Listen to the sounds of Italy. And beer.

Oh dear Heavens, it is Oktoberfest time in Umbria. And you know what that means! Actually, considering, you know, WW2 and all, I guess I’m surprised Oktoberfest gets much of a celebration but, yes, Pellicano’s Restaurant has a month of fun planned for you here in Pineta.

CHIESA MADONNA DELLA SBARRA, PANICALE, Umbria—ok, work with me and know that I Am The Low Tech Guy – in a high tech world. But, I like to get right in over my head and get fun digi toys and I have a new one here in Italy with me now. It is a tiny, thumb sized recorder that records, plays MP3s and like a regular thumb drive it can transfer files up to 500 megs! What Ever a meg is. Anyway, after a dinner at the Burnt Goose in Paciano, Wiley and I arrived at a concert, late, slipped into a side pew just inside the door, waved furtively at Steve and Jules in the back row. They must have come in almost as late as we did. We snapped a couple photos, don’t worry, no flash and then started this test recording of the concert. It starts out a bit scratchy, but I tried to edit it for hours and said, you know, that will be another day. It gets fairly nice if you advance it just a bit.

The concert was in the baroque church at the end of our street and this bit of of the concert is a piece of the ever popular ”Le Sonate di J.S. Bach per cembalo e violino” I did not know the word cembalo but it sounds quite a lot like a harpsicord to me. See what you think.

INTERNATIONAL HOUSE OF PIZZA?

PINETA, UMBRIA—Oh dear Heavens, it is Oktoberfest time in Umbria. And you know what that means! Actually, considering, you know, WW2 and all, I guess I’m surprised Oktoberfest gets much of a celebration but, yes, Pellicano’s Restaurant has a month of fun planned for you here in Pineta, just outside Castiglione del Lago.

Pellicano’s is where we first fell to the gastronomic low of having French fries for a starter course ahead of the pizza course. We keep saying Oh we’re on vacation. Lets live a little. Ok. Declasse. But these are seriously good fries. So good we don’t ask how they make them but surely they can’t be this good tasting and still good for you. And they come to the table so fast its like mental telepathy. Think the thought, barely verbalize it, and in seconds you are eating your words, in what feels like one fell swoop.

I really can’t think what first got us in the door the first time here. Other than we do drive by it going back and forth to Castiglione del Lago. Its right on the edge of the road in full sight with throngs of people eating outdoors at covered picnic (peek-neek) tables in the summer, and a full rigged, actual ship in front of the door all year round. On the weekends the road itself becomes an extension of their parking lot as it is packed with young revelers in the upstairs music lounge. Not quite crazy enough, brave enough, young enough to aspire to going up to The Jackel on a Saturday night.

The first time we went in Pellicanos I am quite sure we were all the way inside the doors before we realized it was a Scottish pub. Surely, we wouldn’t have knowingly gone into a Scottish pub in the heart of our beloved Umbria? But, yes. Yes, we did and yes, there really is Tennent’s Lager on tap. Which, strangely is beer. Which is not the national drink here. I think it is usually considered that stuff made out of the grapes we drive by all day long. But the beer is here and it is flowing out of the spigots at a prodigious rate.

So the whole thing seems totally wrong and out of context but it is a fun and guilty pleasure to go there and pagans that we are, no trip to Italy is complete without a Pellicano’s fix for us. And the woodburning oven pizza is thin and crisp and consistently great and creative choices. And Choices! Pages upon pages of Choices. One time I ordered the extra spicy sausage pizza named The Serpent and imagine my surprise when it came shaped like a snake with cunning olive eyes.

Tonight’s special was interesting, maybe not up there with the Serpent, but still fun. This American tourist found himself telling the black t-shirted Italian waitress that he wanted the German braut and French fry Okoberfest pizza special. And the beer special to go with it please. The pale, pale German ale: Paulaner Oktoberfest Bier. What a head it had on it. What a Magic Moment, overall. Ah yes, we are living “la dolce vita” now. Just made me want to climb up an Umbrian hilltop with a few hundred friend, hold hands and start singing ”I’d like to buy the world a Coke, and teach it how to sing”

And come to think of it, that is how we ended the night. By the time we got our stuffed selves back to Panicale we felt the need for a forced march around the town walls, twice, and then we made a stop at Aldo’s for a Coke to help ”digestivo un po” all this World Cuisine. One more lap and then it was home – to think about what we’ve just done. And promise never to do it again. Until the next time.

Can not wait. Non vedo l’ora!

What to do, what to do? Dinner at Masolino’s first? Or coffee and hot gossip at Aldo’s? It is like the old Seinfeld program. A show about nothing. We never know what a trip to Umbria will have in store for us.

