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A three-minute escape to Italy.
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Il Bindi: one table, many courses

In one of my favorite villages in Tuscany, Monte San Savino, a friend spotted a place to eat with just one large table, Il Bindi. I’ve tried to get in several times over the past year, but it’s always booked. I finally managed to reserve on a Wednesday night in February and it was worth the perseverance.

Il Bindi was started in 2006 by Paolo Bindi and is now run by his daughter, Cristina, and her husband. She cooks, with one assistant, and he takes care of the guests. They serve one set menu only and it changes every day. The table seats 20 and the night we went it was all Italians, except for us and three Brits. Because it was mostly Italians any sense of reserve between the different parties around the table quickly melted. The family to my left, who was celebrating the father’s birthday, had a thirteen-year old daughter who had brought along two friends. They were very shy about the fact they hadn’t taken English seriously enough in school and kept asking me to tell them how to say things in English. The lack of pretense, humor, and curiosity of the group was so distinctly Italian that it almost didn’t matter what the food was like.

But it was impressive. They served about twenty different courses, completely made by hand, and all more refined and creative than we’ve found almost anywhere else in Tuscany.

Monte San Savino is worth a trip in itself. Halfway between Siena and Arezzo it has the qualities I treasure in certain villages—it’s a gorgeous, perched hill town from around 1100, but it feels like it has an authentic life apart from tourism.

 

When we went to pay the bill the total was €60, including a bottle of wine. We will be back, if we can get in.

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A very fine vintage

In the nearby farm stand where they grow organic vegetables in fields outside the door, and will harvest to your request, they also serve lunch. (The subject of another edition of Itch.) John and I had lunch there several days ago with friends and talked to the owner about the red wine he was serving, made from grapes he had grown and harvested. Our friend wanted to know what type of grapes were in it—pretty much the first question for any wine-maker. The owner responded that he had no idea. They were grapes that were growing on his property. And that he had added some white grapes into it as well.

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A one-table restaurant, Tuscan style

There’s a farm stand I love. It’s a big shed and they sell things from their land, including eggs from the chickens who are underfoot. I asked if they had any broccoli rabe and they sent their son into the field to cut some. He returned with an armful, stems dripping.

They have created a fabulous font.

John and I happened to be there around lunch time and I noticed two construction workers sitting at the one tiny table in the place. Minutes later I saw two bowls of spaghetti aglio e olio go by, one of my favorite things to eat. I asked a crazy question—”do you serve lunch here?” The answer was yes, cooked in their kitchen next door. The workers finished eating, explaining that they come here nearly every day, and left the table so that we could sit down, taking their coffee elsewhere.

And we had this wickedly good lunch—grilled vegetables from the garden followed by pasta, and wine. Served with such pride and pleasure. All for €9 each.

My 15-minute errand turned into a 90-minute lunch, making me late for everything else that day, but sometimes when Tuscany grabs you by the collar you can’t say no.

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Caramelized red onion jam

I find it really hard to find a restaurant I like in Florence. Most are completely geared towards tourists who will only come once, with food, prices, and service to ensure that the one visit expectation will be fulfilled. I’ve found a couple of places that are exceptions: Il Santo Bevitore restaurant, and its two spin-offs, the little wine bar next door, Il Santino, and a bread shop, S.forno. They are across the river from the Duomo in my favorite neighborhood which is filled with actual Florentines, and small shops and restaurants.

The restaurant is lovely, but the wine bar, Il Santino, has stolen my heart. It’s tiny, a gorgeous mix of ancient walls, an antique bar, and more modern design elements. It has an atmosphere that’s both warm and hip. The staff has been a delight every time I’ve been there, and even sold me bulk cheeses when I’ve been stuck before a party.

I recently went with friends for a glass of wine and some snacks and alongside the great selection of cheeses was a little jar of nearly-black goop. We started eating it with everything, kept asking for more, and then asked for the recipe. It’s a great mix of savory and sweet, with a little extra kick from cinnamon. My friend made it the next day and it turned out wonderfully. It’s super easy too.

Caramelized Red Onion jam:

6 red onions

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

dash of olive oil to coat the pan

Slice the red onions, then saute with a little oil, over medium-low heat for about 30 minutes or longer—until completely they are soft and caramelized. Add sugar and cinnamon, then put into a food mill and process until it reaches a smooth consistency. Taste and add more sugar and/or cinnamon as desired.

Great served at room temperature with cheese and bread. Also fantastic with cheese and bread are the preserved figs.

