Open Arms

Wow, today was another wonderful day here in Piemonte. I slept in (until 7:45AM) and didn’t even feel guilty because EVERYONE gets to work late and nobody cares. To make things even better, I got to take a hot shower (because Giacomo e Denise sono en Verona ‘sta settimana, so I don’t have to share the water with anyone). And then during the two hour trek to Grinzane Cavour, the sun was coming up over the (snow-capped) Alps; it was absolutely beautiful–just like in the beginning of The Sound of Music–so I found it appropriate to belt out “Climb Every Mountain” the whole way there.

I thought I would be clever and take a shortcut through a vineyard to make up for the time I’d spent sleeping in–it turns out that wasn’t such a clever idea afterall. It hailed yesterday and rained last night, so the entire vineyard (which happens to be on the side of a steep mountain) was a mudslide. Porca miseria. All I have to say is, thank god there are poles holding up the wires that train the grape vines, or I would have been on my butt sledding down the mountain in mud. As it was, I was absolutely filthy when I got to the top, and the amount of time saved by taking the short cut was spent cleaning the mud off my pants, socks, and shoes. Another well-learned lesson…

At work today I chopped up a whole bunch of rabbit livers for ragu (rabbit livers are preferable to chicken livers because of their quality and flavor, but they’re much more expensive). I also learned how to make ravioli from scratch, cleaned a whole bunch of mache (lettuce of choice in this area), and tasted the local cheese and wine we served to the Truffle Association for lunch.

Speaking of truffles, did I tell you I met my first truffle dog yesterday? Carmela, Giuseppe, and Beatrice invited me over for pizza last night and afterwards I got the grand tour of their house and farm–including a formal introduction to Bobby (pron. Boe-bee), their truffle dog. After meeting these people’s dogs, I can honestly say that Minnie Mae would not survive here. Italian dogs, at least the ones I’ve met so far, are wiry and viscious. (Though I suppose if they bring in thousands of euros’ worth of fungus every year perhaps they’re worth it). But there are two things that the Piemontese don’t do: they don’t tell their dogs to stop barking, and they certainly don’t cuddle up with them at night. These dogs are domesticated in the sense that they live close to people, but that’s as far as the domestication goes; they’re still very much wild animals.

It cracks me up how openly curious the Piemontese are. If they see you coming down the street, they’ll walk right out into the middle of the road and stare at you until they’ve figured out who you are. I was doing a little pulizzia (–sp?; cleaning) when I noticed Gigi my friend and our furniture maker pull up in the piazza. They went into the circolo and a few minutes later Gigi came out to smoke a cigarette. But the way he was smoking it was so typical of these people. Instead of standing outside the circolo door, he walked right into the center of the piazza so he could see exactly was was going on in Sinio. Our castello is right on the piazza, so I could hardly not notice him standing there. I stuck my head out the window and yelled a friendly “Ciao!” and they invited me to join them for dinner at the circolo (I know, “Dinner at the circolo again!?” you’re thinking. I’m telling you, the circolo is The (and the only) place to be and to be seen). I acceptend and 12 of us had a lovely dinner together–accompanied by lots of homemade wine and, of course, followed by the obligatory limoncello and caffe.

Bea (5) taught me two dances after our dinner. One of them involved lots of hip circling and military salutes and the other vaguely resembled Riverdance. Unfortunately (for my pride), she insisted that I learn in front of the entire circolo (which, at that point, was busting at the seams with 80 year olds playing cards and drinking strange digestivos). I have a feeling my reputation will never be the same again…