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Carabé's Double Nutty choices

The competition . . . continued!

Here’s an update on our ongoing challenge to determine which of Vista Magazine’s suggestions for gelati, ice cream in Florence, we consider the best. Our sampling last week included 2. The first one was Carabé. It’s owned by Sicilians, so includes some typical granite, slushes alongside the normal offerings. We opted for gelati. Emerson sampled the fichi, fig and a second flavor, pistachio. I had a half scoop of mandorla, almond and another of nocciola, hazelnut. Of his two flavors, we each preferred the pistachio. Of my two flavors, we agreed that the nocciola was the best. Then on to Gelateria dei Neri.

Welcome to Neri!

We crossed town and found Neri very close to Piazza Santa Croce. The interior was charming, so we felt as though our 15 minute walk had already been rewarded. Em selected ricotta and alongside, prugne, dried plum. I opted for the same ricotta flavor, alongside their signature gelato, Crema di Giotto, which is a blend of coconut with caramel and chopped nuts. Although the caramel and nuts were very light additions, the coconut was tasty enough to carry the flavor. Em thought the ice cream was a bit on the creamy side, but still agreed that of the two gelaterie we sampled, last week’s winner was Neri.

Vestri

So, the 2 that had risen to the top after last week, were Veneta from week one, and Neri. We went into town again on Saturday to check out the final 2 listed in Vista: Vestri and Rivareno, which are on the same street. At Vestri, I wanted to try Vista’s recommendation, chocolate almond. In my hometown of Middletown, Ohio, a store called United Dairy Farmers opened down the street from my house and we bought milk and ice cream there. Well, guess what my favorite flavor was? Right, chocolate almond. So I walked into Vestri with the intention of comparing theirs with my home town favorite. Well, as luck would have it, chocolate almond was NOT one of the daily featured flavors. No. Not available. What?! I was primed for the taste.

Nocciola & Crema Fiorentina

But it was not to be. We had already decided on sharing a single small cup with two spoons because we really didn’t want that much gelato. I know that lots of people could eat a mountain of it, but I’m NOT one of them. So we had half a cup of nocciola and one of their other signature flavors, crema fiorentina, which is an equal blend of vanilla and lemon.  The flavor was reminiscent of a creamsicle from my childhood. Cool, creamy and refreshing on a hot summer day. Yes, it was mighty tasty, but not the chocolate almond I was hoping for.

Rivareno

Then on to Rivareno. At our final stop, we opted for a signature flavor, Leonardo, which is toasted pine nuts for half the cup and a rarity: crema with balsamico, vanilla topped with balsamic vinegar. We had tasted that combination in Modena, home of balsamico and so were no strangers to the delightful combination. The friendly clerk scooped a generous portion into our cup and then drizzled balsamico on top. It looked like a traditional sundae, but it wasn’t. It was good, but the Leonardo flavor was better. Toasting the pine nuts gave them a particularly nutty taste that was really nice. We decided not to declare a winner for the third week.

Rivareno's "balsamico" sundae

We also decided to skip Grom, since it’s just a couple of doors down from our favorite bookstore, The Paperback Exchange, which means that we’ve gotten gelato there more than a few times. Their salted caramel is irresistable, but we wanted to try different gelaterie, so side-stepped Grom this time around.

So here’s what we’ve decided: We can’t disagree with Vista’s listing. We might add a couple more. For example, there’s a small gelateria very near the Ponte Vecchio, called Gelateria delle Carrozze, coaches (as in horse-drawn). They offer a coffee chocolate chip that’s pretty yummy. Sometimes they even have peanut butter flavor, which is unusual and always tasty. Carrozze is a walk-up ice cream bar—no need to go inside. Another good one is in Piazza Cure, called Gelateria Cavini, which is “across the train tracks” on the way up to San Domenico and Fiesole. I enjoyed their cioccolato messicano, Mexican chocolate a couple of years ago and still remember being wowed. Chocolate infused with cinnamon. Quite good.

Neri's classics

We thought it was odd that the perpetual favorite Vivoli was missing from the list, as well as Perche No? and Innocenti (across the Arno). And of course, there are even more. In fact, the real difficulty in gelato comparisons is that it’s all about your own personal preference.

If you love chocolate ice cream, you’ll find many, many chocolates to enjoy. If you love pistachio flavor, look around—pistachio gelato is waiting practically around every corner. My personal favorite is noce, walnut. Well, the walnut harvest season has not yet arrived, so right now, it’s relatively difficult to find. But, I’m sure it’ll be a featured flavor within the next few weeks.

The best part about gelato in Florence is, well . . . you’re in Florence. If you aren’t swept up by the beauty and the wonder of the city, you haven’t looked around. It seems that almost everything tastes better in Italy. As you know, the Italians call their city Firenze. It’s a wonderful name I think because it sounds a bit like frenzy. For sure, my pulse quickens when we go into town. There’s so much to see and do. So much art and passion. And the gelato . . . well that’s just the finishing touch, simply icing on the cake, topping on the sundae.

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

White Roads

We love to explore Italy on the roads less traveled. But sometimes, the back-roads are a bit more than we bargain for.

Let's go to Montalcino!

A few weeks ago we decided to drive to Montalcino in southern Tuscany. We left at about 11 am, with the intention of getting there for lunch, taking  the Si-Fi superstrada, which means that Siena is at one end, and Firenze, Florence is at the other. We had no problem getting to Siena, but then inadvertently took a wrong turn. As the road curved along the south side of Siena the choices were to continue east, or head south. Since Montalcino is south of Siena, the choice seemed obvious. “Seemed” is the operative word.