Finally. It is my turn to pack up the laptop and head off to the airport. Pilot, head this rig east to Italy! Can’t wait to see daughter, Wiley. She is the legendary Wiley Traveler. Anxious to see what adventures she has had. And together see all our old friends and new property listings! What to do, what to do? Dinner at Masolino’s first? Or coffee and hot gossip at Aldo’s? It is like the old Seinfeld program. A show about nothing. We never know what a trip to Umbria will have in store for us. I always try to stay open and flexible but things always flood in from all sides, time evaporates and I will be back on a plane headed west long, long before I will want to be. But, in the meantime, I fully expect to enjoy every moment to the max.

Oh, I have to share this. No, this is not a photo taken on a back road of Umbria. But just something designed to give me quantum nostalgia for the back roads of Umbria. A perfect little purple Ape, separated at birth from its homeland and somehow, someway transported to an apple orchard in northern Maine? I slowed down, shook my head and turned right around on a side street in Portland, Maine when I saw this beauty. Vintage 1969. And who knows why they call these Apes and their cousins, the motor scooters, Vespas? You in the back. That is correct. It is because of the sound they make. Like Bees and Wasps, those Apes and Vespas buzz up and down the streets of Italy. And at least one street in Portland.

Allora, if you will be in Panicale in October, we will wave madly, and say . . .

See you in Italy!

Stew

WILEY’S FIRST LONG TERM VISIT: AND FIRST IMPRESSIONS

The blur began with finishing university in London (Yes, I have the papers to prove it!!). And coming home to Maine for SeeYouInItaly boot camp, and now I have landed in Italy again to ––– well–––to begin!

CENTRAL UMBRIA — Well, let’s see . . . where do I begin? Is today Wednesday? I have to admit the past couple of days– the past week– the past few months have been a blur. But now that blur is slowly starting to become a dream! The blur began with finishing university in London (Yes, I have the papers to prove it!!). And coming home to Maine for SeeYouInItaly boot camp, and now I have landed in Italy again to ––– well–––to begin!

Last week here was a crazy week full of cell phone buying, unpacking and learning how to drive here, there, and anywhere else, my mother and I could think of. But on Monday, lessons finished, and after dropping my mother off at the airport, I officially dropped down the rabbit hole.

First off, driving the three hours back from Rome by myself, with my father’s words firmly in my head ”When you pull out onto a road you are not pulling out onto a road in Maine, you’re pulling out into OMIGOD! ” Well, lucky for me I avoided all ’omigod’ situations on the way back, and only had a little bit of traffic and rainfall! And I have to say, it felt good, pulling into Panicale in my little car, heading to my little house, and knowing I got there on my own. I came in and made myself a big celebration dinner– pasta with pesto (and Italian gods don’t kill me– but I put a little Tabasco sauce in it too– my version of something old, something new,?!) also had some of the great farm fresh ricotta that the Spannocchia girls brought us from their tenuta outside Siena, mmmm was that nice, and yes Mom if you’re reading this, a green bean and tomato salad! Then at about 10:30 crawled into bed and passed out– talk about big girl!!!

GREEN HONEY. AND DATING HABITS OF BLUE HAIRED UMBRIANS

Yesterday I woke up facing blue skies outside my the window and my first day alone– what to do, what to do? Work? Well that would seem like the right thing to do, but luckily I was saved from my own good intentions by our friend Celia, from San Diego. Celia found a house on SeeYouInItaly several years ago, and today was looking for some company– and some BEES!! Sounded like good enough fun to me; so, met Celia in the piazza at noon and promptly got sidetracked!

It’s Orfeo that’ll do it every time. After a brief hello, Celia told him about her quest for a particular hand cream made from bee products – that quickly led to Orfeo running into his house, grabbing his car keys, and leading us down the hill to his friends ”they have the best honey– you don’t need to go to Chiusi! You come to them”!
And so we went and arrived at a large house on a little road off the main hill to Panicale where an older woman was sorting through a basket of freshly picked mushrooms– soon her husband had made his way out, and we had small plastic spoons of honey in our mouths– then slow and heavy steps outside heralded a surprisingly young son (and bee keeper) just as a daughter, grandmother and grandchild came driving in– and in all this mayhem we managed to come away with two jars of lovely dark honey!

After our nice little detour we headed over to Chiusi where Celia’s friend and owner of a fantastic restaurant in the old city, Simoneta, greeted us warmly, handed us wine and quickly saw to preparing us food. No real ordering. Melanzane was the vegetable of the day– so I heard that word being said, other than that– Celia knew what she was doing, so I just sat back and let her. After meat starters, pasta, and a warm bean and tomato salad– all superb– we rounded out the meal with pecorino and honey (surely to keep with theme) . . . Man oh man it was a feast!

