On the agenda for this day was the option to attend a cooking class at La Porta, the location of our first wine tasting dinner. I had done this cooking class the year before with Dana and knew it was going to be another ‘they are going to have to roll you out of there’ type of situation, where after you cooked several courses, you would also be eating the delicious rich meal you had just prepared. In fact, the year before Dana was actually even a little agitated when we left saying ‘I just can’t take it, I can’t eat another bite of rich food for a few days.’ Then she insisted we go on a two-hour walk in the countryside to walk it off. That memory was still fresh in my brain when this option for this cooking class was presented earlier in the week. I had asked Carla if she had a preference. Her preference was to NOT get up early the morning after Thanksgiving to go to a cooking class. With us both in agreement, we gleefully slept in the morning after Thanksgiving and dozed in and out of sleep as we could hear the rain falling.
After we woke up, I did some blogging and then got ready so I could head over to San Gregorio (where the Moricciani family live) to see if I could find Luciano and make an olive oil deal. He had told me the evening that we were drinking grappa together, that he wold make me some more oil and to come by on Friday to pick it up. I had no idea what time that meant, so I thought hmm, around lunch time might be good? So while Carla was getting ready, I made the 7-minute drive over to their farm house to see if I could find Luciano working around the outside. I drove up and it didn’t look like anyone was around. I walked all around the grounds of the house and didn’t see Luciano. At that point I was thinking that I would need to make a more ‘concrete’ plan to get the olive oil from from dealer, Luciano.
This was also the day that all of the guests had to ‘pay up’ for their stay. They don’t take credit cards here so you basically have to ‘stock pile’ money all week in your safe, with daily $250 withdrawals from the cash machine. And then hope and pray you have enough on Friday when Carlo comes for the dough. All week long we all had this on our daily ‘to do’ list – to get our money for the day and add it to our pile. Carla would laugh at me every day as I counted out our pile of money that looked like Monopoly money and did the calculations of how much more we needed. Carlo had said after the truffle hunt today, he would come collect the money from all of us staying at the farm. I watched him do this last year and then understood why he always wears Cargo shorts or pants as they have so many pockets. And when you give him your pile of money, he doesn’t even count it, he just trusts that it is all there and plunges it into one the cargo pockets. I wondered if it would be the same this year.
After I returned, Carla was ready and we both needed to do the cash machine run and get something to eat. It was nearly 1pm and we hadn’t had breakfast. Something I really appreciated about Carla was how go-with-the-flow she was and our eating patterns totally matched. We didn’t necessarily both need breakfast every day and we typically were hungry or not hungry at the same times. We also both got to the place a few times during the week where we were feeling, as Carla said, ‘I feel like if I just had a tomato, that would be enough for today.’
We went into Pienza and had success at the cash machine and walked around with our $500 Euro trying not to look like targets. The cash machine was also perilously close to the lavender shop with that lady that talked our ear off. Every time we walked by, Carla would say, ‘Let’s look straight ahead and walk fast so she doesn’t see us.’ We both had fears of getting pulled back into that vortex of Lavender and not escaping for a long while.
We were hoping for another pizza shop that might be open around now, but were not having any luck finding a pizza shop that decided to open today. It is a marvel to understand that these little shops in town really don’t have a schedule in the off season. They may or may not decide to open for lunch. Carla had remembered a little panini shop that she saw earlier in the week that always seemed open and might be able to make us a sandwich. We passed one shop that looked overly crowded, so we kept walking. She said she remembered it was further up the way.
We stumbled upon it and it was a deli type of place and it was empty inside. I wasn’t even sure it was open. But there was this older woman just reading a paper who perked up when we walked in. We asked her if she would make us a sandwich and she was happy to do so. She removed a netting cover over the ‘meats’ she had to slice for us and asked whether we wanted soft or medium cheese. These choices all seemed so straightforward, what meat? what cheese?..boom, you are done ordering. Carla asked about the bread it would be served on. The lady replied, ‘typical local bread.’ Only she said it in half English- half Italian. I do remember hearing ‘typico’ and ‘local-ee’ or something like that and it seemed good enough for both of us.
There was no place to sit, so we figured we would just take the sandwiches back to the farm and eat at our table in front of a fire. The lady put them in a little to-go paper sack and we paid and walked out with our two little sack lunches. We were excited to try our sandwiches when I spied a gelato place right across the way. I remembered Carla had only had one gelato so far (in Florence) and wanted to try the lemon flavor here in Pienza. I asked her if she wanted her gelato now as we were leaving tomorrow. She was ‘all in’ on that plan.