Now, before I go any further, there’s something you need to know about Italian roads.

Could it be true?

There must have been a jokester on staff when they installed signs on the Italian back-roads, because very often, they point in directions that can’t possibly be right. You’d bet any amount of money that it has to be a mistake because it just feels counter-intuitive. But then somehow, eventually, it usually takes you there. “Eventually” is the operative word here. We’ve turned around because we just didn’t trust the sign—only to find out later that it was right. Then of course, there are times when the signs actually have been wrong. That creates a bit of a dilemma—you have to decide: are the signs right or not?

Famous Brunello di Montalcino

This time, we were clearly on the wrong road as a result of our miscue. Rather than the #2 heading directly toward Montalcino, we were suddenly hurtling toward Rome on the #223! What??! Oh well, we’d just have to cut across to get back on track. But where? Our first try turned out to be a large driveway, and another choice dead-ended at a tiny village. We finally came upon a road through the town called Murlo which looked like it might work. We had to chuckle since we were trying to get to Montalcino, famous for its Brunello wine, yet having to go through “merlot”—a funny turn of events. However, our little bypass didn’t look like a big problem. Just a few short kilometers and we’d be back on track. Right. Wrong!

Not so far?

About half way across the new route, there was a sign pointing to Montalcino. We were faced with that same old problem: is the sign right or not? We decided to go with it. Turns out the sign was technically right, but failed to mention a few details . . . like  the countless twists and turns, or the more importantly, that it soon became an unpaved road. We almost turned back but it looked like a fairly short distance on the map (about half an inch), so we stuck with it.

Classic one lane white road

We drove and drove and drove on what the Italians call a “white road.” Sounds quasi-romantic, right? They’re made of white-ish gravel and light colored dirt—hence the name. Hmmm. A little less romantic. They frequently sport countless potholes, wash-boarding and tricky ruts. Definitely unromantic!

Castiglion del Bosco

But all was not lost, because after about 30 minutes on that dust-choked strada bianca we came upon an amazing sight. There in the middle of nowhere was a golf course! Now in August, Tuscany is mostly amber in color. With valuable water at its lowest level, we all wait for September rains. But there it was, in all of its majestic green-ness, as we motored along between the manicured fairways and immaculate greens with fluttering flags. It felt a bit surreal. There in the middle of the snakey white road and the sun-scorched hills was the 18-hole Castiglion del Bosco Golf Club!

Amused with our find, we continued on our way, thinking that Montalcino must surely be close by, otherwise who would ever find this oasis? As we slowly rounded blind curves, we encountered dust-covered . . . no, make that dust-encrusted black cars. Each one seemed to be going way too fast for the road conditions, but then again, it was around 1 pm. Tuscan lunchtime!

Montalcino

After roughly 45 minutes on the white road, we finally snuck up on Montalcino from the south west. I know, I know, we started out from the north.  We climbed out of the car and looked back over the valley that we had just crossed. It was beautiful (from this new vantage point), and we had finally arrived at our destination unscathed—one of the loveliest little Tuscan hill towns ever. We had a delightful lunch at Grappolo Blu and then headed out of town toward Pienza. Just as we got to the bottom of the hill, there was an ambiguous sign—pointing in the opposite direction from what we thought should be the right way. After our white road detour, we actually pulled to the side of the road to talk it over.

Pienza

Then, throwing caution to the wind we decided to roll with the Italians no matter what, following their sign pointing in the opposite direction. After a delightful hour drive through the countryside on extremely smooth asphalt roads, we arrived in the equally beautiful hilltown of Pienza!

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Vested Interest

Have you ever flown on one of those “discount” airlines? Well we have, and they come complete with some pretty interesting experiences. You could even say that I’ve made some discoveries and few decisions based on those curious first-hand accounts. In fact, I made a recent purchase as a result of what I’ve learned.

First of all, the “discount” price is for the cost of the seat only (which, by the way, does NOT recline). There’s a charge to book online, which seems to be the only way to purchase a ticket. Catch 22?. Of course, no luggage is permitted beyond the carry-on, unless you’re willing to pay an outrageous additional fee.

When we flew with some friends a couple of years ago, none of us wanted to pay for extra luggage, of course, so we each carefully packed a small carry-on suitcase. No problem, right? Well, not for us, but when we weighed their luggage at our house just before leaving, it was slightly over the limit. What to do? Nothing. They concluded that surely the airline would be okay with only a couple of pounds over the limit. Right?

Wrong! When we got to the airport, signs clearly said that the airline would NOT accept ANY overage whatsoever. That presented a bit of a problem, so they got creative. They happened to be wearing vests, so they proceeded to fill every pocket with the heaviest items from their carry-on. A camera here, a GPS device there, the cell phone in that little flap, the travel guide book barely fit, wedged in on top of 10 other things in that side pocket. Perfect. Pretty soon they looked like Weebles. You know,” Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down.” Neither of them could have touched their toes if they had to, because they were so tightly stuffed with gear.

