Boots in the Oven

Another Day, Another Region: The Valle d'Aosta

On a non-anachronistic note - if all has gone well, we are in London.  Today we have lunch reservations at St. John's Restaurant in Smithfield Market, where we will toast the king of offal himself... though likely with water, because if you haven't heard, London is seriously expensive these days.

But... back to Italy, for the time being!

We left Torino early to catch the two-hour regional train to Aosta.  Our hotel (Hotel Turin) had a great view of the old Roman city walls.  And a huge breakfast buffet. 

Of course, since it was lunchtime, we took the brief walk into town to search out somewhere to eat.  Husbear happened upon  a totally cute little Valle d'Aostan place, Le Pelerin Gourmand, and we settled ourselves in to see just what was up with the food of this little region, tucked into a corner of Italy just up against France.

Since we're predictable, we ordered the antipasto misto della casa.  What came was anything but predictable.

This has to be the first time I've been served a selection of terrines and pates in an Italian restaurant.  Again, proof positive that there is no such thing as "Italian Cuisine".

Since it's sort of difficult to tell what's going on here, I'll start at the salmon (raw) and work clockwise.  We've got a pressed carpaccio of shrimp, a terrine of scallops, a country-style pork pate, a soft and crazydelicious cow cheese, and a terrine described as being "like foie gras".  And a pepper stuffed with tuna. 

Now, what the heck kind of Italian food is that?  Delicious, that's what kind.

We were trying to keep things sort of lightish, so we ordered three pastas to split between the three of us. 

The long dumplings are strozzapreti (priest stranglers!) in a slightly sour sausage sauce (yum), a not-so-awesome dish of tagliolini with crab sauce which tasted more fishy than anything else, and gnocchi in fonduta.  These gnocchi weren't like other gnocchi we've had - more starchy and bouncy against the teeth, if that makes sense.  They were all made in house, and the strozzapreti and gnocchi at least were totally delicious.

We stuck with coffee for dessert.  Over coffee, we debated how a place charging prices this low for food this good and high-quality could stay in business.

When we got the bill, we understood - 3 euro bottles of water and 3 euro coffees!  Other than that, though, their prices are crazy low for the quality.  Highly recommended.

Time for a bit of sightseeing of the non-food-related variety!

We grabbed a bus to Courmayeur, from where we'd heard you can take a scenic cable-car ride up Mont Blanc (Monte Bianco, if you're Italian).  That's the highest mountain in Europe, don'cha know.

Unfortunately, we got there too late and missed the last round-trip cable car ride.  So we resigned ourselves to checking out the ski town.  There were lots of great little food shops, selling lardo and fontina cheese (though usually not together).  We saw an oddly-shaped wooden vessel in a store and Mama Bear asked what it was -  a grolla, the proprietress said, for drinking caffe' valdostano.

Oh really?  One of these had to be ordered at the first place we stopped.

Turns out, it's a hot coffee drink spiked with grappa and a local liqueur called genepy, floated with a slice of orange.  That's sugar you see around the top - the bartender poured flaming liquor onto it, I guess to get the sugar to melt to help keep the top on?

It was perfect, warming in every way.  But... when we went to pay...

20 euro!  I've never had a $27 coffee before.  Yay. (Further exploration showed that this was a bit crazy.  The average going rate was closer to 7 euro so don't be put off.)

We really should have checked the price on that.  Lesson learned for next weekend in Venice.

Courmayeur was otherwise a very nice little Alpine ski village, though it was most certainly out of our price range.  Great window-shopping.

We rode back to Aosta considerably wiser.

After cleaning up a bit at the hotel, we walked to Taverna da Nando for dinner.

When we saw not only fonduta, but also bagna cauda, on their menu - we had to jump.

Fonduta is Valdostano fondue, while bagna cauda is actually from the Piedmont - a warm butter, cream, and anchovy dip into which you dunk raw veggies.

With homemade, actual, honest-to-goodness polenta!  This is a harder commodity than you'd think to come by here in Italy.

We thought both of these were delicious, since we're both people who love strong flavors and dipping; Mama Bear was a fan of the fonduta, but not so much of the very anchovyish bagna cauda.