 

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I love the Castle of Love

I avoided going to Castello di Ama for years. Friends would say “It’s the most amazing winery with this incredible contemporary art collection.” Instantly all the warning bells in my head would go off. This particular collection of words was a microcosm of why I left California. The last thing I wanted to find in my beloved, genuine, unpredictable, slightly-disheveled Italy was a pretentious, wrapped-with-bow-for-the-tourists, cold, and anonymous winery/contemporary art extravaganza.

But eventually, we took the plunge and went for lunch. And I was shocked out of all my preconceptions. It felt like coming to someone’s home.

Beautiful views, gorgeous old buildings, and damn good food and wine are all a given in Italy, but this experience had something more—a true warmth and grace—largely due to the staff who all seem passionately attached to this place. Our waiter, Federico, whom I’ve gotten to know over about the dozen times I’ve now visited, has that magical balance of heart, knowledge, and self-respect that is the hallmark of staff in a three-star restaurant in Paris. But here, everything happens in Italian, which is even more delightful. The food is inspired Tuscan classics, and the wine pairings spot on.

I am working on the recipe for their carrot-zucchini souffle and will post when I manage to make it as well at home as I’ve had at Ama. (I got the recipe from them, but it’s for 40 so takes a little adaptation.)

 

 

 

 

Ama is not really a castle, but rather a small hamlet which dates to the 1100s. The cluster of buildings was divided between two wealthy families, which resulted in two manor houses and two churches. In the 1970s, four Roman families decided to buy the hamlet and restore the vineyards. The current owner, Lorenza Sebasti (daughter of one of the Roman families), and her winemaker husband, Marco Pallanti, have had Ama since 1982, and oversaw one of the greatest upsets in wine history.

According to Decanter Magazine “Ama had a ‘Judgement of Paris’ moment on 8 February 1992 when the L’Apparita 1987 vintage beat Pétrus 1988, Le Pin and 16 other world-class Merlot wines at a tasting hosted by the Académie du Vin in Switzerland, with a jury comprised of renowned winemaking consultant Michel Rolland.” (And sometimes bottles of L’Apparita are open and available for tasting.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The contemporary art is equally inspired. Ama has had an artist-in-residence program with artists such as Louise Bourgeois, Anish Kapoor, Hiroshi Sugimoto, and Daniel Buren creating site-specific works. I love how Nedko Solakov’s doodles play with everything from power outlets to small cracks in the wall in one large room. Jenny Holzer was having lunch when we were there —she’s the next artist to add to the collection.

There are also villas for overnight stays on the property. I’ve had a chance to peek into some of the  suites. Sigh. Hopefully at some point.

If you visit, Siena is only 25 kilometers away, and also nearby is the wonderful Terme San Giovanni.

 

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The pasta we can’t quit (and recipe)

When I want a mini-vacation—and lunch—I head to the sleepy Tuscan hilltop village of Monterchi. In the piazza at the top is one of my favorite family restaurants, Ristorante Al Travato.

It’s only open from-kinda-around-Easter to kinda-around-the-end of October, depending on the weather and the back health of Laura. The family first opens the restaurant on weekends only, then slowly builds, with the heat, to being open most days in summer, and then winds it all back down in the fall. What they do all winter I am not sure, although they’ve hinted it involves skiing.

Marco, Laura’s husband, finds the wines for the cellar—a cave that goes back into the medieval walls—and Laura cooks. Two of their teenage daughters serve (yep, beauties. We can even get our 14-year-old son to eat there whenever we want), while the youngest daughter rides around the square on her small, enviable pink bike.

Our family craves one dish in particular, at least once a week— Spaghetti Aglio, Olio e Pepperoncini—true Tuscan soul food. It’s spaghetti that’s properly al dente, loads of garlic, and a few really hot peppers, all swimming in olive oil.

While it’s simple in its ingredient list, differing opinions of how it should be made abound. You could say of Laura’s (off-menu version): “questo spacca di brutto” (“this chops off the ugly”—I know, the translation doesn’t help me either, but the kids say it means something is a big deal). Best of all for anyone who wants to bring a bit of Italian soul food into their kitchen, it’s easy enough to do tonight with ingredients you probably already have on hand.

Here’s a two-minute video on how Laura makes the definitive Tuscan comfort food.

A cooking note: you’re going to save some of the water from cooking the pasta when you drain off the rest. Also—do this before the pasta has reached the “al dente” (still slightly firm when bitten) state. It will finish cooking when added to the pan with the other ingredients (while the last bit of cooking water helps their flavors go inside the noodles).

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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.

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