The Vest "map"

I thought to myself . . . those street market vests are just NOT made to handle such a load. So I began my search for a vest that COULD accommodate specific things, yet not look too bulky. I found what looked like the perfect thing. It’s called a Scottevest. It’s named for the company founder, Scott Jordan. Unfortunately, the price reflected the unique design. I was looking for a solution, not a long term in-“vest”-ment. So I shopped around on-line and found that one of my favorite travel-wear sites was offering the same vest at a much lower price. Perfect. I ordered one.

iPod pocket~if only I owned an iPod

When it arrived, I was thoroughly entertained by its cleverness and design details. The female version has 22 pockets—all designed to be streamlined. And, the best part is that the vest is designed for technology—all the stuff you want to keep close anyway. Well, that is, if you have those things. For example, there’s an iPod pocket. I don’t have an iPod. It has a Kindle pocket. I don’t have a Kindle. It has a channel to feed your iPod earphone ear pod cords through so that they come out at the back of your neck—no tangles. But, as I just said, I don’t have an iPod. The vest also has little magnets in the hand pockets, so that you can close them easily and quickly. Why? I don’t know. It’s also equipped with an elastic loop inside one of the many pockets to hold a water bottle upright. Great, just what I needed!

The most curious thing is that large pocket across the back where . . . and I am NOT kidding, you can put your iPad. Not iPod mind you. A tablet computer! An entire iPad. I might not look puffy, but I could appear a little stiff, like I just slipped a stop sign down my collar into the back of my blouse.

The X-ray of contents

Mr. Jordan has a pretty slick website, where he shows everything that HE puts into his vest. There’s even a simulation of an X-ray showing the contents of the pockets. How cool is that? They consider the vest to be the equivalent of another carry-on, without being a carry-on. The idea is that you can simply wear your vest right up to security in any airport, remove it “fully loaded,” and place it in one of those plastic trays for X-ray scanning, and you’re through. Yessireee, pretty stylish AND practical.

Chamois on a bungee

Even though I’ll have to make new pocket assignments to fit my own needs, I’ll undoubtedly be very cool wearing my new storage vest. I can see it now: I’ll pause slightly at security, removing the little bungee-attached chamois cloth which is neatly concealed inside the secret lining seam on the right side; I’ll wipe my sunglasses with a slight air of superiority; then magically slide them into their specially designed hidden pocket beneath the lapel; and then, after the attention-getting activities are finished, I’ll step confidently towards the TSA. Of course, as they always do, the agent (who has been appropriately impressed) will give me the familiar head-nod gesture to remove my vest and place it on the conveyor belt, just as I expected.

Then, I will wait and watch. Watch in amazement as the X-ray technician identifies each and every item. And as I step through the body scanner, I’ll glance at the security agent with a smug, knowing smile. All eyes will be on me, admiring my amazing organizational skills and preparedness. Then, as my vest clears the X-ray machine, the agent will ask, “Is this yours?” “Yes,” I will say, pleased that he had noticed. But rather than an approving smile . . . he will frown.

“Would you mind stepping over here to empty the pockets of your vest? All 22 of them!”

A humorous link: Cheap Flights

Link to Scottevest (You’ve got to see the X-ray and Mr. Jordan’s presentation)

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Roll Out the Barrel

We saw a sign announcing the Sagra del Crostino (Festival of the little piece of toast with goodies on top), in the nearby town of Santa Brigida. That pretty much sums up Italy in the summertime. Everywhere you look there’s a different festival celebrating whatever it is that town is well-known for: funghi, mushrooms; cinghiale, wild boar; tartufi, truffles—you name it, and somewhere there’s a party in honor of that specialty.

Traditions run deep in Tuscany.

Palio di Siena - 2011

The larger the town, the more complex the traditions. Beyond their adoration of food, Italians love to race, whether it’s cars, horses or . . . whatever. The various local competitions have become more important over the centuries, drawing spectators from around the world. In July we told the story of the Palio di Siena—one of the most famous of all Italian horse races, known as the “race of the soul.” Powerful and beautiful!

Montepulciano - Piazza Grande

August, however, took us down another path—to the hill town of Montepulciano in southern Tuscany for the centuries-old horse race through the narrow streets of town. Well, actually, it’s not really a horse race anymore. The horses have long since been swapped out for wine barrels. That’s right. The city finally got fed up “horsing around” with the issues (pardon the pun), of having large animals racing through the center of town, tearing everything up and creating danger for riders and spectators. They decided to update the festivities, making things a bit more civilized and at the same time, do some good old-fashioned marketing for their historic specialty—vino.

The "Finish Door"

Since at least the middle of the 8th century, they’ve been known for their incredible local red wine called Nobile di Montepulciano. And if you’ve never tasted it, then go get some right now, before you read another word. It’s fantastic! So, with plenty of empty wine barrels laying around town, they decided to develop the art of rolling them uphill on a torturous cobblestone route, then downhill, where the barrels pick up speed and need careful corralling to keep them from spinning out of control. The route goes through town to the finish line, which, in this case is the duomo, cathedral—Santa Maria Assunta. Actually rather than a finish line, it’s a “finish door” since they roll to a stop at the entrance. How curious.

Vino Nobile

The Bravío is so much more than a simple race. Think about the symbolism for just a moment: 1) The uphill push becomes analogous to the challenges of life itself; 2) The downhill careening symbolizes the need for care and attention, even when things seem momentarily easier; 3) Teams are organized around neighborhoods, or districts which naturally reinforces the unity of family and friends; 4) The wine barrels signify the ancient art of the region for which they’re well-known throughout the world; 5) The celebration provides the setting to initiate future generations into the ancient traditions since everyone wants to join in the fun; 6) Then, don’t forget the hand-painted original artwork depicting San Giovanni Decollato, the Patron Saint of the city. The colorful banner is paraded out and presented to the winning contrada, neighborhood. 7) And if that’s not enough, the “finish door” is located . . . where else but Piazza Grande. Fantastic! How could anyone outdo that ritual? The Montepulcinese would win hands down in the categories of soulful meaning, participation, unity, life lessons and spirituality alone. Besides that, they really seem to have a good time.

