Cinque Terra and Piedmont 2010
Jun 2nd, 2010, 01:01 PM
#22
great report, Scott - I feel that I'm there with you - especially when I'm having a glass of wine at the same time!
I have to say, though, that the CT has slipped down my "to do" list - far too many people in to small an area, by the sound of it. Or am I being unfair?
I have to say, though, that the CT has slipped down my "to do" list - far too many people in to small an area, by the sound of it. Or am I being unfair?
Jun 2nd, 2010, 01:40 PM
#24
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I always enjoy your trip reports, and you are taking me back to CT (and wishing for a balcony overlooking the Med and a bottle of wine). Looking forward to the rest.
annhig - We were in CT in early May a few years ago and did not find the crowds to be bad. Perhaps we got there before the big summer crush starts, but its definitely worth a few days of exploring.
annhig - We were in CT in early May a few years ago and did not find the crowds to be bad. Perhaps we got there before the big summer crush starts, but its definitely worth a few days of exploring.
Jun 2nd, 2010, 10:43 PM
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@annhig - we wont lie, there are a lot of people here during hte day, and being crowd averse as we are, I am praticing my patience, especially on trains. I am on vacation, I am not in a rush, I am on vacation...hahahha. But to be honest, it is worth it. We were going to come early in May when I am guessing there are less people, but then I was scared of iffy weather. For us, its a trade off and we are soo glad we came.
There are less people on the trails from Manarola to Corniglia as the trail is a bit more challenging than the one to Riomaggiore. If you see large tour groups coming through just let them pass. We have never had a problem getting into a restaurant that we wanted, or a cafe overlooking the ocean. We've made reservations in the morning for dinner, or gone for dinner around 7ish and had no problem whatsoever.
Having said all that, I am so glad we came! We love it, and having our own patio (no crowds there!) to come back to every afternoon as been the best! Nothing like a glass of cool white wine, overlooking the Med! Amazing!
There are less people on the trails from Manarola to Corniglia as the trail is a bit more challenging than the one to Riomaggiore. If you see large tour groups coming through just let them pass. We have never had a problem getting into a restaurant that we wanted, or a cafe overlooking the ocean. We've made reservations in the morning for dinner, or gone for dinner around 7ish and had no problem whatsoever.
Having said all that, I am so glad we came! We love it, and having our own patio (no crowds there!) to come back to every afternoon as been the best! Nothing like a glass of cool white wine, overlooking the Med! Amazing!
Jun 3rd, 2010, 04:30 AM
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Have really enjoyed reading your account of your time in the Cinque Terre. We'll remember your restaurant recommendations when we are in Manarola in October. Your pictures are great Jamie!!! Enjoy the rest of your trip.
Jun 3rd, 2010, 04:49 AM
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annhg,
You can enjoy all of scenic Liguria -- food, wine, cliff hiking, boat trips, pastel towns and swimming -- without the crowds of tourists in either the towns surrounding the Portofino promontory or the bay of La Spezia between Lerici and Tellaro.
You can enjoy all of scenic Liguria -- food, wine, cliff hiking, boat trips, pastel towns and swimming -- without the crowds of tourists in either the towns surrounding the Portofino promontory or the bay of La Spezia between Lerici and Tellaro.
Jun 3rd, 2010, 04:56 AM
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bikerscott and jamikins,
glad you got the real deal achovies and lasagne al pesto. I have never had a good pizza in Liguria. It's just not something the locals do as well as foccacie and farinata. It's worth investing in those cheap plastic shoes they sell along the beachfront through most of Liguria if you plan on swimming on the pebbly beaches.
Looking forward to Piemonte!
glad you got the real deal achovies and lasagne al pesto. I have never had a good pizza in Liguria. It's just not something the locals do as well as foccacie and farinata. It's worth investing in those cheap plastic shoes they sell along the beachfront through most of Liguria if you plan on swimming on the pebbly beaches.
Looking forward to Piemonte!