I think she liked our second course, more, camoscio e polenta.  Chamois is a local game, that looks a lot like a small antelope, with a sweet flavor.  The gravy was really good with the polenta, this time cooked a little softer.

You know, sometimes I hate looking at pictures of everything we ate on a particularly crazy day, because it tends to look more than a little excessive... I promise we don't always eat like this!

The dessert was bad.  We ordered a creme caramel, over the waiter's strenuous recommendation of the tiramisu.  Dumb move, us!

On the way home we saw a viper in grappa.  I don't know if they actually drink snake grappa in these parts - it certainly felt like an early taste of Vietnam!

Big day.  Good lord.  Bigger day in the morning, so on to bed!

Le Pelerin Gourmand, Aosta, Via de Tillier.  0165.231850

Taverna da Nando, Aosta, pass follier de tillier 41, 0165.44455. 

Continuation!  Hey, I'm trying to cram an awful lot of blogging into just a few hours...

Next morning, up and at'em to the bus station to catch a bus to Breuil-Cervinia.  (Don't ask me how to pronouce that.  I studied Italian, not French.)

Anyone able to parse this sign for me, snapped out the window on the way?  No littering, no flower picking, no fires, no...trees?

When we got to Breuil-Cervinia, we discovered that you can actually take cable cars to Switzerland.  Then, if you're skiing-inclined, you can ski down into Zermatt!  Not us, today, but it is possible.  We decided on just the cable cars. 

(Check out the Matterhorn!  That's it all foggy on the left.  Monte Cervino if for all you I-talions out there. -L.Pants)

It takes three to make it to the top.  As you go up, it unsurprisingly gets progressively colder.  And it started snowing!

Here's some proof that yes, Mama Bear did make it into Switzerland.  In case any of you are doubters.

It was seriously snowing by this point.  Mama Bear gave thanks that she had decided to buy a fleece at the bottom of the mountain, and I was equally thankful that she lent me her sweater.  Everyone else was in full-on ski gear, and there we were in short sleeves and/or linen pants...

The highest up you can go with the cable cars is 3840 meters, or about 12,500 feet.  That's a lot of units, any way you slice it.  (Now Auntie, don't get jealous, but that is actually higher than the station at the top of the Jungfraujoch!)

And just so we could say we hopped over the border into Switzerland for lunch, we ate at the cafeteria at the top.  Polenta and beef stew and soup - just right for an unexpectedly cold time.

Husbear got this great picture of the last cable car descending into the abyss.

Right about exactly then was when I got altitude sickness.  The wine and coffee at lunch, combined with a brief struggle to the top of a small snowy hill, made my vision go almost completely white.  I sat on the first leg of the cable car with my head between my knees, and when we made it to the first stop a nice family told me to go lay down on a bench with my feet up until I felt better.  Fun.

Since it was snowing heavily on top of the mountain, it follows that it was raining pretty steadily in Breuil-Cervinia by the time we got back.  We scooted into a bar for a significantly cheaper caffe' valdostano and waited for the bus back to Aosta.

Awesomely, in Aosta it wasn't raining!  We ate dinner crepes and went for a walk around town.

Gelato, of course, followed.

Then lots of sleeping!  Another long day of wonderfulness.

And Husbear, once again, packed a great picnic for us to take on the long train back to Florence the next day.  This time, we had a couple of really strange sausages (a blood sausage and a beet and rice sausage) as well as goat cheese and fruit.  We got some stares, but it was totally worth it.

Torino, the return

Day 2, early morning - did you know that Turin has the largest market in Europe?

We showed up on Saturday morning, not even entirely sure the thing would be open, only to be confronted with what must have been hundreds of carts set up along makeshift alleyways in the middle of an enormous lot.

The outside food area, just in front of the huge covered market, is full of fruits and vegetables and the occasional snail.

The front area is taken up by stalls selling a wide variety, while in the back you'll find the farmers selling just a few things, their crop from that morning.  We saw the smallest, tenderest celery ever, along with the brightest carrots.

Sadly, not all the produce is sold in time...

Then, there's an entire outdoor area dedicated to clothing.  Mostly cheap stuff, but there were good deals on socks and underwear and accessories.  We saw a lot of women there wearing the head scarf.