Looking across the expansive valley from a "wedding cake" town

There’s one last thing about this place called Montepulciano that is intriguing—they were extremely inventive people. For any ancient Medieval town, the challenge was always how to create massive walls to protect, and at the same time allow for expansion. In other words—where to put the wall? Well, the hill towns of Tuscany solved the problem—with a very clever solution. Over the centuries, they simply built the original town smack dab on top of the hill with the mandatory surrounding walls. Then, when they outgrew that, they simply built another circular wall further down the hill, and so on. We call it the “wedding cake” model of medieval town planning, since they ended up with 3 tiers that made up their town. The implementation of their creative idea was extremely logical and easy.

Imagine seeing the majestic ancient stone and brick city perched high on the hill. It’s a sight that would cheer anybody up and draw them in to stay. It’s also nice to know there’s a bottle of local Nobile on the table waiting when you arrive.

Following the race, we wandered through the winding streets of town back to our car, amid the camaraderie and laughter. The celebration continued with a roaring fire, food and merriment late into the night.

The celebration continues

Strong traditions are primary reasons why these ancient cities haven’t turned into ghost towns; why families here have a different sense of what “home” means; and why Italians take the “long view” toward life and happiness. Of course, there’s also the annual promise of a sagra, festival every year to celebrate the very things they love so much. But, let’s face it. Time-honored ritual and great food aren’t the only things that make this place so compelling. What about the endless beautiful Tuscan hills, the blue Mediterranean and Adriatic seas close by; and of course the dramatic Italian alps. Ah, Italy! Ah, Tuscany!

Following is our video of the Bravío, taken on that magical day in August as we took one more step closer into the legendary Italian lifestyle.

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Sogni di gelato (ice cream dreams)

Vista magazine

I scoured the racks in Fiesole and found a beautiful local magazine, Vista, with a subtitle, Being Cool and Keeping Cool in Tuscany. Since we’re in the midst of sweltering August heat, my interest was piqued. I thumbed through the issue and found many user-friendly ideas, but the one that whispered to me; okay, called to me; okay, screamed to me, was the article called, Gelato Dreams. Although we don’t eat many sweets, I still consider myself an amateur expert on the subject. One thing I do know about gelato is that it was born in Florence. It’s something of a “hometown honey.” And, I know that Italians pride themselves on the freshest seasonal ingredients.

Here are some interesting factoids about gelato.

1.  Gelato was enjoyed by the Medici of Florence in the mid-1500s, after it had been invented by Bernardo Buontalenti, a Florentine cook.

2.  Gelato is different from ice cream, in that it has less butterfat, some say by half. So, from a fat stand point, gelato is much healthier than ice cream. And as you know, we’re always looking for healthy alternatives.

3.  Gelato is a precise balance between the milk and cream; flavoring, which is typically fruit, or puréed nuts; and sugar. The sugar content must be exact to keep the gelato from freezing solid.

4.  Gelato is denser than ice cream and the flavors are more intense.

How Gelateria Veneta got its start

5.  In the 1920s-30s gelato became widely popular due to the development of the first carrello di gelato, mobile gelato cart.

Gelato Dreams provided many tips about how to spot the real thing. Color is very important! Banana gelato will appear almost white because no artificial coloring has been added. Same is true for nut gelato. Good to know! Beyond the few tips, the article listed seven gelaterie, along with brief descriptions of their specialities.

Classic: Gelateria Veneta

After reading the article, we decided to take on the challenge. With our copy of Vista in hand, we began our own taste comparison. We concluded that we would sample gelato from 2 shops each Friday, eliminating one from the competition each week. By the end of 3-4 weeks, we should have a clear winner—announcing it to the world.

A bounty of flavors

First, we went to Gelateria Veneta on Piazza Beccaria. It’s only a couple of doors down from the Astra, where we go to see movies in English sometimes. But, we’d never gone into Veneta. Just inside the door was the freezer case, lined with the beautiful colors of the gelati. There was lampone, raspberry, limone, lemon, crema, creamy vanilla, buontalenti, a chantilly cream, pinolata, pine nut, along with the usual chocolate, strawberry, and coffee.

Whole pine nuts in the pinolata

Emerson decided on the ever popular crema and I went for the pinolata. Both were fantastic! And beautiful! While we each scooped out little bites from a piccolo coppa, small cup, the friendly clerk was happy to share some details about the store. It’s been a Florentine fixture since 1926, starting out with one of those mobile gelato carts. It’s been in the same family for 85 years. It was perfect. Classic. Exactly what we imagined. Very high marks, but of course no conclusions. Then on to the second gelateria of the day, Carapina.

Ultra modern: Carapina

Carapina has 2 locations in Florence and we selected the one near Piazza Beccaria, because . . . well, it’s near Beccaria. We parked across the street and went inside. It was a complete contrast from Veneta. It was ultra-modern, with lots of stainless steel. Rather than the rectangular open pans where gelato is softly mounded, all the gelato was INSIDE canisters. What?! We couldn’t see a thing!

Slick! Where's the flavor list?

So we read the large listing of flavors. Vista suggested i grandi formaggi, the big cheeses, but we were told that it’s not available until September so we’d have to wait. Tuscans are quite season-bound which is a good thing. Since we’d just eaten 2 small cups of gelato at Veneta, we opted for a slightly larger single cup with 2 flavors and 2 spoons. Emerson selected the vin santo crema, vanilla with a dash of vin santo liqueur and I opted for the arabica coffee flavor. Both were very tasty. The vin santo (wine of the saints) was more “local” and unique, however, the coffee was good, too.

