Category: Food & Wine

FAILURE TO LANCIA . . .

or . . .

HOW RENTING A CAR IN ITALY TAUGHT ME TO SOLVE PROBLEMS. With my billfold.

at the lancia grill, panicale, umbriaPANICALE, Umbria, Italy – It’s a Saturday. And a civilized, but somewhat early departure. We’re spending the day with Paul and Betty. He’s an Italian wine importer back in the States. They had just blown in from Rome for two intense weeks of wining and dining their way across Italy. And on this particular day we had our tourist plates heaping full. So, chop, chop, let’s go.

We jumped in and fired up the renta-Lancia and . . . WHAT’S THAT NOISE? Better yet, what’s that eerie silence? Key goes in here, turns to the right. Still. Way too quiet. Especially in Lancia Central. No door lights, no seat belt warning ding, ding dings, no radio hum. No, nothing.

Maybe it’s jet lag but Paul’s as baffled as I am. And he has two Prima Donna Lancias he drives daily in Maine. But yet, he throws up his hands at the utter lack of logic here. Did I mention that this car is literally brand new? Exactly zero miles on it when he picked it up in Rome. Zero. Picked it up, turned it on, drove it here non-stop and parked it.

So. There we were. Standing in the shadow of the tower of the contessa’s palazzo, kicking pieces of gravel around the parking lot. And recalculating our finely tuned plans for the day. And thinking of the tone of voice we hope Paul can take with the rental company when he gets them on the phone. About that time, our neighbor Bruno drives by in his 30-year-old, used-to-be red, Fiat Panda. I wave my hi-how’s-it-going, garden-variety wave. I really couldn’t do the omg-save-us! wave. He fixed our howling mad, guest potty two days ago. Gratis. And well, I just couldn’t seem this needy, this soon. Which worked out fine. He waved and kept going, anyway.

There is a God. And he’s got his avenging angel Bruno backing up the one-way street toward us. “Che succede ragazzi?” What’s happening? Where are we off to? Since you ask: We’re headed nowhere, Bruno. Not with this rig. “Open the hood” he says. Ok, I guess we could have gone that far, maybe. He points at the battery, gives us a “What on earth did you do THAT for?” look, rolls his eyes and said “AntiFurto.” Which becomes our new fun Word of the Day and means anti-theft device. And it is what Bruno is calling that iPad sized thing hanging off to one side of the battery, just bristling with important-looking wires. Yes, I was gently nudged out of Iowa State’s Mechanical Engineering program at a young age. It is clear even to me that the idea spot for this AntiFurto to be would on the top of the battery.

gmb pensive Midge castiglione del LagoSo, why was it laying down there in the first place? How did that happen? Which is exactly what Bruno still wants to know as he picks it up, mounts it back on the battery, and cranks its big lever, locking it back in place. He makes that international hand motion sign for “Uh, turn the key?” We do that and it is all systems go. Thanks, Bruno. He shook his head, gave us a sympathetic “good luck” wave over one shoulder and he was gone. Before we can think of some other trouble for him.

And we were left thinking: surely we could have been so much more manly and guy-like if we’d just had coffee first? Yeah, that’s it. So off we go to GMB (in the zona industriale, Castiglione del Lago) to solve that problem. Which, if you haven’t been there, trust me, GMB is sufficient grounds for getting on a plane and curling up with that inflight magazine for a few hours. For me, it is the sweet, pastry-filled center of the known coffee-drinking world.

Happily our truculent Lancia actually got us there. Coffee’d up, there remained the one true test, can it get us back? As it turns out, no, actually. To be fair, it did start when we asked it to. And we were soon barreling up, up the twist-y turn-y hill road past Villa Le Mura when Paul swears he heard a little mechanical “THOCK.” Motivation ceased, our theater went dark. Which was an awkward moment since, as I implied, we going UP hill. Did our AntiFurto fall off again? Is there some sort of fighter jet ejection seat devise that blows this big honking device physically off the top of the battery at road speed?

antifurto italian for anti theftHmm. Did you know they have dayglow roadworker vests in the side pockets of these cars for just this kind of event? We figured that out well after I’d guided Paul backwards down a hill, into a farm driveway totally commando, sans light up vest. Next time, we will use the vest, I think pessimistically.

Safely off the road and parked in the tall grass, we now know enough to pop the hood and sure enough, the rascally Anti-Fur Toe has jumped ship, again. We do what Bruno did, again. It starts, again, and we were soon on the phone telling the rental company to park this one where the sun don’t – oh just get us another one. Please.

havinga-gas-with-lanciaThey were happy to trade us it turns out. But only if we would take life and limb in hand and drag this bad dog to Arezzo. Arezzo?! I’ve been as lost as I ever want to be in Arezzo. It’s an actual town. It may even be a city. I remember well trying to worm my way thru Arezzo to their monthly antique fair a year ago. So, I was tepid about adding this side jaunt to a program that had already taken on shades of Amazing Race reality TV show.

