I'm writing this post from inside of the restaurant at Ca'Lattis. Piero, Sonia, Carla, Lorenzo, and Sonia's husband (I still have to learn his name) are sitting around one of the beautifully arranged tables playing some sort of card game. From the small bit of Italian I can understand, I believe Piero is having an excellent hand.
As I'll be staying in one place for almost four weeks wherein I'm allowed plenty of time to write, I've decided to address my time on an Italian Agritourismo one aspect at a time. I have so much to write regarding life in the Po Delta, that tackling my posts this way will give me the focus I need to do it a bit of justice.
First aspect to address?
The meals.
As I wrote in my previous post, breakfast is not a meal eaten by traditional Italians. Dinner is a late affair, hence it takes Italians a couple of hours and cup of caffieinated beverage to get going in the morning. A very sleepy-eyed Carla opens up the restaurant at eight thirty. Lesly and I stumble in with our computers (or iPhones...) and notebooks full of Italian verbs and phrases. Carla doesn't ask what we want anymore -- just brings out a tray of fresh-made cappuccinos. After I told the family that I don't tolerate frumento (wheat) very well, Carla has started bringing me a mele (apple) to eat in the morning with my delicious cup of coffee. They are very understanding of my odd American "food for breakfast" habit.
 |
| A typical Italian breakfast |
Lunch. Lunch is always abundant, VERY Italian, heavy, and superb. Lelsy and I meander into the kitchen around twelve thirty every day to see if we can help Laura with any final vegetable chopping/taste testing (Laura is always thrusting tasty morsels of food at us). Carla's parents, sister, and nephew usually eat lunch at the restaurant, so we set the table with enough plates for the whole family plus the two of us. The first course is always pasta. Pasta, pasta, pasta. There's a joke in the family that Piero (the man of the house) will have nothing but spaghetti. "Piero sempre spaghetti. Spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti." Because the family understands that "Aimee, no mange pane", "Aimee, no mange spaghetti", e "Aimee, no mange biscotti", they are considerate enough to give me an extra large helping of salad with fresh pomodorri (tomatoes) from Laura's garden.
 |
| One of the dishes Laura arranged for me as a first course |
The second course is always some sort of meat dish. I've eaten a lot of muscle s, clams, sardines, and various pork products since I've been here. Pork and seafood seem to be the most prevalent meats in both Spain and Italy. Cow and chicken have rarely made it to my dinner plate in either of these countries. In Italy, they have the word "Porchetta," which translates into "suckling pig roasted whole." I love that they have a word for this. I also love that Laura makes her own salami and various sausages. The most incredible thus far has been a salami wrapped in coniglio (rabbit). The rabbit was from the farm and the pig was butchered last winter. The seafood is brought in fresh from local fishermen and most of the vegetables we eat are from Laura's garden. She grows melone (cantaloupe), zucchini (zucchini), melanzana (eggplant), pomodorre (tomato), lattuga (lettuce), and all the herbs that she needs for her daily cooking. She does buy her bread and pasta from the store, but since she doesn't feed me anything with frumento, I just get to enjoy the food grown and harvested right here in the Po Delta.
But back to the second course of the first real meal of the day...
The meat is usually served by itself. In America, we seem to have become more accustomed to mixing our flavors than in other parts of the world. Here, you have a meat dish (seasoned to perfection, of course), a vegetable dish, and a beautiful plate of local cheese (often served with honey). At the dinner table, I've rarely seen the family members mix the three dishes together. The only meat that is mixed with another food group is the delicious combination of cantaloupe and proscuttio. Other than that, each dish is thoroughly enjoyed for its separate, distinct flavor. Wine is served with lunch and dinner, and everyone partakes, even Sonia's ten year old boy, Lorenzo. There is always more than enough food to go around, and since the family knows that I practice yoga in the morning, they always scoop the excess onto my plate, saying, "Mangi! Yoga! Mangi!" I ate so much lunch yesterday that I was too full to eat any dinner. This resulted in me going almost twenty four hours without food, as there is no real breakfast. Lesly tells me that I'll adjust to this style of eating soon enough.
 |
| Cotechino con cren |
Dinner is a very similar sort of affair. There is usually a bit more meat involved, more wine drunk, and bigger chunks of watermelon served for dessert. The salads are very simple, and the dressing makes me miss home -- olive oil, apple cider vinegar, and salt.
After most of us have cleaned our plates and are crying out "Basta, Basta!" (enough, enough!) when Laura tries to scoop the leftovers onto our enormous platters, Piero brings out the grappa. Grappa is an alcoholic drink most prevalent in Northern Italy. It's always produced from pumace (what's leftover from the winemaking process), and then each company or family (it's often made at home) adds their own flavouring. The grappa that Piero makes is flavoured with salvia (sage), and he swears up and down that it keeps the mosquitoes away. I smiled, nodded, and downed my grappa. It was very sweet, smooth, and the sage gave it a sort of outdoorsy, rustic flavor that helped balance out the sweetness. Piero reminds me of the father from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" in that he thinks that grappa can cure all ills. While grappa is a lot tastier than windex, I have my doubts regarding its status as a miraculous panacea.
And the zanzara (mosquitoes) have yet to relent.
Fresh duck eggs are amazing, by the way.
Next time I write, I'll go into a bit of the history of the area of Taglio di Po, the beautiful, FLAT Italian Delta where I'm staying these four weeks.
No comments:
Post a Comment