Coffee and Vin Santo ~ perfect ending!

So, we blotted our mouths and climbed back into the car. Today’s winner? Drum roll, please. La Gelateria Veneta! But in all fairness to Carapina, we’ll have to give its sister location a try in September, rounding out the competition to an even number. After all, how could we begin to declare an Italian winner without checking out the “Big Cheese?”

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

A Sign of the Times

This way to the castle

Question: Since when did traffic signs become entertainment? Answer: When the inventive Italians started imagining different possibilities. For example, what’s so funny about a white “T” with a red top that means “no outlet?” Or, how about a curved line indicating a wide swing to the right. Or a straight white arrow pointing the way? You’re probably thinking there’s nothing here to chuckle about, but that’s just not so. After all, we are in the land where an enormous ancient stone castle can be reduced down into a cute little international symbol that everybody understands. For starters, let’s take a closer look at the segnale stradale di nonno, grandaddy of roadsigns.

Careful, careful, careful!

The exclamation point says it all! No matter what the circumstances, it always means the same thing—PAY ATTENTION! SOMETHING IMPORTANT IS GOING ON HERE! The problem could be anything—no white lines, crumbling shoulder, tree in the road, you name it. Keep it simple! Just stick an exclamation point there.  HEY, HEY, WATCH OUT!!  Apparently, they have an entire warehouse (probably in Rome) full of those useful little roadside logos, and they’re authorized to proudly display them as often and for as long as needed. In other words, FOREVER! High water in the winter? Nothing would say that more eloquently than an exclamation point. Slap a simple wavy water sign below and Voila! You’ve been warned. Sure, it’s August now and there’s no hint of rain for months, but why take down the sign? Why ever take down any of the signs? It’s a really inexpensive solution to just about every transportation issue or problem.

Right curve ahead

Signs are so compelling that they’ve actually become interactive. Apparently, a new order of artists with a strange sense of humor are doing their own enhancements. How? When? We don’t know. But we’ve started “collecting” the creatively altered signs by snapping a pic or two as we pass by. Some are sweet, like the right curve sign that’s posted as we drive through Borgunto. Okay, everybody can tell there’s a curve in the road—duh. But wait! Did we see a clever modification to that sign. Slow down for a closer look. Sure enough.

Mr. Top-Hat picking a VERY LARGE flower

Someone has used the shape of the arrow to represent a human body. A circle’s been added for a head and then, believe it or not, a top hat has been placed on the head. Must have come from some formal event. But what’s he doing? Taking a second look, we see that he’s picking a flower. And inside the center of the flower is a tiny heart. What??!! How funny is that? Some well-meaning street artist decided to lighten the driving mood by making this unnecessarily serious sign more whimsical.

Straight Arrow Angel

Then there are the angel signs. Frequently you’ll see those single white arrows on a blue background indicating that you should continue straight ahead. No curves, angles or intersections. No nothing (as Italians might say, never fearing the dreaded double negative). Simple. But upon closer inspection, there’s a white circle “head” added to the arrow, which makes the points of the arrow look like wings. Then, floating above the head is a delicate little halo. Really. This sign seems to be something of a theme, since we’ve seen them in various places in and around the city. They’re always exactly the same, as though some “angel kit” has been distributed to a group of do-gooders to develop this new meta-signage throughout Tuscany.

Guardian Angel

What a sweet idea. Any motorist’s blood pressure would surely drop 20 points, just by gazing upon a straight arrow angel. They’ve become the guardians of the roadways, and believe me, Italian roadways can use all the heavenly intervention they can get. Seeing these signs makes me think of Dan Brown’s novel, Angels and Demons. Angels are on the signs and demons are behind the steering wheels. Just kidding. Italians are among the best drivers in the world. They really are.

Oops! Dead-end

But there’s more. Last week we came upon a somewhat disturbing detour to the airport. No big deal, the route was clearly marked until we took an impromptu shortcut. We imagined that a quick left turn would take us back to the main road, beyond the construction zone. We passed through an intersection and I glanced up to see the familiar white “T” with the red top. Oops! Dead end. The only alternative was to back up to the nearest block where we could turn around.

Did I say cross roads?

As we backed into the main intersection, I looked up at the dead-end sign again and noticed that something was different. I tilted my head, ever so slightly toward the right and recognized the stylized silhouette that had been applied to the sign. It was the unmistakable image of the crucifixion. Baffling. Strange. And disturbing.

Give me the angel sign, or that formal guy picking a flower. Or where is that castle? I’ve come to expect amusement on the road. Driving is serious enough without being jarred by provocative images. If I want heavy, I’ll watch the news. If I want serious, I’ll read the headlines. Driving should be a light-hearted tour through the Tuscan countryside, right? And it often is. That is, until you try to pass an old Fiat Cinquecento that’s straddling the center line on a blind curve, where you encounter an oncoming motorino; a garbage truck parked at a dangerous angle next to the curb; a rusted turquoise ape (a barely roadworthy golf-cart truck) struggling to make it up the hill; and a senior citizen crossing the road, looking down, with his hand outstretched to stop traffic. Then suddenly,  it’s not quite so amusing! Classic, maybe! Just not quite so entertaining.