Jun 3rd, 2010, 01:32 PM
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Day Six – Goodbye Ocean, Hello Mountains
We got up this morning for the last time in Manarola. It was actually quite overcast for the first time, and we packed our bags feeling almost as gloomy as the weather. We’d loved our five days in the Cinque Terre and didn’t really want to leave.
We rolled our suitcase down to our little cafe for breakfast and had a leisurely cappuccino and pastry – we didn’t have to be at the train until noon so had a bit of time to kill. We spent about as much time as we could nursing our coffees before deciding to sit on the seats down at the harbour and read our books for a while until it was time to go.
The train ride was, other than being full of high school students, uneventful and fairly fast. We got to Genoa and despite having a little map to the car hire shop, couldn’t figure out which way to go from the train station. Fortunately, my very little amount of Italian was just enough to ask a bus driver who was on a break, and even more amazing that than, to understand (sort of) what he meant – the international language of pointing saved the day I think.
Our hire car turned out to be a Lancia Muso which we’ve named “Francesca” (we have a tradition of naming all of our hire cars – our first and still favourite was a Fiat Stilo named “Florianne”, named after the girl at the Quick Burger at the Dijon train station that served us our lunch just before we picked up that hire car. Our sat-nav is called Tracy). Despite driving on the wrong side of the road, and bizarre Italian traffic (how do those scooter drivers not all die?), we made it to the seemingly endless series of tunnels leading up in to the mountains and away from the Mediterranean.
As usual, our hire car was slightly underpowered for hills, and while I managed to keep to 120km/hr, the extra 10km/hr to hit the Autostrada speed limit seemed a bridge too far for poor Francesca. The tunnels did get a bit tiring after a while – sunglasses on, sunglasses off, sunglasses on...and so on and so on. Even Tracy the satnav got tired of it and kept dropping the satellite signal.
We finally made it to the outskirts of Asti and had a major decision to make – trust in Tracy, who didn’t really know where Villa Sampaguita was, or rely on the instructions Jamie had gotten from Google Maps, which has had a history of being vastly wrong for us in the past. As Google at least had an idea of where we were supposed to be, we went with that, which turned out to be a good thing, as Tracy was trying to point us in entirely the wrong direction. After a long drive up possibly the narrowest road in all of Italy, we found it.
Rina came out to meet us and showed us to our room. They were in the middle of a business meeting, so we were left to our own devices. We quickly decided that a run into Asti to pick up a bottle of wine for the evening and dinner was in order.
Parking turned out to be a bit of a mission – the first lot we tried was full as full can be, and after circling for a bit, we thought that we’d try one a bit further out of centre. We were in luck – as we pulled in, someone was pulling out. €2 later we were set for the evening.
The B&B had a list of recommended local restaurants, and Osteria Tacabanda was the one we picked (it seemed easiest to find. As we sat down, we noticed that our waiter appeared to have Down’s Syndrome. Not an issue at all, but a bit unusual. It turns out that Tacabanda is part of a school for people with disabilities where they can learn to work in a restaurant/hotel and gain some independence – almost all of the staff, including the kitchen staff, have a disability of some sort.
We were impressed with the mission of the school, and even more impressed with the quality of the food. I started with a pepper timbale with a bagna caoda (a garlic and anchovy sauce) which was delicious, and Jamie had a lovely little package of cheese and white truffle wrapped in a savoy cabbage – completely delicious. For mains, I went with the roasted rabbit with stuffing, and Jamie had pasta with a parmesan and truffle gelato in top – mine was good, but Jamie’s was fantastic, despite the gelato making the pasta go cold (possibly a bit too clever for its own good).
By the time we finished dinner, we were both absolutely stuffed. We rolled back to the car (Jamie more so than me – as I had to drive, I only had one glass of the barbera that the waiter recommended).
We found our way back to the B&B with surprisingly little drama given the darkness and the tiny road, and have cracked a fresh bottle of wine and are currently sitting on our little balcony, looking at the Piedmontese stars and listening to crickets. Not the sound of the Mediterranean surf, but it’ll do.