Later, as we strolled back to the car, more likely waddled, I noticed a very interesting difference between Chiusi and Panicale– In Chiusi all the benches and door stoops were filled with women, all sitting and chatting, fanning themselves and petting cats, well, as anyone’s who’s visited Panicale knows, in our town this sight is very unusual, it’s the men who take up the benches– but in Chiusi no men were to be seen– am I seeing a dating show? Umbrian Bench Dating, I really think I’m onto something here!

While at Simoneta’s we had discovered the bee shop that Celia had been told was 3 km away was really an hour away– uh oh . . . However! On Sunday I had been to Cetona for the first time with our friends Peter and Shiranee—and at the base of a particularly striking church piazza I had noticed a very strange word–Apinare? I had asked peter–Ah. he said, To do with bees . . . . hmmm well, Cetona was only a touch away and also has a great pottery shop– so, no harm in checking right!

After directing Celia where to go (yeah I remembered! See I can do this Italy Stuff!) We walked into the main piazza in Cetona, a lovely long piazza, very different from a lot of places around this area, and made our way up to the Apinare e Erbologist. It was a small shop with loads of goodies! And a father daughter sales team, who once deciding we were there to buy turned out to be very knowledgeable and very helpful . . . and although they didn’t have exactly what Celia wanted, we both came out ladened with plenty of unneeded stuff! I myself some bee pollen, royal jelly, and some ear candles! Like I said, totally useless, but incredibly fun!

Then we headed back to Panicale, where we caught the last of the sunset– and then onto dishes, and finally unpacking– yes it isn’t all glamour I’m learning!

SOUNDS OF SILENCE. GOOD NIGHT, UMBRIA

And it’s a funny thing, I’ve gone to sleep in empty houses before, but I think there are normally 3 things that can go through someone’s head alone in the dark, the first, being am I safe, well the doors are locked, the windows shut– and oh wait, I’m in Panicale– so check that one off the list. The second, it’s an old house– are there ghosts? Well I distinctly get the feeling that there is no other inhabitant in the house, so that’s alright, but it is strange, not eerie, but strange– there is no noise, none whatsoever, the sound of a buzzing insect can actually make you jump as you read in bed. And if the window is open, there are sometimes voices that find their way in, but it is very serene, but strange– I’m used to wood houses– I’m used to sounds you have no idea what could be making them– I’m used to living in a creaky house in Maine on the side of a noisy highway with four other people—and let’s admit it guys, we’re all pretty loud! Not to mention living in a five person flat in London– talk about loud! And now, suddenly, I’m in bed surrounded by thick stone walls, a sleepy town, and my own thoughts. But somehow it is not a lonely experience– maybe it’s the circular shape of the city or seeing my parents’ touches on every wall or even remembering that on any given day this house has the potential to become Party Central, but it feels like a hug. A great big Italian Nonna hug! And sleep comes very easy.

Today I am Actually Doing Work!! Yeah, it’s all going well, with breaks to do dishes and sweep and weed the garden, and chase the cats! We have two new kittens, one black and one white that have decided that our garden is their home, truth be told I’m assuming they were born here–and yes they are cute– cute as newborn kittens, but, no, our garden is not their home, which is something that not one of the town’s cats understands! And on any given day can be found asleep on our garden posts or in the lavender. Now our cause is really not helped by the fact that our neighbors —we suspect– are throwing food into our garden for them. Now, we could be wrong, but finding a large bone on the stairs doesn’t really help their case! So you can probably find me every few hours running around like a mad woman, chasing a kitten that is too small for you to see from the street– I was always good at first impressions! But apparently I am good at mimicking the action because today at Linda’s market I was able to mime out the whole thing to Linda and the Lillianna and tell them all about the kittens and all the cats, and it was nice to get some sympathy– and know that when all else fails charades work in any language– and in Italy they especially enjoy a little descriptive song and dance!

So that’s where I am now– about to make some nice soup in a bag– they really are great! Watching a Beatles video on German MTV– and trying to figure out what the message my Italian phone just sent me actually means! So we shall see, we shall see, but there is a flamingo sunset on the horizon, and warm stone steps underfoot and although my Italian isn’t anywhere near communicable, a smile will get you far in Umbria, and I have one at the moment that I just can’t seem to wipe off my face.

Foreign correspondent Midge checks in from Umbria!

Today we saw Jurgen who said we “had some work to do on our garden&rdquo . . . ! Wiley and I came back to look, but it looks great to us. Wonder what Stew would do?