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Net Worth

A Tuscan window and the view beyond

Ah . . . zanzare, mosquitoes! As you may remember from an earlier post, I AM mosquito food. I saw the chart, and I’m all of their food groups combined into the tastiest, zestiest, most complete form of nutrition possible for the little buzzers. But I will not go gentle into that good night (Nod to Dylan Thomas), and we have absolutely no intention of ever covering beautiful Tuscan windows with screens!

After a visit to the US this summer, I returned with a classic mosquito net. This little contraption is to be suspended over the bed, edges tucked in to secure closure and voila! A guaranteed blissful, stingless night’s sleep. Sound too good to be true? We’ll see.

How strange

Upon arriving back in mosquito-land, I unpackaged the net, which was held within an 8.5 X 11 inch thin plastic bag . . . including the hoop. Uh oh, I thought to myself. How can this be “full size” and big enough to safely enclose 2 people? But I suspended judgment as I slid my finger under the flap. 2 pieces dropped to the floor: a billowing flow of ecru color net and a hoop with a diameter of about 6-8 inches. What? I took up precious packing space to include this cheesy little experimental device in my suitcase? Upon viewing the minimalism of it all, I was beginning to feel a bit foolish and disappointed with my decision. It was then that I caught a glimpse of the two pieces of nearly invisible scotch tape around the hoop. I snipped the first piece of tape and nothing happened. NOTHING! I then snipped the second piece and something quite magical occurred. Suddenly, the hoop sprang from my hand and became the diameter of a small hula hoop. I’m not kidding! Miraculously, the small packable hoop lept to my rescue, becoming the key element that I had banked on to save my skin. With a new diameter of nearly 3 feet, I felt an emerging sense of personal satisfaction and possibility. Hmmm. How EXACTLY does this thing work? I was curious.

Perilous proposition

I climbed onto the bed with my small ladder and stood teetering in the center of the mattress that should never be stood upon—right where the net would hang. My simulation was a bit lacking. With a little encouragement, Em assumed the role of a slightly safer net-height-simulator. He’s 6’5″ so we got a pretty good idea about the distance that the hoop should be suspended above the bed.

Necessary stuff

Next? Well, obviously we’d have to install the cup hook (included in my nifty purchase) somewhere in the vaulted clay tile ceiling, which obviously presented a bit of a challenge. Then I remembered. We had bought lenza, fishing line for some patio furniture repairs, so we had the ideal, invisible, high strength solution for dropping the net to exactly 6’5″ above the bed. I was really pleased with the way things were going.

I found a spare key-ring and tied one end of the nylon line in two square knots which I learned how to do when I was a young girl scout. Okay, I was a Brownie. Em installed the hook into a wood ceiling beam—a slight compromise from dead center. He then looped the key ring over the hook. We tied the other end to the ring on the top of the net and the intricate installation was just about complete.

Our new friend Casper

Perfetto, perfect! The mosquito net hung like Casper the friendly ghost hovering above the bed. We spread out the net and entered the no mosquito zone to conduct a “test run.” Seemed good. Had possibility. We admired our work with unspoken self-congratulations and went about our normal routines. Every so often, we’d casually walk by our installation and smile approvingly.

The finished installation

Around midnight, we climbed into our filmy bedroom tent and slid spare pillows into strategic locations to minimize net marks on our faces in the morning. The ad-hoc technique worked like a charm. We felt like kids, camping in the backyard on a clear summer night. A cool breeze wafted through the open windows, which is the way it should be in a Tuscan farmhouse. There was nothing between us and the great outdoors to restrict our morning ritual of leaning out the window to admire the view and take in our first breath of fresh country air.

Ha ha—foiled again!

At 6 am, I awoke to a familiar buzzzzz. Oh, no! I thought to myself, still dazed from my deep sleep. THEY’RE back. And they’re here for only one reason: to sting me in as many new places as possible. I had momentarily forgotten about our new hanging invention and my heart sank with dread. Then my eyes opened, and immediately I saw the recently installed no-fly-zone. AND a nasty little mosquito! He was clingling to the outside of the net trying desperately to get at me. BUT he couldn’t! He buzzed and circled. He dove and searched. He looked for possible entry points finding nothing. No matter how hard he tried, he could not breach the new security barrier. I smiled at him. Okay, it was more of a smirk. I drifted back to sleep with the sweet “white noise” of a mosquito buzzing a safe distance from my ears—a sound I never imagined I would enjoy so much!

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

The UP Side Lowdown by Cheryl

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Lost in Translation

Ahh, summer concerts in Fiesole

We love concerts. Nothing like watching a live musician fall into a spell. We scour newspapers and the internet looking for something that we’d like to see/hear. We also check out billboards on our regular drives from Monteloro into Firenze. Sometimes we get very lucky. Sometimes we discover someone special, weaving with magic threads. And sometimes we follow those threads. Or a loose string. Or something that seems like a good idea, with potential to be more. So here’s our latest outing.

Irresistible!

On a large billboard as we approached Piazza Cure, we spied the title: Pink Floyd at the Roman Theater in Fiesole. Wow! We’d never been there for a concert, so it sounded intriguing. We stopped by our favorite ticket agency, The Box Office and bought two tickets. Not bad. Only about 27 euro each for left of center, about 10 rows back. Excellent! “Dark Side of the Moon.” We were pleased and a bit giddy with anticipation.

Ready to go!

Then we realized that our friend, Drew, would be with us at that particular time, so the next day, we returned to The Box Office and bought a single ticket. Of course, as “luck” would have it, Drew’s seat was even closer to the stage. Same price, same venue—but single seats become quite the commodity as groups and couples fill in around them.