Then, of course, there are actually two covered market buildings.  The first is dedicated to fish, and has a setup I've never seen before - vendors stand in front of and behind their wares, which are displayed at a steep angle on tables.  They actually throw fish back and forth - and we saw several vendors folding money to throw it from the top level down to the bottom.

A very strange way to do business - but it certainly looked like they'd been doing it that way for a while. 

We haven't seen variety like this at a fish market since Catania.

Then, there's an entirely different covered building, much larger than the fish building, that's full of meats and bread and dry goods.  We were surprised at the amount of sausage surrounding us - smoked sausage, German style.  Turin definitely looks north more than south, culturally.

And they had Romanian wine displayed on chains.  Interesting idea...

We spent several happy hours at the market, but eventually it was time for us to leave.  Poodle.

Torino reminded us of its stateliness.  The streets seemed even emptier, coming from the bustle of the market.

We found a really great place for lunch, under the arcades, that had a display of prepared plates.  The food was delicious and fresh - we gorged on vegetables.  Of course, most of them were au gratin or baked into quiches, but there were some just steamed... and stuffed with meat. 

We even bought some of Torino's famous candies, the little lozenges known as pastiglie.  These are raspberry flavored from Leone, and they are even now all over the bottom of Husbear's camera bag.  Oops.

Satisfied, and on to the film museum!  It's housed in a building originally built as a synagogue, until Torino's Jewish community decided costs were getting to high and sold the building to the city.

Torino was the center of Italian filmmaking for a long time, and I was sort of thinking we'd be seeing a lot of memorabilia for Italian films that I knew nothing about, or a dusty warehouse full of posters.

Turns out, I was much mistaken.  Instead of a bunch of cheesy souvenirs loosely tied together through their connection to film, what we found was a meticulously researched, very slick new-style museum full of information about the development of pictures that moved.

As well as awesome souvenirs.  I may regret not buying this.  (For those of you who are scratching your heads, "parlando" in Italian means "talking.")  Capisci?

The museum started with the parlor games dabbled in during the 17th - 19th centuries, including this fun flip-your-image trick.  Hi, upside-down me!

Then, there were eight or ten of those binoculars that let you see in 3-D - the ones that come with cards with pictures on each side?  We looked at a wedding in 1900, a glacier in 1880, and then...

PORN!

In a separate red room with a curtain saying children shouldn't go.  I was mostly surprised that the women in the pictures looked like real people.  Mama Bear was scandalized, I tell you.

Old-school parlor tricks are still fun, I have to say.

There was an area of he museum dedicated to memorabilia, as it turned out, with a script for Psycho, masks from Star Wars, and Charlie Chaplin's bowler hat.

As well as a little homage to Marylin Monroe.

The entire center of the museum is taken up by a huge viewing area, where lounge chairs point at two screens showing a loop of old films.  A cable elevator rises through the center of the room, and around the outside are arrayed what the museum calls "chapels" - small spaces dedicated to different genres of film.  An interesting idea, well executed.

The museum even has an extremely slick bar, with color-shifting tables!

After reupping on the caffeine, we took the elevator up to the roof to catch the view of Torino.  It's a really large city.

By now, of course, it was time for gelato.  We had passed a place with violet gelato and so went back to try it.

It sort of tasted like perfume.

We couldn't let the perfumed one be our only violet gelato experience, so we actually stopped by another place to try theirs out.  Much better, more like candied violets than perfume. 

After going back to the hotel to change and splash some water on our faces, we left for aperitivi.  The further north in Italy you go, the better these spreads of bar snacks tend to be.  Basically, you pay for a drink and you get unlimited access to their spread - so check the spread first!

Husbear got to have his first martini in quite a while.  Happy guy.

This place had what they called international aperitivi, which meant that, for the first time since leaving Austin in August, I actually saw a plate of sushi.  Though "sushi" might be more accurate. Whatever - it was raw salmon and rice wrapped in seaweed, and even if the rice was more risotto than sushi-style, I was still thrilled beyond belief.

Unfortunately, that's it for Torino... and even more unfortunately, for the whole of the Piemonte.  That's definitely a region we'll have to make a special visit to see.

Next time - on to Aosta!