We got up this morning for the last time in Manarola. It was actually quite overcast for the first time, and we packed our bags feeling almost as gloomy as the weather. We’d loved our five days in the Cinque Terre and didn’t really want to leave.
We rolled our suitcase down to our little cafe for breakfast and had a leisurely cappuccino and pastry – we didn’t have to be at the train until noon so had a bit of time to kill. We spent about as much time as we could nursing our coffees before deciding to sit on the seats down at the harbour and read our books for a while until it was time to go.
The train ride was, other than being full of high school students, uneventful and fairly fast. We got to Genoa and despite having a little map to the car hire shop, couldn’t figure out which way to go from the train station. Fortunately, my very little amount of Italian was just enough to ask a bus driver who was on a break, and even more amazing that than, to understand (sort of) what he meant – the international language of pointing saved the day I think.
Our hire car turned out to be a Lancia Muso which we’ve named “Francesca” (we have a tradition of naming all of our hire cars – our first and still favourite was a Fiat Stilo named “Florianne”, named after the girl at the Quick Burger at the Dijon train station that served us our lunch just before we picked up that hire car. Our sat-nav is called Tracy). Despite driving on the wrong side of the road, and bizarre Italian traffic (how do those scooter drivers not all die?), we made it to the seemingly endless series of tunnels leading up in to the mountains and away from the Mediterranean.
As usual, our hire car was slightly underpowered for hills, and while I managed to keep to 120km/hr, the extra 10km/hr to hit the Autostrada speed limit seemed a bridge too far for poor Francesca. The tunnels did get a bit tiring after a while – sunglasses on, sunglasses off, sunglasses on...and so on and so on. Even Tracy the satnav got tired of it and kept dropping the satellite signal.
We finally made it to the outskirts of Asti and had a major decision to make – trust in Tracy, who didn’t really know where Villa Sampaguita was, or rely on the instructions Jamie had gotten from Google Maps, which has had a history of being vastly wrong for us in the past. As Google at least had an idea of where we were supposed to be, we went with that, which turned out to be a good thing, as Tracy was trying to point us in entirely the wrong direction. After a long drive up possibly the narrowest road in all of Italy, we found it.
Rina came out to meet us and showed us to our room. They were in the middle of a business meeting, so we were left to our own devices. We quickly decided that a run into Asti to pick up a bottle of wine for the evening and dinner was in order.
Parking turned out to be a bit of a mission – the first lot we tried was full as full can be, and after circling for a bit, we thought that we’d try one a bit further out of centre. We were in luck – as we pulled in, someone was pulling out. €2 later we were set for the evening.
The B&B had a list of recommended local restaurants, and Osteria Tacabanda was the one we picked (it seemed easiest to find. As we sat down, we noticed that our waiter appeared to have Down’s Syndrome. Not an issue at all, but a bit unusual. It turns out that Tacabanda is part of a school for people with disabilities where they can learn to work in a restaurant/hotel and gain some independence – almost all of the staff, including the kitchen staff, have a disability of some sort.
We were impressed with the mission of the school, and even more impressed with the quality of the food. I started with a pepper timbale with a bagna caoda (a garlic and anchovy sauce) which was delicious, and Jamie had a lovely little package of cheese and white truffle wrapped in a savoy cabbage – completely delicious. For mains, I went with the roasted rabbit with stuffing, and Jamie had pasta with a parmesan and truffle gelato in top – mine was good, but Jamie’s was fantastic, despite the gelato making the pasta go cold (possibly a bit too clever for its own good).
By the time we finished dinner, we were both absolutely stuffed. We rolled back to the car (Jamie more so than me – as I had to drive, I only had one glass of the barbera that the waiter recommended).