Once we walked inside the gelato shop, I could see they also served cappuccinos and had tables to sit. I suggested we order coffees and sit and eat our sandwich, then she could enjoy her gelato after we ate. She agreed that was a great idea. So there we sat with our coffees and sandwiches. Both Carla and I could not get over how GOOD the sandwiches were. It was so simple but so good. She mentioned that she often makes salami sandwiches back home for lunch but they never taste this good. And I was thinking that I don’t really eat bread anymore and this was a treat beyond measure to have a sandwich on this fresh bread with incredible cheese and salami. Nothing else required. I also laughed at us – just two simple valley girls – most happy when we are eating pizza or a sandwich. We enjoyed all of the fancy meals of the week – and probably me more than Carla, who is less adventurous with exotic dishes – but when it came down to it, our glee factor both came off the charts with our pizza in front of the fire and now this sandwich.
When we were done, Carla ordered her lemon gelato and it seemed we were nearing the end of the Italy bucket list items we had set out on for Carla when we planned this trip. So far this trip had exceeded both of our expectations on every possible level. At this point, anything else was icing on the cake. It was now about 2:45pm and I remembered the truffle hunt was at 3:30pm so we headed back to the farm.
When we pulled up, all of the parking spaces were mostly taken so I was trying to wedge the car between some trees when I could see Carlo’s head poke into view and he was waiving us in, quickly. It looked like they were all ready and lined up to go on the truffle hunt. I saw everyone outside, the dogs and the hunter in his official camo jacket. I had planned on changing my shoes before heading out, but there was really no time. Carla decided she didn’t want to go out for the 1.5 hour hunt, so I handed her all of our stuff and quickly ran to catch up with the group.
I wasn’t sure what a truffle hunt would be or if this would be a repeat of our 2 hour hike a few days before, but I was game for whatever. I am so glad I didn’t miss this! I learned so much about truffles and how you find them. In a nutshell, these dogs are trained from the time they are puppies to pick up the scent. A trained dog will lead the hunter to the spot where they are sniffing truffle underneath the earth. The dogs will start digging for them and will even eat the delicacy if the hunter doesn’t intervene before the dog digs it up. Click on the video below to see the truffle hunter working with his dogs.
White truffles (the kind we were hunting for) are the most expensive and go for $6k – $10k per pound. Truffles are expensive because it is very hard to farm them. They only like very specific kinds of soil and tree. Because they live inside tree roots, you can’t just plant truffle seeds in a field or something. They also peak in the ground for only about 24 hours, so you have to almost be out there daily, if they are growing on your property – not only to find them, but also to guard against thieves that know you have truffle and try to come in to harvest your truffle. Carlo is on constant watch for truffle thieves who do try to enter the property where they grow and harvest his truffles. It is also important after they are harvested that you sell them to local chefs within a day or so, or they start to wither.
When we left for the hunt, they really didn’t expect that we would find any on this day because it had been raining that morning and the day before which would make the scent harder for the dogs to pick up. The three little dogs were so cute and were running all over around the trees and would start digging when they think they found some. With as many people as we had on the hunt, the hunter said the dogs were a little distracted but he had combined a great skillset in all three dogs, so we should be able to find something. One had a really good sniffer, but was easily distracted. So he would pick up the scent – then run off. Another was a good digger once the scent and location was discovered. And the other one was a good support to the dog with the good sniffer or the good digger. The three dogs together made a great team. Click on the video below to see the dogs digging for the truffle.
And we did actually have GREAT success on this day, by the time we were done, Carlo’s hand was full of truffles. It was also amazing how once the earth was opened up to the location, a huge aroma of truffle hit your nostrils. What a mystery and delicacy the truffle is and it was a great experience to see how it is found and harvested. The dogs were also adorable, I would have loved to take one home. They looked like the perfect size. But – they are made to hunt and dig, they wouldn’t be happy in Orange County in my backyard. Nor would I be happy when I would come home to find my yard dug up everyday.
After the hunt, I went back to the room to gather the money to give to Carlo for payment, I opened our safe for the last time and we counted out the money 2x before I took the wad outside and found Carlo. He just took the cash just like last time, with a smile and said thank you before putting it in one of his cargo pockets. He didn’t count it, he just trusted it was all there. It seemed again so ‘old world’ this method of business. All in cash and with trust. I asked him about olive oil and told him about the deal I made with Luciano. He knew about it and said, ‘Yes, you are coming over for olive oil today right? We made more for you.’ I said, ‘Yes, what time?’ He said, ‘6 o’clock,’ That sounded good to me as it was now around 4:45pm.