On a more specifically timely note, we returned our phones today.  We are phoneless!  Our landlord arrives in two hours to go over the apartment list of contents from way back in August.  And the number of arguing American couples I heard on the street today walking to the train station was staggering.  (I won't poke too much fun, as that may very well be us in two weeks.)

Love from Firenze, on our last day here!

Torino, Day One. We saw a little of the Piedmont!

So, oh my god, we leave Sunday.  Today's Friday.  I've once again put myself in the position of having seventyquadrillion blog posts left to do before leaving the country. 

Oops.

My plan is to get all of these written and them have them post automatically, so there isn't a glut of like 8 posts in one day (as if I'll get 8 posts finished in one day), so don't get confused if Sunday comes and goes and there are still Italy posts arriving, 'k?

Mama Bear hadn't even been in town twentyfour hours before we were packing her onto a train for northern Italy.  Time was short!

She wanted to see her some Alps, but on the way we convinced her to make a stop in Torino (Turin).  Though we had some wonderful advice about lovely places to go in the Piemonte, (thanks, Rick!) we didn't have a car or much time this trip, so in the Piemonte we just stuck to Turin.

At least we had a ridiculous picnic?

Tomatoes and homemade hummus and babaganoush and sausage (from Matera!) and 'nduja (from Cosenza!) and caperberries and tap wine and oranges and pears and gorgonzola and parmigiano and three different types of bread and I think that must have been it.  Mama Bear was quite impressed with our collapsing wine glasses.  Yummy picnic - thumbs up, Husbear.

After like seven hours of travel, we arrived in Torino late afternoon and checked into our hotel, the Hotel San Carlo.  Turned out to be in a perfect location, and they even gave us two rooms for the price of one since they didn't have a triple available.

Though the guidebook's characterization of the place as "scrupulously clean" may have been a bit outdated...

First stop upon leaving was to get poor confused jetlagged Mama Bear some coffee.  We stopped at one of the very old-school grand caffes on the piazza in front of our hotel and ordered her a Bicerin - coffee with chocolate and cream.  And likker, though we ordered it senza.

She liked it muchly.

We walked up towards the area of town that looked most likely to house good restaurants.  Torino looks very much northern European - definitely different than Florence.  We wondered what the city looked like before the Olympics, since it looks newly spruced up.  Our Rough Guide was hilariously out of date, describing traffic-free piazzas as "choked with cars" and one immaculate space as a giant hole in the ground awaiting a new car park.

We think the loggias are a great idea that should be adopted in the southern US.

I found myself really liking Torino already.  It was open and full of air.  The buildings here are of a completely different style than we've grown used to - back to the Baroque!

And neoclassical!  (Check out the wide-angle on our new little Canon SD800 IS... we love love love.  Wave hi to your new fans, little guy!)

At 7:45, the town had barely started thinking about the evening meal.  Bars were bustling with a crowd of attractively-dressed Torinese, drinking dainty cocktails and munching on buffet-style hors d'ouevres.

We, however, were hungry.  Yummy picnic lunches don't stick with you forever!  There were lots of really nice-looking restaurants around - definitely the type of city that caters to a lot of discerning locals, not just tourists coming in from out of town wanting bistecca fiorentina and crostini toscani (I'm looking at YOU, Florence!). We actually saw Argentinian and Mexican restaurants!

We decided on Tre Galli, based on their yummy-looking menu and 73-page wine list.  73 PAGES, people!

Nice bread basket - with olive bread and the Piemontese breadstick, or grissini.

We ordered a delicious Dolcetto, Diano d'Alba La Lepre (2004, if you're counting), and split a delicious but tiny sformato di asparagi con fonduta.  That's asparagus pudding with melted cheese sauce.  We wanted more.

Moving on - a maltagiata con ragu' di mare.  This was a bit of a disappointment - the pasta was cooked well, but the seafood sauce was pretty bland.  Matter of fact, for me the overwhelming taste was of the flat-leaf parsley garnish.  Meh.

The orecchiete were better - but they better have been, since they were topped with speck and gorgonzola.  I mean, smoked cured ham and blue cheese?  That's like the best combination there is!  The fava beans, though deliciously fresh and in season right now, were totally overpowered.

Too bad the pasta was way undercooked.