Small section of the old Roman Theater

We decided to have dinner at Vinandro in Fiesole and then walk down the street to the Theater. Now let me tell you about this theater. It really is a Roman Amphitheater. No kidding. The Etruscans first settled in the Fiesole Hills nearly 3,000 years ago, and then the Romans displaced them and later built the anfiteatro, amphitheater in a complex of buildings. Dotted around the theater, are the remnants of Roman baths. Pretty interesting. Acoustics are typically ideal in amphitheaters and surely the Pink Floyd concert could only be enhanced with this particular venue.

At the Io e Te, You and I concert

In addition to some pretty interesting settings for concerts, here are some facts about Italian spettacoli, shows (performances) around Florence: They are rarely scheduled before 9 pm. When they are scheduled to begin at 9, they typically DO NOT start before 9:30. Then they usually go until about midnight. They are usually packed to capacity. In addition, something almost always goes wrong, with little fanfare about changes that have to take place. Italians are quite willing to “just go with it.” Sound system failure? No problem. We’ve seen distractions that are as entertaining as the smooth performance would have been. Gianna Nannini simply climbed atop her piano and sang her heart out with her hands outstretched over her head when the sound system fell apart on her. She didn’t really care about the system malfunction. Oh well, mistakes happen, but sometimes the thing that goes wrong was planned from the beginning, as was the case with the PF concert. Let me explain.

Weirdest thing ever!

Before the band came out on stage, an Italian man, probably a music critic or journalist, was to present the history of Pink Floyd. Problem? Well, he was dapper enough, no problem there. He was dressed in a white linen suit, complete with a fedora. Why? Well, nobody seemed to know. It was just his “costume.” He moseyed over to a white canvas director’s chair and plopped down. And, here’s an odd bit: an open beach umbrella was sitting right beside him. It was 9:30 at night! Was he trying to emphasize the fact that it was summer? Chi sa, who knows? Then he began READING pages of Pink Floyd history. Really. He was reading to us. Then he paused to pour himself a refreshing beverage, took a sip, and then went back to reading. After about 8 pages or so of single spaced text, the audience became bored as you might expect. So there was moaning. Expressions of impatience. You know . . . that kind of stuff.

Pouting - leaving the stage

The White-Suited Signore stood up looking very awkward. Evidently his feelings had been hurt by this rude audience. So he gathered his pages and walked toward the wings of the stage, dejected, prepared to leave. At that point there was audience remorse, so we began cheering and clapping him back. He seemed to accept this “apology” and sat back down in his chair. And began reading again. We’ve never witnessed anything like that before. Aahh sweet Italia!

Waiting for Prank Floyd

Finally, at about 10 pm, the band came out and began playing “The Dark Side of the Moon,” which is supposed to be an exploration into lunacy. After about 3 songs, Em and I were ready to join the exploration. The acoustics were great in the ancient Theater. I could hear every heavy note, every discordant or edgey riff. As I was about to  fall from my chair into a sad heap, Em leaned over and whispered, “I don’t think this is really Pink Floyd. It’s a cover band—maybe Prank Floyd is more like it.” Sure enough, we had believed it to be the original group, but instead it was an Italian counterpart. They were good, very good. Just not Pink Floyd. Hmmmm. Nowhere in the publicity did they explicitly say that.

The real CS&N

We just bought tickets for Crosby, Stills and Nash for an upcoming performance at the Teatro Verde in Florence. Just wondering, will it be the real CS&N or an Italian facsimile? Perhaps Cugini Stefano e Nico, Cousins Steve and Nick. Still CS&N, right? Surely not. But only time will tell. We’ll keep you posted.

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

The Latest Buzz In Italy

Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, Roman Holiday

When people think of Italy, they often conjure up an image of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. There they were, zipping through the streets of Roma on . . . what else, but a Vespa. One of those classic, sculptural little motorini, motor-scooters that are synonymous with the very word, Italy.

But what is a Vespa, besides a well known brand? What does the word mean anyway? Is there a Mr. Vespa somewhere? No. Vespa actually means wasp. The classic little scooter took its name from the sound that it makes: that of a frantic buzzing wasp.

An Italian Classic

Interesting. Right? Well, if you’ve ever been waiting at the traffic light to enter Piazza Donatello when the red goes to green, you’d swear that you’d just stumbled into a hornet’s nest. The surrounding buzz is thunderous.

Ever had a wasp circle your head? The sound is unmistakable. It’s sort of a medium-low drone—more than a bit menacing, causing me to instinctively duck under cover or clear the path, or maybe I should say the airspace. I typically give a wasp all the clearance it needs, so we can comfortably avoid each other. But lately, I’ve noticed something troubling. Despite my best efforts to evade them, they seem to be getting closer—like into our bedroom—regularly. By regularly, I mean daily. They do a few swooping circles and then disappear. BUT, we can still hear them, even if we can’t see them. Then the sound becomes a little different, sort of like they’re agitated. Maybe more like a muffled dentist’s drill. So, we felt compelled to track them down.

Secret access into a hidden world

It seems that the wall between the sliding doors of the bathroom and closet is hollow, and they’ve discovered the space. So, in they fly, disappearing near the bathroom door and begin that frantic buzzing. It actually sounds like they’re building something. Apartments? A home away from home? Inside our hollow wall.