We found our way back to the B&B with surprisingly little drama given the darkness and the tiny road, and have cracked a fresh bottle of wine and are currently sitting on our little balcony, looking at the Piedmontese stars and listening to crickets. Not the sound of the Mediterranean surf, but it’ll do.
Jun 3rd, 2010, 03:13 PM
#32
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One of the things I've learned living in a small town in Italy is that it is not at all unusual to find people with various disabilities employed in local businesses. Apparently not everyone knows or appreciates this, and I once read a rather scathing review of an extremely nice hotel because the night desk clerk had some disabilities, none of which affected the performance of his job, but which caused the guests to rant about the horrible judgment of the owners to have placed such a person in customer service.
Jun 4th, 2010, 07:30 AM
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Wonderful, and funny, report. We'll be in Manarola in September for 5 days, and it's nice to know there are others with our belief that we should do our best to keep the local wine businesses afloat! We have not been to Piedmonte, but it's on our list. Looking forward to hearing more about your time there.
Jun 4th, 2010, 01:15 PM
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Day Seven – Time to Loosen Trousers
Today we woke up and started getting ready at 8:15, which was earlier than I would have liked as I’d had a cup of full-caffeine coffee the previous evening, which turned out not to be such a good idea. On the other hand, we thought we’d made a good early start to the day.
After getting ready, we went downstairs for breakfast. There were two other couples staying at Villa Sampaguita; a couple from Rhode Island in the States, and another from Canada. Two odd things with this – the guy from Rhode Island is also named Scott (not that odd I suppose), but the guy from Canada was working in the same office building in London England at the same time as Jamie – that is odd.
Breakfast was the usual sort for a B&B – coffee, orange juice, fresh fruit, yoghurt, granola, scrambled eggs (with fresh basil and tarragon, very tasty). We were regaled with tales and advice by the garrulous host Tim, to the point that breakfast stretched to almost an hour and a half – very entertaining. Tim gave us maps and itineraries for the day’s driving tour, and offered to call a friend of his whose family owns a vineyard in the Barolo region.
We finally hit the road at about 11am and headed south, in the general direction of Barolo. The Barolo valley is in the shape generally of a horseshoe, and we drove along the windy roads on the top of the ridge. Tim sent us along the back roads, which are always more interesting than the Autostrada, although the Italian drivers around me seemed intent on self-destruction – I’m convinced they learn to drive at the Mario Andretti School of Fast Motoring And Dangerous Passing (apparently I drive far too slowly, but 90km/hr on roads barely wide enough for my car, let alone two lanes, is just too fast for me).
Due to the late start (apparently), we went straight to the winery for a tour and a tasting. (www.rivetto.it) The Rivetto family has owned the winery and the land for four generations, and Enrico (the youngest son) was nice enough to show us around the place before giving us a taste of three of their wines. Being used to North American wine tastings, I thought he poured tasters like a champion. I actually had to ask him to pour me a slightly smaller portion as I had to drive, which brought a tear to my eye.
The wine was excellent – he gave us a 2007 Barbaresco, then a 2006 and 2005 Barolo. All were brilliant, and we were forced to buy two (I hate when that happens) – a Barbaresco to drink on our patio in Asti and a Barolo to take home with us.
We were there for a fair bit of time, and it was just about lunch time when we were finished. Enrico recommended a restaurant in the town just across the valley from the winery – Restaurant Italian in Serralunga. There were two menus – we chose the €20 option which included antipasti, a first course, a main course, and desert. As there was no listing of what each was, we weren’t really sure what we were going to get. The antipasti turned out to be sliced veal with a local tuna and mayonnaise sauce (which doesn’t sound like it would be good at all on veal, but was actually really good). First course was ravioli for Jamie and nebiolo risotto (nebiolo is a variety of local wine). Both again were very tasty. Mains was rabbit (coniglio sounds better than Bugs Bunny), and dessert was panna cotta and tiramisu.