After all this food, we were totally full, and decided once again to drink our desserts.  When our waitress told us they had an amaro (bitters) made in house, an involintary "oooh!" escaped my lips... and the waitress totally imitated me.  I really deserved that.

The amaro was clear!  Wierd!  And it tasted like flowers.  I dunno... I still like my amaro del capo.

By the time we left the restaurant, near 11 PM, the streets were totally full of people strolling and enjoying the cool evening.  A beer tent was set up outside of a bar, and Husbear stood in line to get us a couple.

While Husbear was waiting for his beer at the front of the line, two gypsy kids (age of 12? 14?) sidled up next to him.  When their requests for free tequila were met with "vai!" or "Go away!" they waited until the bartender's back was turned and poured themselves shots!  Ballsy.

The walk home was really pretty.  We flexed our cameras trying to capture Turin by night.

Good night, Torino!  We'll see you in the mo'nin.

Enjoying San Gimignano in Twenty Easy Steps

Your results may vary, depending on the time of year.

Brief update:  The lack of posts recently is due to the fact that Mama Bear has returned, and we've been off on a jaunt through various Italian locales, from Turin to Aosta to Venice to Ravenna.  Between two long, long weekends, we've had a grand total of one day in Florence, and that was spent not blogging. 

Last night, the Soup Peddler and his lovely wife came to visit on their way through town.  We had a great time, talking soups and Italy and Austin and media.  They're off to Lucca today.   Gawd we miss Austin.

Tonight we're welcoming Carrie and Shiloh, in from Nashville after a two-day stop in Paris.  Also, wish Husbear luck - his simulation is TONIGHT!  He's been at Apicius since 9 this morning and will with any luck finish up by about 1 in the morning.  Maybe someday you'll even get to read a post about it.

Anyhoo... a couple of weeks ago we went to San Gimignano, the many-towered teeny town that may perhaps be the most visited village in Tuscany.  A quick guide to enjoyment:

1. Arrive in town from Florence by bus, changing in Poggibonsi.  Admire the towers that meet you immediately upon getting through the gate.  They're all that remains of a medieval game of oneupsmanship.  (My tower's bigger than your tower!)

2. Realize that there's a reason this town is on so many daytripper tourist itineraries.  They even have a pretty well!

3. Stop at one of the many salumerie along the main drag, and ask them to put together a couple of sandwiches for you.  Buy a five euro bottle of cold white wine, preferably Vernaccia di San Gimignano (hey, it's local!) and smile while you talk them into opening it for you.

4. Take the sandwiches up the hill to the Rocca, the old Medici fort at the top of town.

5. Eat slowly, savoring the wine and the salami made from cinghiale - wild boar.  Watch the other tourists stroll through the park, looking at the sidewalk artists' work.

6.  Realize that if you want to see anything, you're going to have to get in gear.  Walk slowly back down the hill, but don't neglect to take pictures of the town while you're walking.

7.  Buy a ticket to visit the Duomo (actually the Collegiata, since San Gimignano no longer rates a bishop - but who's counting?).  Slap yourself for forgetting to bring sleeves to visit a church.  Sigh with relief that you obviously aren't the first to do this, as the ticket-taker drapes a giant piece of blue paper over your shoulders. (Why do I keep doing this?)

8. Go inside and take a long look at the frescoes, including a cycle by Michelangelo's fresco teacher Ghirlandaio.

9. Be ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN to find Bartolo de Fredi's 1367 fresco of Noah drunkenly exposing himself.  (Check out Taddeo di Bartolo's Last Judgment, too, though that one is full of creepy devil rape and I didn't want to include a picture of it.  We're a family blog here, people, at least most of the time.)

10. Leave the Collegiata, making a special stop around the corner at Gelateria di Piazza on Piazza della Cisterna (number 4).  OMG. 

11. Eat lots and lots of gelato.  Their pistachio, which we think may have cardamom in it, is the best version of that ubiquitous flavor we've ever had.

12. Stop into the Pinacoteca - find Memmo di Filipuccio's hilarious wedding frescoes.  Plan to revive the popularity of the husband-riding contest.

13. Take note of the way the little husband keeps his gothic hat on all the time - not only during the husband-riding contest, but also in the couple's bath and into bed.