Carla and I were going to be attending a ‘pot luck’ final dinner at Teresa and Rick Turner’s location in Castelmuzio. Vicki and the Turners were going to open the door up between their apartments and host everyone on the trip that wanted to come. They said to be hungry as they were cooking and they encouraged all of us that still had food from our ‘Dolce Vita’ stay goods. If you paid extra for the Dolce Vita stay, when you had arrived there was a hearty bounty they had provided for you on your kitchen table and in your fridge. A selection of farm fresh produce, eggs, meats, cheeses, pasta, sauce, bread, fruit, veggies, treats…and on and on. Of course, during the week, you are out eating so much, that it is often hard to get through that food in addition to ‘left overs’ you bring home from the restaurant and always intend to eat, but never get to eating. Fresh on my mind was my rib-eye steak leftovers from Sunday. I still had never had time or appetite for my planned ‘steak and egg’ breakfast.
We decided we would throw together a meat sauce of sorts using the marinara they had given us and the left over sausages. We also had some garlic and onions that we could saute to liven up the dish. Once I poured the sauce in, I could see we would need more. Roy, who had been staying next door, had left for Rome after the truffle hunt, and was flying home from Rome early the next morning. So I told Carla, ‘Go next door and see if Roy used his sauce.’ Being a bachelor, I doubt he had, also, he didn’t have a kitchen in his unit. Carla went next door and came back. Bingo! She came back not only with more sauce but with extra other goodies he had left behind that we could bring to the pot luck.
It was fun working in our little make shift kitchen, that was really a cupboard, equipped with everything you really needed to put our sauce together. It was also nice to look forward to going to this gathering with everyone as our grand finale evening. It was amazing, that we all enjoyed each other so much that we were willing to come together on our own, not planned by the official activities on the farm, but because we genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. It was a good reminder to understand how quickly you could form community, with even one week of intentional time spent together. Back home, we are all so busy for this, even with our closest of friends. As I stirred the sauce, I was again thinking, how do you bring these lessons home and not forget?
Once the sauce was going, I left Carla to let that simmer and make the pasta while I went back to Luciano’s to see if I could secure that elusive olive oil. Once I arrived, I went upstairs to Luciano and Liliana’s door. I knocked and Liliana (who also doesn’t speak a word of English) welcomed me into their house. She was trying to communicate something to me about Luciano and that he would be coming soon and she invited me to sit with her at the table and wait. So I sat. And we looked at each other and tried to communicate some things, but it was challenging as it always is when you don’t speak each other’s language. I was kicking myself for not at least trying to learn some Italian words this year. It’s obvious I will keep coming here, I need to start investing in the language.
After about 15-20 minutes, I could hear rustling in the bedroom and a belt going on pants. It must have been Luciano getting ready to come out. Who knew? Maybe he had been in the shower? Or sleeping? I really didn’t know, but soon he came out in his nice sweater, jeans, and hair all combed. He sat down at the table with his iPad and tried to get the translator working so we could start conversing. By now it is 6:30pm and I’m thinking ‘I need to get back to Carla, and we need to drive 15 minutes to Castelmuzio.’ But, really, I couldn’t rush this process with Luciano and decided just to go with it and be present.
He stood up to go to his special liquor cabinet to pull out more of his custom hooch liquor. I said, ‘Oh no no! I have to drive,’ while making the driving gesture. His wife is also waiving him off as I am saying no. Then he says something to her and she gets up and walks over to the china cabinet to pull out two grappa glasses. She sets them down in front of me and looks at me with that knowing universal look between women, ‘you can’t control him.’ We both smiled, and even giggled a little and I surrendered with an ‘okay.’
Luciano poured me the liquid that looked darker than anything he had served me before, it looked almost black. I tasted it and said, ‘mmmmm.’ It was actually really good. Luciano says, ‘Pruna.’ I’m thinking, oh geez, I hope this isn’t prune juice or prune alcohol. But really, what could I do? So I just finished sipping it with him and took the time to present as a guest in their home, trying to communicate with the iPad, and being warmed by their little fire. By now, 15 more minutes had gone by and I was thinking, Carla was probably wondering where I was and this would be hard to explain when I got back. What could I say, “I got delayed drinking prune juice with Luciano?”
I decided to bring up the oil topic finally and he says (through the translator), ‘How much do you want?’ It kind of felt like how a drug deal goes down in the movies. I thought, ‘I want to actually ship this home, my luggage is full.’ He takes me downstairs to the production area and I point to the liter tins and say ‘I want to ship home 5 liters.’ As that is the minimum they will ship. Then he goes and finds a tiny bottle and puts it in my hand and says, ‘No pay,’ I hug him and say thank you as I know he wants me to fly home with at least something in my hands.
