Wanderlust

Tuscan food

 

And all this while, when we went from one city to another, one site to another, we were working on the Tuscan food. 

By no stretch of imagination can one call me foodie. By the time I am done applying my filters, the only thing left for me to eat is spicy Indian stuff. Tuscany was different.

Simple recipes that used fresh, local ingredients. Tomatoes, garlic, asparagus, bell pepper, egg plant. Lots and lots of olive olive oil and exotic herbs.

Small servings. Very well presented. Yet, without any fuss.

For lunch, we usually ordered a Bruschetta with Bierra or a local white/rouge. (Vernaccia in San Gimignano was the find of the trip). We then ordered a plate of Pasta and a plate of sea food. An espresso to round it off.

For dinner, we invariably went for a local red or plain old house wine - both inexpensive and delicious. We tried several soups. Robollita was a revelation, as was bread soup – Focaccia dipped in tomato soup has never tasted so delicious –,  a dessert, lemon tart, Tiramisu, even a chocolate cake once in a while. Ending with “un cafe”. On the way back, lunch or dinner, we would buy dollops of Gelato. By the end of the trip, we seemed to have tried each flavor. And loved them all.

We did not pick out restaurants. The restaurants picked up. We walked into the nearest Trattoria when we were hungry. There were no disappointing meals in Italy. They were uniformly delicious. Yet no two plates ever tasted the same.

The Bambini

(Previous sites on this day:  Torre del Mangia, Bernini’s Chapel, Piccolomini’s library, Piccolomino’s altar, Outside the Duomo , Piazza Il Campo)

As we trudged back to pick up our car, we found a wonderful modern Italian design.

The car was no taller than Rhea who stands at 50 inches. A traditional golf cart would be a little longer. Yet, it seemed made to seat 4 people. It had a retractable roof and a small boot.

It was as minimalistic as it could be. Not an single piece of ornament. No fuss. Nothing fancy.

Just a piece of mean driving machine. Capable of taking every elbow corner in Yuscany, every steep slope, needing as much parking space  as a cruiser bike in USA.

I enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed almost everything else in Italy.

May 28th: Bernini’s chapel, Duomo, Siena

(Previous sites on this day:  Torre del Mangia, Piccolomini’s library, Piccolomino’s altar, Outside the Duomo , Piazza Il Campo)

As Rick Steve rightly puts it, the Chapel can make a Lutheran light a candle.

Bernini’s is called Michelangelo’s stylistic heir. The king of Baroque. We had already seen his Neptune and Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi in Piazza Navona. His colonnade and his fountain in St. Pietro. His credentials were already good. Yet, this is where I bowed to him.

Especially two pieces.

Mary Magdalene:

The sculpture is a grand example of the impact of renaissance on the art and mentality of the people of Tuscany. The statue could as well be Vanessa Mae’s. Curvaceous. Sensuous. With a bare shapely leg confidently thrust out, the cloth an accessory to the nudity rather than a cover. Yet, the expression of deep piety. Throwing the viewer into a storm of confusing thoughts.

And then you have St. Jerome.

Using the crucifix as a violin. Eyes closed in extreme devotion. The gesture emotionally exaggerated. Precariously balanced.

One would expect such pieces to be center stage. They are not. You don’t see them when you enter the chapel. Such is their placement. You notice them only as you turn to leave. And then you are rocked into a shock as the limbs refuse to move. Mary on the right, St. Jerome on the left. The two symbols of absolution. And the genius of this man called Bernini.

(Next site: Torre del Mangia)

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