14. Climb Torre Grossa, which is connected to the Pinacoteca.  Grumble with irritation at the rule prohibiting bags of any kind from the top of the tower and juggle your nice SLR camera.  Critique view.

15. Repeat. Hey, there's that well again!

16. Descend from tower, gather bags from free lockers, and walk back up towards the Rocca to investigate this Museo del Vino (Wine Museum) you've read about.  Stagger backwards, struck dumb by the setting of the few small tables.

17. Go inside and share a tasting of local wines.  I think we got five or six generous pours for 6 euro.  Choose your favorite, buy a whole glass, and take it outside to enjoy on the terrace.  Sigh happily.

...

18. Investigate nearby pay toilet that the table of women from Seattle were so impressed with over at the next table.  If you're a camera freak, take say five or six pictures.

19. Start making your way back down towards the bus station, but definitely stop off at Ceramicista Artistica Balducci.  Buy one of his uniquely lovely pieces.  We couldn't afford his oil pourers that funnel spilled drops back into the bottle, but we did buy a small cruet for vinegar or oil.  Ask nicely, and he may allow you a picture.  (Potrei fare una foto?  Grazie.)

20. Continue on towards bus station, stopping to pick up some inexpensive olive wood utensils.  Wave goodbye to the town walls from the bus station as you board.

Yup.  We really liked San Gimignano, though we were prepared to absolutely hate it.  Luckily, we were there on an April Friday - more than one person told us not to come back in May, as the town would be ugly and hot.  Doubt the ugly - full, maybe.

Ceramica Balducci:  Esposizione, Piazza delle Erbe, 5 (behind the Rocca) San Gimignano 0577.943188

Laboratorio, Podere Malacoda, Via S. Donnino 163.  Certaldo.  0571.660182

Dragging Nana to Siena

Well, since I last wrote, we're up one Mama Bear, freshly arrived from Mandeville with a suitcase half full of things we begged her to bring.  We're leaving in just a couple of hours for Torino and points north and Piedmonty, so let's see if I can put up a post about Siena before we go, shall we?

A post that's REALLY heavy on the pictures.  Didn't have time or the werewithal to edit down the numbers...

With Nana in tow, we hopped a bus and wound through Chiantishire towards Siena.  We arrived and checked into our hotel and immediately went in search of panforte, the Sienese yumminess that's basically a fruitcake, if a fruitcake was delicious.

Two types, panpepato (spicier) and fig and walnut.  Only one type of grandmother in this pic, though.

Then, we walked over to the Campo, Siena's main square.  It's where the Palio takes place every year, that frenetic 90 seconds of dashing horses and flailing jockeys into which the Sienese pour a lifetime's worth of neighborhood pride.  When we were there, it was just full of people sunning.  I'd put this up there with the prettiest sqares we've seen in Europe.  (And I'd say we've seen a good number, at least here in Italy.)

There's a fountain with panels by Jacopo della Quercia, whose works are all over Bologna and Lucca.  Pigeons balanced precariously, fluttering and drinking at the same time.

Then, over to the Duomo, continuing our greatest hits tour of Siena.  A fruit stand caught our eye on the way - you would not believe the amount of fruit Nana consumed while she was here.  (Well, perhaps if you knew her, you'd believe it.)

The Duomo in Siena is impressive.  No, that's not the right word for it... it's huge, and twinkles as the sun hits the mosaics above the doors.  Plus the sides are striped with marble.  They weren't going for "understated" with this building.

But it's when you get inside that the building really shines.  I've never seen another church this big with striped columns - and they're all marble, too.

(This one supports the enormous pole that held up the Florentine standard during the Battle of Montaperti, captured by the Sienese in oh, 1260 or so...)

There are so many treasures in this building.  For one, there's a small statue of Paul that Michelangelo carved early in his career for the Cardinal Piccolomini.  And off to the side, in a small chapel, is a John the Baptist by Donatello - reminiscent of his Mary Magdalene here in Florence.

There's also a crazily detailed pulpit by Nicola Pisano, which has at its base these very detailed lions and lionesses feasting on sheep and horses and such.  It's apparently supposed to be a metaphor for the Church devouring paganism, but it does look a bit strange on a pulpit.

