Elliott spent over an hour (maybe two?) scrubbing all the pigeon poop off our balcony the other day. As a reward, we got to enjoy the sunrise outside on Monday morning. Thank you, thank you, sweet hubby o’ mine.
As we sat there sipping our coffee and enjoying our baby we heard cowbells. A herd of mama cows, baby cows, and even a daddy cow or two came ambling through the pastures below our house.
Great way to start the week!
In Italy, I’ve learned, an increasingly popular way to take in the countryside and delicious food simultaneously is to dine at an agriturismo. Yesterday, our good friends Josh and Becca invited us to join them for lunch at one nearby called Borgo Antico. We left the base and drove for about 45 minutes along a modern two-lane highway. A fertile valley stretched out on either side of the road, filled with grazing sheep and country villas. On the rocky hillsides, abandoned castles surveyed this brave new world resignedly and little towns bustled with Christmas preparations and live nativity plays.
I guess I expected something more rustic of an agriturismo… perhaps because of the word “agriculture” in the name? Certainly I was not prepared for an entrance with a modern power-operated gate within thick stone walls or the lush groves of citrus fruit along the lengthy driveway. We parked behind a sprawling villa and walked into the dining room. Tables were set with gleaming glassware and red-checked tablecloths and across the flagstone floor a cheerful fire crackled in a large fireplace.
After the rest of the lunch patrons arrived around 1:30pm, we all were seated and the food began rolling out. And oh! such food! We started with crusty white bread and extra virgin olive oil (pressed on the property from their olive groves), and then slices of cheese spread with marmalade over cured meats, roasted artichokes, cheese quiches, sun-dried tomatoes, hard Sicilian cheese cubed and dressed in olive oil and spring onions, spicy marinated olives, eggplant parmigiana, and more that I’m forgetting. We told ourselves to slow down… but I couldn’t get enough of all the cheeses.
After awhile the appetizers stopped and we took a few moments to sip wine from one of the several decanters on our table. This vino da tavola is a Sicilian staple and goes so well with the food. I don’t know if they water the wine down or what, but it is very light and refreshing, and not at all heavy or stupor-ifying… which is not what you need in the middle of a 3-hour lunch anyway.
(Also, this is affordable like America doesn’t know. A bottle of vino da tavola in our local shop costs about 3 euros for half a gallon. Elliott and I just had some with our dinner tonight of local roasted rabbit, potatoes, and zucchini.)
Next came two pasta dishes: one with thick, chewy noodles (not hollow and very made-by-hand) and another winter pasta offering with beans and short thin noodles.
And then the meat dish: one beef dish and one roasted-chicken-and-potatoes platter.
And then the insalata course, or salad. I love the fresh salads here: a few types of lettuce tossed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. And that’s it. No Ranch dressing, no Bacon Bits, no shredded carrots, no plum tomatoes, no apples, no croutons. So simple.
And finally the dolci course… the sweets. Always a hit for Becca. They served miniature cannoli, citrus gelatin, and mandarin oranges from their groves.
“Leave the gun, take the cannoli.” And I did. These two cannoli were left over and I took ’em home with me. And ate them as soon as we walked in the door.
Lena and I went to town on their sweet mandarin oranges. They sell them by the crate along the road near our house. A crate for 3 euros. Yes, please.
After we were finished, we walked out into the orange grove below the villa to play hide and seek with our friends’ kids and take some pictures. In retrospect, I felt deliciously full but not overstuffed after that meal, which is what I’ve heard about Italian cuisine. Now I just need to learn to cook like a Sicilian!
In Italy, I’ve learned, an increasingly popular way to take in the countryside and delicious food simultaneously is to dine at an agriturismo. Yesterday, our good friends Josh and Becca invited us to join them for lunch at one nearby called Borgo Antico. We left the base and drove for about 45 minutes along a modern two-lane highway. A fertile valley stretched out on either side of the road, filled with grazing sheep and country villas. On the rocky hillsides, abandoned castles surveyed this brave new world resignedly and little towns bustled with Christmas preparations and live nativity plays.
I guess I expected something more rustic of an agriturismo… perhaps because of the word “agriculture” in the name? Certainly I was not prepared for an entrance with a modern power-operated gate within thick stone walls or the lush groves of citrus fruit along the lengthy driveway. We parked behind a sprawling villa and walked into the dining room. Tables were set with gleaming glassware and red-checked tablecloths and across the flagstone floor a cheerful fire crackled in a large fireplace.
After the rest of the lunch patrons arrived around 1:30pm, we all were seated and the food began rolling out. And oh! such food! We started with crusty white bread and extra virgin olive oil (pressed on the property from their olive groves), and then slices of cheese spread with marmalade over cured meats, roasted artichokes, cheese quiches, sun-dried tomatoes, hard Sicilian cheese cubed and dressed in olive oil and spring onions, spicy marinated olives, eggplant parmigiana, and more that I’m forgetting. We told ourselves to slow down… but I couldn’t get enough of all the cheeses.
After awhile the appetizers stopped and we took a few moments to sip wine from one of the several decanters on our table. This vino da tavola is a Sicilian staple and goes so well with the food. I don’t know if they water the wine down or what, but it is very light and refreshing, and not at all heavy or stupor-ifying… which is not what you need in the middle of a 3-hour lunch anyway.
(Also, this is affordable like America doesn’t know. A bottle of vino da tavola in our local shop costs about 3 euros for half a gallon. Elliott and I just had some with our dinner tonight of local roasted rabbit, potatoes, and zucchini.)
Next came two pasta dishes: one with thick, chewy noodles (not hollow and very made-by-hand) and another winter pasta offering with beans and short thin noodles.