We got there. But only due to Paul being able to drive and coordinate with his smartphone’s nav system at the same time. The system worked. We arrived at the car rental office. We had just talked to them and now the office was securely locked? When we found the operator, and did the key swap, he said, pointing, that our car was “down by the city park.” And yes, yes it was. Right under the Circus Coming to Town billboard was the twin of the Lancia we rode in on. Same color, same model. But yet. We have ignition! The key turns AND the motor turned on.

But, so did the annoying Danger Orange light on the dash shaped like Aladdin’s Lamp. We realized this about half way back across Arezzo, headed out of town. Something new to not relax about. OK, page 22 of the manual, something about that being the Must-Change-Oil-Right-Now light. Oh, good, pop the hood. Well, it’s got oil. Full as a tick, in fact. And you know what? We are so not stopping to change the oil on this back-up rental beater.

Later that same day, by then more closely approximating midnight, we were coming back from a seven course feast at a friend’s osteria in Siena, when Paul said, “Huh, look at that. No more warning light!” To which I was able to proudly reply, “I know. I fixed it” “Where was I?” Paul said unbelieving. “How’d you do that?”

“I fixed it with my billfold,” I replied. He gives me a look. Then looks back at the dash where he notices my billfold propped up in front of the light.”

Another travel problem solved. You’re welcome.

See you in Italy!

Stew Vreeland
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PS: As you can see we did stop to smell the poppies in the midst of all these adventures. Worth whatever it takes to get to that sweet spot, isn’t it?

Trieste. Non E’ Triste.

TRIESTE, Italy – First thing to remember is that this city is way over to Italy’s right hand side. Far as you can go. And then keep going. Through a complicated political history, Trieste use to be Austrian and is totally surrounded by Slovenia. Not Slovakia. Slo. Venia. Hit Venice and keep going north for a minute and then bend around and start going to the South. The part of Italy called Istria. A few miles out of Trieste you can be in Slovenia and Croatia.
trieste
We got off the main road at Sistiana and headed south along the shore road to Miramar Castle. Long a dream destination of ours. As soon as you get off, hold onto the wheel, the views will knock you out. There are pull overs every few feet and rightly so. Adriatic here is just stupendous. And Miramar is a fairly tale castle hanging over the Adriatic. It was a worthy goal. And easy, easy to get to. Could not recommend it more.

Same with Trieste. After seeing the castle, drove the couple of miles to the city. Sunbathers sunning on the rocks the entire way. Its not a beach, but water and sun par excellance. Drove our rental car right into the center of town like we’d been doing it all our lives. Just keep the sea on your right. Oh, look, there’s the hotel, Grand Duchi d’Aostia. Parked the car in their half hour zone, told the lady at the desk to have someone make it go away and they did. She said we can have it back anytime you want. But we didn’t want to see it till we were going to leave. And after seeing the hotel and the town for a few minutes, we knew we didn’t want to leave at all!

seafood lasagna, trieste, italyThe Piazza Unita’ d’Italia is grand and perfect in everyway, every time of day. Huge and right on the water. Very dramatic. Roman ruins? Checked them off a block from the hotel. Gelati and coffee? How much can you take? Seafood? Holy cats. Have you ever had swordfish lasagna? I thought I was going to levitate right out of my chair and ascend into the multicolored sunset straight into heaven.

People are nice, everything downtown is comfortable and clean, clean, clean, every building sparkling and no scaffold and nets, just maintained to death.

Love their dogs here, maintain them too. I saw exotic kinds of dogs I’ve rarely ever seen, borzi, and poodles and I can so remember one massive mastiff literally prancing by, his gorgeous, loose-fitting, steel-colored skin draped like a scarf around his neck and bouncing along in rhythm with him. Painting of three black labs over our bed in our room. We rode in the elevator with a spectacular cinnamon colored chow and his British owner and saw them every morning taking the sunshine and breakfast outside the hotel.
And the Smart car we saw on the street looking smart in triple black right inside and out, right down to its wheels. For pet funeral accessories. Really. Do they have services at churches? I’m sure they would if they could.

