still having trouble getting my ears to hear italian well, and it seems particularly difficult with this crowd. So I have to say "non ho capito" (I didn't understand) a lot. Right now, they have mostly leafy green type things, but there are also eggs, cheese, sausages, flowers, and fruit. I get the feeling that these could be people from the surrounding hills coming down with their garden spoils. I've been running up the winding roads that go up into the hills, along which the houses are strung sparsely, and there are large garden plots all along the way. There are also lots of olive trees. All of the veggies I have bought so far have been particularly flavorful and delicious.

It is a rather small little market- most days there are only a small handful of vendors, but on Saturday there are more- maybe 12-15. They all mostly have the same stuff- veggies, some hand-gathered and unwashed (love it) eggs (which have beautiful golden yolks), and sometimes cheese or dried beans or home-cured olives. My favorite is a young woman who sells cheese, sausage, and sometimes veggies, all labeled "BIO," which I'm beginning to think is their version of organic. Her stuff is particularly artisan looking, and delicious. Here is a photo of the Saturday market and another of some of my market loot, including onions, potatoes, broccoli, sausage (cured and uncured), dried olives, and pecorino cheese. Buon appetito!

First Day of School

The first day of school. Well, I know this much so far: the culture and dynamic of the classroom is very different than in the U.S. Yet, the kids are just the same somehow. School started at 8am. It was so strange to see dozens of kids walking to school on a Saturday morning. It takes me a little over 20 minutes to walk to school, and for most of the time, I walked opposite a current of what appeared to be high-schoolers. They could have been high-schoolers anywhere in America.

For the first two hours of school, we had mathematics. After the excitement of our arrival cooled off (a bit), they started in on their work. One by one they went to the front of the room to perform a division problem on the board, while the rest of the kids talked, worked, or more or less did their own thing. Organized chaos. It was a bit of a circus, yet there was a flow to it, an order. The kids pay attention to each other and the teacher, and the play off of one another. But there was a lot going on, and several times I was caught unaware that I was being addressed, because there was so much going on that I couldn't attend to it all.

They are all totally fascinated by Axel, which I expected (blonde hair, blue eyes, from California). They realized quickly that he couldn't understand italian, so they began chattering excitedly at me, asking me questions about him, asking me to tell him things, etc. This while a math lesson was going on. They are absolutely adorably precious. They made such an effort to welcome and help Axel. They got a little competitive, fighting over who got to sit next to him, who got to lend him their colored pencils, who got to be on his team. One would start to tell me something, and before he got more than 5 words into the sentence, another one was there, pushing him to the side, talking over him, saying that he wanted to tell me.

In PE class they played this crazy game called pala prigioniero (prisoner ball), kind of like dodgeball, where the object is to catch the ball, capture and free prisoners. Axel did a great job catching on, and they were all so cool about helping him out. There are only 2 girls in the class, all the rest boys, 13 of them. Axel and I joked that it was just like kickball back in SLO- all the boys arguing over every other play.

Next they had science class. I don't think I am so fond of this teacher (different from math). She was very intense. The kids were assigned to memorize a poem about the pope (yes, you read correctly, this is science class), and one by one they recited. For the kids that hadn't found time to memorize it, she gave a stare that made me shiver. Yikes. She asked me if we were catholic. When I responded, no, she asked what religion we followed, in a tone that made me hesitant to say none. Ooops. I should have said Buddhist. Or pagan. Or Hollywood. Oh well.

Can't wait to see what Monday will bring...

Basta cosi.

The italians are trying to make me fat. I've realized that I need to say "basta cosi" (that's enough, or stop there), at least one handful/spoonful before I actually want them to stop serving out food. I have more broccoli in my fridge than I could eat in a week if I were to eat it at every meal, because after I said, "basta cosi," the market vendor grabbed another handful (larger than any of the preceding handfuls) right after she looked at me, asking "basta?". At dinner with my italian parents, it is the same. "Prendi, prendi," (take, take), they tell me after I've already had seconds of everything. Again, that sneaky additional ultra-large spoonful. The father told me, in so many words, that it is not believable that I actually like the food unless I eat more. So I had to have another spoonful. Mama mia.

On another note, what is it with the italians and litter? Honestly, everywhere there is so much trash. On the college campus! I just don't understand how people can drop trash on the ground and not think twice.

After dinner last night, my mama italiana showed me where to dump my biodegradables. Ascoli must have some kind of municipal composting system, because there are standardized containers for this everywhere. I haven't been able to find more info about it, but it's cool that they are doing something like that. She exclaimed in annoyance at the sight of garbage bags dumped carelessly near the dumpsters (but not in), pronouncing these people "incivili" (uncivilized), and went on to grumble about their ignorance and her inability to understand this behavior. Amen, sister. I just don't get it. In America, she remarked, they are civilized, in Italy, uncivilized. Eh, I responded doubtfully, and we laughed at the mystery of thoughtless people. I suppose every place has its vices.

Photo: The river bank strewn with litter.