And then the meat dish: one beef dish and one roasted-chicken-and-potatoes platter.
And then the insalata course, or salad. I love the fresh salads here: a few types of lettuce tossed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar. And that’s it. No Ranch dressing, no Bacon Bits, no shredded carrots, no plum tomatoes, no apples, no croutons. So simple.
And finally the dolci course… the sweets. Always a hit for Becca. They served miniature cannoli, citrus gelatin, and mandarin oranges from their groves.
“Leave the gun, take the cannoli.” And I did. These two cannoli were left over and I took ’em home with me. And ate them as soon as we walked in the door.
Lena and I went to town on their sweet mandarin oranges. They sell them by the crate along the road near our house. A crate for 3 euros. Yes, please.
After we were finished, we walked out into the orange grove below the villa to play hide and seek with our friends’ kids and take some pictures. In retrospect, I felt deliciously full but not overstuffed after that meal, which is what I’ve heard about Italian cuisine. Now I just need to learn to cook like a Sicilian!
Well, still no internet in our house. Maybe tomorrow? Eventually I’d like to turn this blog back into more of a steady conversation instead of the sporadic one-sided posts that I’ve come up with in haste recently. Until then, here are some more photos… and these are fresh from this morning!
I realized today, as Lena began murmuring in the room next door around 6:30am, that up until this point in my life I have been a big sunset person. Elliott and I loved sunsets from our little studio on Capitol Hill; we took tons of pictures of the sun setting behind the Capitol Dome in the months after we were married. We went on long walks at sunset and watched the colors change from the National Mall.
Now, however, two things have happened. 1) Our windows face east, not west, and 2) Lena gets up with the sunrise. This morning, when she awoke as dawn broke over the hills, Elliott jumped up to get her and brought her to our bed for some snuggles. At that point we both turned our attention to the windows and the rising sun. So beautiful coming up from the Mediterranean! Elliott took a few pictures as it crested the hills.
The aforementioned snuggles that happened as the photographer was hard at work:
A lovely view of Mt Etna from our kitchen window:
After awhile, Elliott said sheepishly, “I kinda feel like… going on a walk.”
[Note: For those who do not know Elliott personally, Elliott pretty much always feels like going on a walk.]
I was definitely game this morning, though. It was only 7:30 and the morning light was calling us! We threw on some pretty random clothes (including a hat I knit for Lena when I was 9 months pregnant and totally forgot about until now) and started off down into the valley.
A path winds down the hills.
This is a view of our town from below. Our house is the yellow one on the farthest right side of the cliff, just on the other side of the castle tower.
Elliott right about then: Remember when you wanted to live in Italy, Becca? And now there’s our home, built into a 1,000-year-old city wall in a little Sicilian town! Can you imagine townspeople in medieval garb, watching you as you approach, judging when you were close enough for their arrows?
Wowzers.
We reached the stream (“a river runs through it”… kinda?) in the center of the valley.
Daddy has a couple girls who love going on walks in the early morning.
We turned around to hike back up the hill toward our house. This is a view of the old city wall from the old stone stairs that lead from the valley to the town.
And now we’re almost back home! Here’s a view of our house, the hills, and a bit of the Med.
And if I turned 180 degrees, this is the view behind me. Hello, old Norman castle tower.
And all the way home. Time for naps and second breakfasts!
Well, still no internet in our house. Maybe tomorrow? Eventually I’d like to turn this blog back into more of a steady conversation instead of the sporadic one-sided posts that I’ve come up with in haste recently. Until then, here are some more photos… and these are fresh from this morning!
I realized today, as Lena began murmuring in the room next door around 6:30am, that up until this point in my life I have been a big sunset person. Elliott and I loved sunsets from our little studio on Capitol Hill; we took tons of pictures of the sun setting behind the Capitol Dome in the months after we were married. We went on long walks at sunset and watched the colors change from the National Mall.
Now, however, two things have happened. 1) Our windows face east, not west, and 2) Lena gets up with the sunrise. This morning, when she awoke as dawn broke over the hills, Elliott jumped up to get her and brought her to our bed for some snuggles. At that point we both turned our attention to the windows and the rising sun. So beautiful coming up from the Mediterranean! Elliott took a few pictures as it crested the hills.
The aforementioned snuggles that happened as the photographer was hard at work:
A lovely view of Mt Etna from our kitchen window:
After awhile, Elliott said sheepishly, “I kinda feel like… going on a walk.”
[Note: For those who do not know Elliott personally, Elliott pretty much always feels like going on a walk.]
I was definitely game this morning, though. It was only 7:30 and the morning light was calling us! We threw on some pretty random clothes (including a hat I knit for Lena when I was 9 months pregnant and totally forgot about until now) and started off down into the valley.
A path winds down the hills.
This is a view of our town from below. Our house is the yellow one on the farthest right side of the cliff, just on the other side of the castle tower.
Elliott right about then: Remember when you wanted to live in Italy, Becca? And now there’s our home, built into a 1,000-year-old city wall in a little Sicilian town! Can you imagine townspeople in medieval garb, watching you as you approach, judging when you were close enough for their arrows?
Wowzers.
We reached the stream (“a river runs through it”… kinda?) in the center of the valley.
Daddy has a couple girls who love going on walks in the early morning.
We turned around to hike back up the hill toward our house. This is a view of the old city wall from the old stone stairs that lead from the valley to the town.
And now we’re almost back home! Here’s a view of our house, the hills, and a bit of the Med.
And if I turned 180 degrees, this is the view behind me. Hello, old Norman castle tower.
And all the way home. Time for naps and second breakfasts!