And because this is Italy, you think “surely they are Catholic?” Not so much. Yes, they have that flavor of religion and San Giusto on top of the city attests to that in a big way. But. Half the churches we saw, upon close inspection turn out to be Greek Orthodox. Che sorpressa. Ever wonder what one looks like in person? We peeked in the one between our hotel and the Grand Canal. And rocked right back on our heels. Looked at each other in amazement. And we’ve been in some churches. Nothing ever like this. Were they expecting us? Or the Greek Pope or what? Middle of the day, huge candelabras all lit, windows and floors polished to a fine shimmer. Was the whole thing an apparition? No need for any signs saying to keep our voices down. We were speechless.grand canal church, trieste, italy

This has to be a new highlight. Constant source of amazement here. Even for an Italy we’ve known for years. Always something new around every corner. It is seven hours by car from Panicale, but easy Autostrada hours. And on a Cielo Terso blue sky day? Va le la pena! Two delightful hours east and south of Venice. And you know you can’t just wheel in to the middle of that one and park by your hotel.

More Trieste photos in our instagram gallery

See you in Italy

Stew Vreeland

Italian expression that’s easy to say. Hard to do.

Fair warning, “Chi manga pocco, dorma bene” is an Italian expression. But it really isn’t really a good holiday expression. And with good reason. The expression itself makes infinite sense, because it means “he who eats in moderation, sleeps well.” Who can argue with that logic? But who can remember the expression or the logic behind it when friends and neighbors are so busy spreading good cheer, chocolates, cookies and eggnog?

Which reminds me, eggnog is quite evidently NOT of Italian origin. You know how some English-speaking people (OK, OK . . . Americans) call fried potatoes and egg-battered bread, respectively, French Fries and French Toast? In Italy, they return the favor by calling eggnog Zuppa Ingelese. English Soup!

Cheers! And buone feste!

Stew Vreeland

Does it ever snow in Umbria?

Yes, Virginia, there is a possibility you’ll see snow for the holidays. Italy is fairly temperate, so it most likely won’t. But even the rare winter storm can have a shiny silver lining. In fact, some of my favorite memories were formed during winters in Panicale, years ago, when we lost power. We heated with our lovely wood burning stove, we have gas for cooking so we were still able to entertain by candle light. We relished the muffled silence on every side of us as we walked to the dimly glowing Masolino’s restaurant street. They were one of the few places that had a generator. Another time I remember pulling on boots and crunching our way thru the knee deep snow of an un-plowed road to a friend’s house on the edge of town. We popped prosecco corks and admired the most fanciful, tallest, gilded chocolate cake I’ve ever had the pleasure to see in person. Our friend had made it on commission for a fancy party which had been cancelled because all the roads were impassable. In the flickering candle light we marveled at the cake, then without further regard for its artistic merit, we sliced it, enjoyed it and toasted our friendships and congratulated ourselves on being stuck in such a fine place at such a fine time. Salute!

See you in Italy,

Stew Vreeland

P.S. And if you do get to Italy and find yourself stuck in a snow storm, tune your ears for this expression because it will be being bandied about. You watch. Someone will push in through the door, stomp the snow off their boots and start to grouse about the weather only to be met with a smile and a shrug and a philosophical “Sotto le neve c’e pane.” Which is a very short way of saying Remember, that under the snow is bread. Meaning snow brings moisture which will help to grow the wheat that is going to feed us, so lets all be all zen about the snow already! In fairness, as Pollyanna as that sounds, the second half of the rhyme is “sotto l’aqua, c’e fame.” Meaning, yes, but too much water, ie: flood, means we’ll all go hungry, too. So, smiley face followed by frown face. My sense has been that Italians may all know the second half of the rhyme but I’ve rarely heard it used.

A lot like being in Italy . . .

PORTLAND, Maine – If you were at the Italian Life Expo this weekend this recap is a walk down Recent Memory Lane.

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PORTLAND, Maine – If you were at the Italian Life Expo this weekend, this recap is a walk down Recent Memory Lane. If you missed it, well this is a way to see how it went and to see if you want to make plans for it next time. Three days of big fun, Italian in the air and in your wineglass. The video, below, shows most of us had our mouths full most of the time. Full of wine or bread or prosciutto or prosciutto on bread or olive oil on bread or gelato or more wine! The crowd was great the first night and got bigger every night! Gorgeous location.
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Thanks to everyone for their support, enthusiasm and for coming to volunteer or participate in any way. Buona Festa it was indeed.

See you in Italy

But first we need to go to Chicago on Thursday to see our daughter Grayson graduate. Steven Colbert is speaking so that should be fun. and then Fathers’s Day not coincidentally, we are going to see my father. In Iowa. He just turned 92 last week. And then we come back and Italian neighbors are coming for the Fourth of July. OK they are from California and Cuba, but they are our neighbors in Panicale. Let’s roll some bocce balls!

Ciao, ciao,

Stew Vreeland