Nancy, Author at Itch.world

Nancy, Author at Itch.world - Page 20 of 20

A three-minute escape to Italy.

Tuscany, travel, medieval village, Italy, festivals, celebrations, customs, cooking, recipes, living in Italy, moving to Italy, visiting, visit, restaurants, language

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July 9, 2018 In Live By Nancy

The race to be—exactly—on time

I don’t know a lot about races, but I do know that in most, being fastest is key. So I was surprised—and delighted—to discover that the path to victory in our local vintage Vespa race is being very, very punctual. The winning strategy requires finishing the race to the correct hundredth of a second of a specified time. How do you do it? By adhering to the speed limit the whole way.

(As you could well imagine the Italians adore going the speed limit and do so on every opportunity. On a nearby, well-used road the speed limit just dropped from 70 to 50 kph prompting a local firestorm of opinion. A TV station described local drivers as being beset by “panic and rage” at the reduced limit—really? “Panic”?)

For this vintage Vespa race the art of winning is in the precision and preparation. Routes can be tricky, and are often on windy, steep, and even unpaved roads. To add to the challenge, all the Vespas are old—only certain storied racing models from the 1950s and 60s—and likely to break down. Inspired by their rides, some participants pride themselves on using only time-keeping and navigation technology from the period of their Vespa.

This all leads to some very interesting finish-line maneuvers to burn through those all-important seconds if one is slightly too early.

Watching it for the first time, I thought that surely, this was a race like no other. But digging a bit deeper into the world of vintage “racing” I realized that this style of rally is actually pretty common. But the story of this particular rally stands out as one of determination and resurrection.

Our local Vespa repair shop, which sits just down the road from the finish line, has been in business since the 1950s. It’s run by the son of the original owner, who has been racing—and fixing—Vespas since he was three (check out the pic below).

He remembers seeing the race go by when he was a kid in the 1970s but then it stopped. Two years ago he decided to revive the race and got over 50 riders to participate from all over Italy. I can’t wait for next year’s race to see how much it grows.

The lure of the Vespa is a deep one for Italians, and for reasons I wouldn’t have expected. More on that later.

July 8, 2018 In About By Nancy

Love Italy?

“Italy,” she said in italics, every syllable elongated.

I’ve never been the person who said that. Despite earnest vacation attempts, I’d never fallen in love with Italy as an aspiration, or a lifestyle. I’ve always had more of a crush on France “France” or rural England. But having moved here six years ago Italy has deeply seduced me into being a quivering pile of, well, that may be revealed in a future issue.

Here, every day is unexpected in a way that feels like driving off-road from my old life, whether I’m buying a live “replacement” chicken for a neighboring grandmother after our dog killed one of hers, accidentally calling the carpenters working on our house “witches” instead of by their last name, or being the only woman in a meeting of all men when they all simultaneously grab their balls for good luck when an inauspicious comment is made.

I want to share what I am responding to, every day, living here. Why life feels different, and a bit more technicolor.

My goal is to surprise and delight you every week, whether you’re looking for a three-minute Italian escape while at work, or are an Italophile planning your next vacation. Or even, maybe, wondering “if this is it” and are curious about what it’s like to dive head-first into a new life.

In the weekly newsletter, and on the site, you’ll find articles broken down by topic:

Live: Here I’ll share what it’s like to live here. The moments that appeal, challenge, amaze, and puzzle me every day, and those amazing words and phrases in Italian that you need to know because they are so damn wonderful.

Chow: If you’re drawn to Italy for the food, you’re not alone. I’ll be sharing my favorite local foods and ingredients, plus exceptional restaurants and farms. There will also be recipes and even a few videos of grandmothers cooking their favorites.

Roam: Ideas for day trips to little-known villages, spas, adventures, beaches, hikes, hidden corners of cities, and more.

There’s more to come…

Not every inspiring moment fits into a category, especially here. I’ll share other bits and pieces that I think you might like as we live them.

Glad you are here, and I’d would love to hear what you think. If you have friends who would enjoy Itch, please invite them to share the adventure.

July 7, 2018 In Chow, Recipes By Nancy

Deep-fried acacia blossoms

In mid-August, I start to long for winter in Tuscany. Those months can be surprisingly cold, grey, and wet—but still gorgeous—and are slower, with only the locals out and about. Despite my love of winter it’s always exciting when the acacia trees start flowering—a sign of the landscape waking up. In early summer these delicate white cascades adorn acacias big and small, from the tallest trees to unassuming roadside bushes.

Best of all, you can taste this bit of summer. I’ve never seen it served at a restaurant, but the tradition of battering and frying these acacia blossoms is alive and well, passed among kitchens and between generations. It requires some foraging, since you won’t find acacia blossoms at a supermarket, but it’s an adventure that marks the season.

This old Tuscan recipe was told to a friend of mine by a 90-year old neighbor who is an avid forager. It’s simple, yet sophisticated, and adds drama whenever it’s served. There’s a slight floral flavor that’s unexpected in something fried. When we served it recently a friend called it “adult popcorn.”

I have heard that elderflowers and spring garlic are also delicious done this way.

To make deep-fried acacia flowers:
Gather bunches of acacia flowers when they are in early to full bloom. We don’t wash them (way too fragile), but you should look closely for any bugs. For the batter take about 1 cup of 00 flour (all-purpose also works) and mix with 1.5 cups of COLD sparkling water and a little salt. Mix it all together until you have a batter that’s the consistency of pancake batter. Pour about 4 inches of sunflower (or peanut) oil in a pan and heat until around 350 F (175 C). Hold the acacia blossoms by the stem and dip them in the batter, coating each well, then drop them in the oil, a few at a time, until they are a nice golden color. (Don’t let them drip too long before putting in the oil as you want them well-coated.) Remove and drain on paper towers, then serve as soon as you can. We’ve always sprinkled sea salt on top, but I’ve heard that a little acacia honey is also magic, and is rather poetic to boot.

July 7, 2018 In Roam By Nancy

The Madonna del Parto

Another restaurant I love in Monterchi is Una Terrazza in Toscana, run by three sisters from Rome. They make the best Carbonara I’ve ever had. One cooks, one works the front, and one splits her time. It’s tiny inside and in the winter I am usually the only woman eating there as most are work men in some type of uniform, often head to toe safety orange. Because it’s also a worker’s restaurant they offer a fixed lunch of pasta, main course, wine, and water for €12. (I adore worker’s restaurants, more about the genre later, with many more addresses to come.)

Oh, this place also happens to be next door to a museum that houses one, and only one, painting. It’s Piero della Francesca’s Madonna del Parto, one of the greatest masterpieces of the Renaissance, and the first time in art history that the Madonna was ever shown pregnant. Piero painted it for his mother who lived in Monterchi and it was in the cemetery until it was recently moved to the museum. No one is sure exactly who owns it: Italy, the Vatican, or the local village. Because of this Monterchi will never let it go on loan to major museums worldwide because it might never return back to the village. The New York Times has a fascinating article about it.

There is something about her expression, and the angels’ red and green feet contrasting with their red and green robes that gets me every time.

I guess it gets other people too. One time at lunch early on in our time in Italy (really saying that I was still pretty contaminated by California thinking) a Brit at the next table was holding forth on how he was “on the trail of the PDFs.” My mind was racing—had his computer crashed and he had lost valuable documents? Was he tracing a digital trail for some fantastic white-collar crime? Nope. He was on the trail to see all of the local Piero Della Francesca’s.