PANICALE, UMBRIA — A world away that always feels just like home. How does it happen? Wiley and I arrived in Panicale just as the town prepared for Tuesday evening supper. We ate on the balcony at Masolino’s with friends from Hawaii who may soon be neighbors. They already had a favorite local wine, Boschetto, and enjoyed the mouth watering medallions of pork with the chickpeas that always please.

As daughter Wiley prepares to spend an extended period of time here — more than any of us ever have at one time, there is always something new to consider. Will the supplies we have work well, or will she find a million little things she needs? Well, the first thing we got for her is an Aldo Bar charge card! That way I know she will head to Aldo’s for her daily caffeine and meet all the neighbors! Today we saw Jurgen who said we “had some work to do on our garden&rdquo . . . ! Wiley and I came back to look, but it looks great to us. Wonder what Stew would do?

Allora, ci vediamo. We are off to make some phone calls, as there are several fun house hunters here in Italy now. And we also want to wish our friend Daniel in England a Happy Birthday. Soon, he will be enjoying Panicale in person too!

Ok, see you in Italy,

Midge

—————-

Note from Stew: Midge is just now back. I kept waiting for photos from my own Thelma and Louise team, but as The Wiley Traveler said “We were having too much fun to take photos, babbo!&ldquo Oh, sure. That old excuse! So, this is a photo of Midge from summer vs September. Wiley says she is going to be right there so she is taking action in the garden. We’ll make Jurgen proud!

Secret Life of Plants.

Having maybe solved the Great Australian Skin crisis, (see previous episode) Denise and Carla and I are free to discuss figs and some of the fine points of Carla’s recipe for fig marmalade. Until that reminds me — I have a new batch on the stove

As Midge and Wiley get ready to head over to Umbria, I look back on our trip last September. Stories that I had not shared here yet. Just to give you a taste of what kind of unplanned adventures a traveler could expect to have on any given fall day in Umbria. Part two of three parts

PANICALE, UMBRIA — Having maybe solved the Great Australian Skin crisis, (see previous episode) Denise and Carla and I are free to discuss figs and some of the fine points of Carla’s recipe for fig marmalade. Until that reminds me — I have a new batch on the stove — literally as we speak — and YIKE — have had for several hours! Hate to leave the sun and fun of the piazza but do rush home, turn off the long suffering jam and give it a stir or two.

While I’m there I’m home, I’m strangely transformed into something like a serial plant killer. I’m taking big fig prunings and runamuck wisteria’s cuttings and frantically chopping them all into tiny bits and stuffing their mutilated parts into garbage bags, so I can sneak them into the town dumpsters with the trash. My friends here say that is a big no no, but what the heck else are you to do? Their consistent sage advice? Just dump it in the country. But I’m not so sure about that. I keep on bagging.

I’ve really been after the wisteria. This is one tough plant. It is bending the iron rods holding its frame work up. The iron rods. One is almost ”C” shaped. So I cut that offending branch and pulled miles of connected vine out afterwards. Can’t even tell where I was working and cutting, as it is such a big healthy robust and aggressive plant. The trunk is fully as big around as I am. The contractors cut it right to the ground, to be able to put a crane in the yard to work on the house. I was crushed. The next year they had to cut the wisteria off to the ground again as it was threatening to be The Wisteria That Ate The Three Story Tall Crane.

Night blooming Umbrian flowers in our Panicale gardenWiley calls to tell me she is on her way home as she does everyday when she starts her inter-town hilltop hike. On the way back, she finds black berries on the side of the road and knows all their berry names now because she has a page of hand written school notes about just that subject. She takes that page out of her notebook and folds it up into a basket and gathers the berries to bring home. Berry poetic Wiley. She learned the basket-folding trick on Italian Kid Tv the other day.

We had lunch on the terrace, and now we are multi-tasking. Watching clothes dry. And figs ripen. At the same time! Sigh. Did i mention I’m in love? With a garden. All true. After a bit more of this post-lunch loafing, I attend to my little green friends for a couple hours, weeding and organizing, shaping climbing roses on the pergola etc. and notice it is getting hotter and hotter, but there is such a delicious September breeze that you’d hardly notice. Eventually, I do need a cool down moment and I give the ”beach chairs in dappled sun!” alert to Wiley and we plunk down and read beach novels off into the early evening when the sun sets behind Montepulciano. Not long after that magic moment, the giant Bella della Notte plant unfurles a raft of new, white, trumpet-sized flowers. You know the best part? We didn’t even PLANT that plant. It just showed up in our garden and now is as big as a Fiat car. As unplanned, but as welcome, as our days in Panicale.