Tavola, Amici, Cortona

We've been back from Italy over a week now (sob.) There are so many magical moments I want to hang on to, and they're starting to fade, but when I think of the tone of that week, the central theme, it's that table, around which every day started and ended for the 17 of us lucky enough to be at Villa Le Contesse last week.

Our wonderful friend Barb Stewart, in May, did that thing at a fundraiser when you put
your paddle up, and you win.  And because she's married to the equally wonderful Peter Bowe, who embraced it, that raised paddle became a week at the Villa Le Contesse in Cortona, Italy, which sleeps 18, complete with a chef on-site who prepared breakfast and dinner, a cooking class and a wine tasting.  All we had to do was get there.

And get there we did.


Barb and Doug were in the same high school class.
As were three other of last week's attendees, plus two couples from Baltimore and two of Barb's Northwestern roommates, and us spouses/partners.  

What a week!  It all went shockingly well, especially considering the size of the group, and the fact that many of us had never met.  We all got along great, no one was high maintenance, we all rolled with the inevitable challenges, and I think we all felt like we made some genuine new friends and had a wonderful time with old friends in a spectacularly beautiful setting.

For me, being back in Italy for only the second time since my year there in 87/88 was such a wonderful and emotional and satisfying and melancholy and cathartic experience.  The lovely thing about Italy is that it doesn't change, so those old chords were easily struck and in cities like Florence and Rome my feet knew where to take me without thinking about it.

It was heavenly to experience those iconic Italian elements again:

 The art

Bernini's Apollo and Daphne. 

The coffee 

Yum

 The wine  

The breathtaking countryside

Cortona at sunset

view from the villa

The red roofs

Firenze - from atop the Campanile

The cypress trees

ubiquitous and stunningly elegant

And, of course,  the food

Italy just kicks ass.

I was telling my daughter the other night that one thing I really appreciated this time, at this stage in my life, is the Italian lifestyle.  Our villa did not have air conditioning and it was hot, but the solution there is to just shut the shutters through the hottest part of the day.  And that's what Italians do during the heat of the day, both literally and metaphorically.  They close their shutters and their shop and they sit and they eat and they drink and they talk and they might nap:  they live in that moment.   It's inefficient, but man is it a lovely way to live. 

I was also struck this time around by the infusion of beauty in everyday life.  Aesthetics are important to Italians.  I think when you grow up surrounded by art and by beauty it becomes a part of you, something you assimilate without thinking about it.  Even the crappiest street had cool flower boxes and amazing doors.  The women were ALL gorgeous and are so at home in their bodies, no matter the size.  Effortlessly stylish. Effortless beautiful.  Such is Italy.

There were so many highlights:

We biked around Lake Trasimeno as a group ("for me, for you...") and had lunch on the Isla Maggiore.

Four of us girls did a day trip to Assisi (as did another part of the group another day.)  Assisi was gorgeous.  Umbria is so different than Tuscany!  White stone, no red roofs, and every single alley and street was positively dripping with flowers.   And the basilica of St. Francis is so beautiful and so moving, and chock full of amazing frescoes by Giotto.

We tasted wine at the Palazzo Vecchio winery, and ate an incredible, gourmet meal with all local ingredients made by our chef, Sunshine Manitto at his restaurant next door. 

wine tasting and tour in Montepulciano

We spent a day in my beloved Firenze, and took side trips to Orvieto, Montepulciano and  Pienza - all fantastic Italian towns.

There were a few setbacks, of course.  Doug and Heiko both scraped up their rental cars.  I haven't washed my hair sitting in a tub with a hand-held nozzle since I lived on Via Maroncelli in 1988.  The experience hasn't improved.    It was extremely hot, and, in touristy spots, particularly in Florence, it was insanely crowded.  And the concept of space - or lack thereof - took some getting used to again. There is no such thing as personal space in Italy, whether you're driving down an alley, climbing a bell tower, or walking down the street.  It's tight quarters and so very different from the way we view space here, and it can feel a little claustrophobic.

 But who cares?  We had the villa waiting for us at the end of every day,

with Carmela and Aurora cooking for and serving us. 

Each morning, a beautiful breakfast was laid out for us, and each evening we sat around that table and we drank, and we ate, and we talked, and we laughed.  

And man, did we eat well.  Here are a few samples of what they lovingly served us:

We even had a cooking class with Carmela, where we learned to make Panzanella salad and homemade pasta with a pici sauce, and tiramisu. 

We had local wine delivered to the villa every day (ish.)    Barb and Peter asked a group question at dinner each night, which was a wonderful tool for getting to know each other.  (One was, introduce your spouse/partner.  Another was, if you could be someone else for one day or the rest of your life, who would it be?)  We ate and drank like pigs and fishes, but the portions were reasonable and the days were active and the food and wine were so fresh, we never felt like we overdid it.  

It was magical.  

TAVOLA

  

 AMICI

 CORTONA

Close the shutters. Sit and eat. Enjoy your food. Drink some wine. Spend time with your friends.    

 Thank you, Barb & Peter.
When are we going back?
 

Panzanella Salad - a la Carmela

note: panzanella is an Italian bread and tomato summer salad that utilizes day-old (ie stale) bread. It's prepared differently in different regions of the country.  Many areas toast or grill the bread,.  Many regions use vinegar.  Carmela sticks with local olive oil, salt & pepper.  

Take a loaf of stale Italian bread.  Break it into a couple pieces and soak it in water for about 30 seconds to rehydrate it.
Squeeze as much water out of the bread as you can
Break the bread into small pieces and put in a bowl.
Add some incredible olive oil, salt & pepper and let it sit.

Meanwhile, chop up all the fresh vegetables you've just picked from the villa's garden:
about a pint of cherry tomatoes
celery (2-3 stalks)
cucumber - 1 large
1 small shallot, chopped fine
Add a generous  handful of fresh basil, chopped
Toss with some more salt, pepper & olive oil.  Let sit so the flavors can mix. 

 If your ingredients are fresh this salad is an explosion of flavor.