Last week I slid the closet door closed only to find 4-5 of those dreadful little mud cylinders that indicate wasps have set up housekeeping. In a reflexive swoop, I dashed them to the floor. They were dry, brittle structures that crumbled upon impact. Good, I thought . . . gone. Then, only moments later as I stood in the closet, in flew Ms. Wasp, carry something. What? What do they carry? It looked like the abdominal section from another wasp. Are parts interchangeable? Had I inadvertently happened upon Dr. Frankenvespa at work? And where was she going with that insect part? I casually observed her from a safe distance, pretending to sort my socks. She hovered just above the hangers and then dropped out of sight, right into one of Em’s collared shirts. What? Why? I imagined an already well established wasp colony along his shoulder seam. Quickly, I grabbed the shirt and shook it vigorously. Nothing happened. Nothing came flying out. Where did she go? I searched for a few minutes and then gave up. She had once again mysteriously disappeared without a trace.

Vespa colony in the car door

I shook my head and went on about my day. Hmmm. Where’s my aqua sweater? Oh yeah, I left it in the car. I hummed a little tune as I sashayed to the car where I spied my sweater through the back window. I opened the door. And there, to my surprise, was a cluster of wasp houses—inside the door, along the frame, just beside the black rubber strip. What? How? I couldn’t say. But the bigger question was WHY?

The Creative Italian Spirit

My recent disturbing encounters with the whole buzzing vespa family had somewhat tarnished my romantic notion of those beautiful little motorini, cobblestone streets and Italian fountains. Then this morning, we received an email photo from a friend, taken at a sidewalk cafe in LA. His legs were outstretched, as he casually relaxed at a street-side coffee bar. On his feet? Red Ferragamo loafers which made me smile. And in the background? A classic mint green Vespa scooter!  I was instantly awash with the iconic meaning of the word Vespa and the romantic notions it conveys. Ah, sweet Italia!

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany

Marathon or Sprint?

Ready, Set, Go . . . Slow!

A race is a race, right? Well, not really. We all understand the dramatically different ways a race can be run, and won. For example, let’s take a look at two types of races—the marathon versus the sprint. They’re two completely different ways to accomplish the same thing—which is simply to finish the race. Yet rarely do we conjure up the same image for each. No, we picture the marathoner, slow and steady, well-paced. The sprinter, we imagine wirey, springy—practically leaping forward.

Sprint? Check.

As Americans, we see again and again a conditioned cultural tendency to sprint. We love efficiency. We love accomplishment. The more efficiently we can accomplish something, the more we can do. Right?! We make checklists and mentally tick off everything as it happens. Yard work? Check. Grocery shopping? Check. Gas for the car? Check. Cash at the ATM? Check. Checklist? Check.

Well, Italians don’t share our love for the checklist. They seem to enjoy a more casual long view instead. In most cases, tomorrow is just as good as today. Domani, domani, Tomorrow, tomorrow.  Or maybe la prossima setimana, next week is equally fine, no need to hurry. They seem to have a built-in barometer that gives them a broader perspective that seems to result in a lot less angst. I’ll give you a concrete example.

Planning the perfect route

In a few days, we’re hosting a retreat here in Italy. So our American minds tell us that we have to have everything set ahead of time—organized and ready. Bills need to be paid in advance. We have to test our planned route into Florence. We’ll even time how long it takes to walk between point A and point B. We check hours of operation to be sure that we arrive at a particular destination just as it opens. We try our best to control the many variables, because everything within our control will be perfect—or at least we hope so. Did I mention angst?

In general, it’s fair to say that Italians don’t think this way. They’re more likely to loosely plan. You know, something will probably change, throwing the schedule off, so flexibility is valued a lot more. When we went to pay for things at the hotel and restaurant, we ended up paying 2 weeks later than we thought we would. For the Italians, there was absolutely no hurry. In fact, there was a little confusion as to why we’d even consider paying before the event. Service had yet to be delivered, so why pay beforehand?

Rocket fuel

At a second restaurant, we stopped in to confirm our dinner arrangements. Sure, sure. Everything’s okay. Let me give you something to drink. Lucia poured us a concoction of Galliano, a sweet liqueur from Livorno and something else that may have been some form of rocket fuel. She then placed an orange slice across the glass onto which she sprinkled sugar. Finally she doused that with a 3rd, highly volatile beverage and set it on fire. The sugar crystalized as the flame died out. We were to drink the shot of liqueur and then eat the sugared orange slice. It was actually delightful—powerful, but delightful. Oh, but what about confirming the arrangements? Isn’t that what we came in to do? Sure, sure. Everything’s okay. A kiss on each cheek and we had finished our “business.”

I like the Italian pace of life. For the most part, we live it. Sometimes when something isn’t happening according to plan, one of us will ask the other,  “When did you get here, just yesterday?  And exactly when did Italians adopt your way of thinking? Do you really think today’s going to unfold just as you imagine? Really?” We usually keep this ridiculous line of  questioning going until we’re both laughing and coming back to reality.

Cross-cultural living

But mostly, I like the contrast. I enjoy being an American in Italy. I like realizing that what I think about and how I think has much to do with our culture. Growing up in the Midwest means that I learned Midwestern values. Living in California means that I enjoy the nuances that are uniquely Californian. And being here gives me the opportunity to reflect about how different cultures can be. Yes, we’re different. But in so many ways, we share values and ideals. These are some really important questions to ponder, which I will . . . . . . . . . . . . maybe tomorrow.

Photos mostly from the Internet. Thanks.

You may also enjoy visiting our other websites:

The Journey – The Ride of a Lifetime

Under the Tuscan Thumb Blog by C & E

Uncommon Promise Story, Music and Art

New Music—Virtual CD

Uncommon Promise Video Channel

In Touch in Tuscany