Even Bernini, the Baroque master whose works are scattered all over Rome, is represented here.  Here's his St. Jerome playing the crucifix.  Bernini's one of my favorites - what that man can do with a chunk of marble...

The floor of the Duomo is also intricately decorated, though most of it is usually covered with protective sheeting.  Since we were there the day before Easter, even more of the floor was covered than usual because of the number of chairs set up for Easter Mass, but here's a taste - a detail of the Slaughter of the Innocents. 

Then there's the Piccolomini Library, a huge frescoed room dedicated to the life and exploits of Aeneas Piccolomini, later Pope Pius II. 

Here's the bit that shocked me - these are the original colors!  Because of the amount of light coming into this room, candles were rarely lit, so soot didn't cover up the original brilliance of Pinturicchio's paint.

We were just amazed.

Leaving the Duomo, we walked around the side of the building to the Duomo Museum.  On the side of the church, you can see the beginnings of an ambitious expansion project that would have made the Duomo just absolutely enormous.  The modern nave would have become the transept (that's the long middle part becoming the crossbar).  But then defeat by Florence, and the plague, forced abandonment.  Today, if you buy a ticket to the Duomo Museum, you can climb to the top of the unfinished facade!

Guess what we were about to do.

Don't worry, Nana kept great track of us.  Actually, she climbed up to the first level - not too shabby for 84!  (This involved a big spiral staircase being used simultaneously for ascending and decending, not an easy feat on a spiral staircase!)

The views were worth the climb, I thought.

From the top, the Campo looked just beautiful.

Speed up!  Low on time!

The Duomo Museum itself was interesting, but not... mind-blowing.  Duccio's pretty window was there.

DINNER!  Husbear's birthday dinner, to be exact - thanks Nana and Jenny!  Hostaria il Cartoccio.  (A cartoccio, I learned, is a medieval Tuscan battle cart - priests say Mass from it, it carries trumpeters and the battle standard, etc.)

Crazy antipasta.  Cup of liver, anyone?  No?  How about seventeen cured meats and a selection of delicious toasted topped breads?

Nana really wanted her some stewed veal, and that's what she got.  Though we think it was vitellone, or old veal.  (Italians differentiate between types of veal.)  She was hoping for some stewed veggies in there, but... nope.  If the Italian menu says stewed veal, that's what you get... just stewed veal.

Luckily, she ordered a sformato di spinaci for the side - a spinach pudding.  We ordered one too.

Puddingy!

Husbear and I, of course, did some coursing...

Primi - a risotto with lettuce, gorgonzola, and nettles!  Sounds tastier than the execution really was, I think.  Though I could just eat a wedge of blue cheese.

And a dish of pici, that famous Sienese pasta, here their house version - ham, mushrooms, onions, creamy, yummy.  Not homemade, I don't think - the shapes seemed a little too regular for that.

We split a secondo, a sliced meatloaf in peppercorn cream sauce.  Good, though too salty, I thought.

Dessert - "Do you have amaro?"  No.  "Limoncello?"  No.  GRAPPA.

Theirs was in a bottle with pear and coffee - a really good idea, though it was time to change out the flavorants.  Husbear is really liking the grappa.  Yurch.

Next morning - back to Nannini!  Not for panforte this time, but for breakfast.  Can you believe we did this to my grandmother?  I'm kind of embarassed showing it, but it's too funny not to share.

The morning was spent first at a Chagall and Miro' exhibit, which we enjoyed.  I'm a big Chagall fan (the museum of his works outside of Nice is well worth the trip, if you find yourself in the area), though not so much Miro'.  Sorry, guy.

No cameras here.

So, how about food stores instead?  Siena has some great ones!

Here's one with a bike in front that Nana wanted us to document for my uncle Erik.  Cool wicker bicycle, though I was more impressed with the prosciutto hanging in the window.  But that's me.  Always.

So, you know the color Sienna?  Named after the town, which is all that burnt orangey-brown because of the color of the soil surrounding the place.

We took a midday bus out of town, feeling pretty good about what we'd seen.  Goodbye, Siena - we liked your wisteria!  And your church was pretty cool, too.

And, we're off!  We don't get back until Tuesday, so please cut us some slack at least until then...

girlie