We then go into the store area where he is looking for an order form. I explain to not worry, I have one in my room, I can fill that one out. He agrees. Of course, all of this is done over a translator so it takes time and now I realize I could have just filled out my order form in the room. It is now well after 7pm. He asks if I will be at Cretaiole later for his final visit with grappa. I said we are all going out to Castelmuzio and probably won’t be back until 9 or 10pm. He says, ‘okay.’ I feel a little sad, knowing this is also his last group of tourists for the season and he won’t have anyone to come visit again until March.
I get back to our apartment on the farm around 7:15pm and Carla is all, ‘OMG, where have you been?’ I felt like a wayward husband coming home late. I couldn’t even think about how to explain how it all went down and I was virtually coming home without oil, except for that tiny bottle he placed in my hands as I was leaving. I start laughing and say, ‘OMG, You wouldn’t believe it, how can I help us get out the door?’ As we needed to head over to Castelmuzio right away. She explains she had a little issue with the pasta making when the water boiled over and splashed all over the stove and floor and snuffed out the burners, but she had recovered and figured it all out and the pasta was ready to be added to the sauce.
So we assembled everything, left the pile of dirty pots and pans in the sink, grabbed a loaf of bread and were heading out the door when we heard a knock. We thought it was someone going to the potluck. Nope, it was Luciano. He wanted to come in and visit and make sure we would all be meeting him later. So we put everything in our hands down and invited him in. I said to Carla, ‘You see, this is kind of like what happened to me. You can’t control him or the timing of things.’
So he starts telling us something about the fire place and then a cat jets into our room. I’m all, ‘No, no, I’m allergic, I need the cat out.’ It had run under the bed. Luciano quickly grabs a broom and with one swift movement of the long handle under the bed, the cat is out of the door again. It was impressive, his authority over the cat. With that we tried to explain we had to go and we would see him later. So we walked to the car and he went over to the veranda with his grappa to wait for everyone to return, because that’s what good grandpas do.
We arrived at the gathering already in full swing with dishes galore. Everyone had really gotten creative and it was a wonderful spread with lots of wine flowing. Rick and Teresa had also really made some lovely dishes – a Tuscan soup, southern style sausages, deviled eggs. I was so impressed with the spread and was also eager to try the pasta and ragu dish that Carla and I had labored over earlier in the night.
Around 9:15pm, I stood up and motioned to Carla that we should start to say our goodnights. We hadn’t packed yet (which was going to be interesting, considering the extra luggage from our ‘shopping’ sprees), and then there was the situation with Luciano waiting up for all of us, how could we ignore that and at least not spend a little time with him? Of course, once you start to say your goodnights, it is another 30 minutes before you can leave, so we didn’t get back to Cretaiole until near 10pm.
As we rolled up the driveway in the car, Carla says, ‘Turn the headlights off, I’m serious. We can’t let him see us, we have to pack!’ I try turning the lights off, but it is really pitch black on the road and I say, ‘We can end up in a ditch if I don’t turn the lights back on. It’ll be fine, others got back before us, they will be in there with him.’ So we pull up and walk past and can see, yes, there about 4-6 people in there with him drinking grappa and sitting around the table. That made us feel good that he had company so we proceeded to our room.
We start packing when we hear a knock at the door. I go to open it and find Debbie there, she says, ‘Hey, you two need to join us! It is the LAST night, you can’t miss this! Carla you haven’t had your dance with Luciano yet, he is asking for you.’ Carla said, ‘No, I can’t, I’m already in my sweats, I need to pack.’ Debbie replied, ‘You’re fine, here, wear my leopard scarf, you’ll look dressed up.’ She whipped it on her and I had to agree, she looked dressed up. We really loved Debbie and were tempted away from the business of packing to squeeze in one more experience. I knew it was futile to resist and in the end I was willing to trade some sleep for one more experience with this group and Luciano on the veranda.
So we headed out there and Luciano greeted us with a big smile and put glasses in front of us for grappa. I thought, ‘I am so glad we didn’t miss this.’ He looked so happy. It made me think of my life back home and how I often get so caught up in all that I ‘have to do’ that I miss these opportunities for connection and to be present. So we spent the next 90-minutes or so in there with Luciano and the others that decided to join that night.
Luciano expressed how much it meant to him for us to take time and how sad he would be to not have any new guests to visit until the Spring. He brought out old photos albums including his wedding album where he showed us pictures of him and Liliana on their wedding day. He also said how much he loved Americans and that his first memories as a boy were of the Allies freeing Italy in World War II. He even got teary eyed as he spoke to us. It was very touching. And then as if on cue, he pressed play on the Frank Sinatra music, and Luciano finally got his dance with Carla.