Full and feeling very pleased with ourselves we walked back to the car to continue our driving tour. Both of us were a bit surprised with the heat – it seemed to have gotten significantly hotter while we were having lunch. The thermometer in the car confirmed it: 32°C on the 4th of June. I’m glad we had air conditioning.
Next on the itinerary was the town of Barolo itself. We found a parking lot just on the edge of town, but of course it was full. There was a sign for more parking further down the hill, so I pointed Francesca in that direction. Unfortunately they have decided to rip up and repave almost all of Barolo, so we were quickly turned around and headed back up to the main road. Still no parking in the lot, however there was a spot on the side of the highway (or whatever it was). I quickly darted over and managed to do a half-decent job of parallel parking, despite being on the wrong side of the road (I’ve re-learned how to drive in Britain on the left, and am finding being back on this side very disconcerting).
We walked down the hill we’d just driven back up and into Barolo. A quick look around revealed almost nothing of any interest – a few wine shops, oddly a museum dedicated solely to corkscrews (which they charged €4 to go into – a bit steep to look at a bunch of old corkscrews in my view), and a whole lot of construction. Maybe it would have been better without the lorries, cranes, and dirt everywhere.
We hiked back up the hill in the sweltering heat (we live in London, anything other than cold drizzle is sweltering to us) and got back in the car, air-con cranked up to the max. We drove down the hill and back up again to see the view from the top of La Morra, as it’s one of the highest spots around and Enrico had said that the views from up there were the best. He was right – from the medieval fortification looked down the entire Barolo valley, all the way to the Alps in the far distance. We thought about stopping for another bottle of wine, but were parked in a customer parking space in front of the local grocery store (we’d been in to buy water, so we were technically customers) and felt a bit guilty about using their reserved space, so we headed back down the hill.
We’d done a fair bit of driving so far, and were about an hour away from home, so we decided to head back and have a glass of wine on the balcony while we waited for a reasonable hour to go for dinner. It turned out to be a very good plan.
I didn’t feel like doing much more driving today, so we chose another of the recommended restaurants – this one quite close to the B&B. It is one of the oddest-located fine dining establishments I’ve ever seen – wedged behind a gas station on the road between Asti and Torino.
La Grotta is evidently one of the most famous restaurants in Asti (according to their literature), and sure enough, on the wall in the lobby is a picture of Pope John Paul II shaking hands with the chefs and the menu they served him. I figure if it’s good enough for the Pope, it’s good enough for me.
We felt a bit under-dressed, as all of the waiters were in white dinner jackets, and everything was served on trolleys – very old-fashioned and elegant. Everyone tells us that Piedmont is known for their antipasti, so we had the “Mixed Lean Meats” as it was described on the menu. It turned out to be a trolley laden with all sorts of delicious treats that the waiter served us a selection of – including: boiled egg with mayonnaise, a sort of potato and tuna salad, beats, veal with tuna mayonnaise, veal tongue with sauce (we didn’t find out that’s what it was until after we’d eaten it), tomato and mozzarella, and others.
We split a first course of baked lasagne, which was quite tasty; although I think based on the size of our main courses we could have easily skipped it. Jamie went for the veal Milanese (otherwise known a schnitzel), and I had saltimbocca alla romana (veal with sage and prosciutto). Both were excellent but GIANT – double or triple what I would have expected at home. We managed to eat a good chunk of both dishes but neither of us could finish; there was just too much. The waiter brought the dessert trolley over, and everything looked so appetizing. We were both too full to really think about it, and we had to decline. A tragedy. I found room for a decaf espresso, but even than was a stretch.
We drove back to the B&B and set up on the balcony for a final glass of wine. I almost immediately got a giant mosquito bite on my toe, which hurts like hell – hate those little flying bastards. We quickly adjourned inside and closed the screen – discretion being the better part of valour. A slightly itchy and swollen end to an excellent and very filling day.
Today we woke up and started getting ready at 8:15, which was earlier than I would have liked as I’d had a cup of full-caffeine coffee the previous evening, which turned out not to be such a good idea. On the other hand, we thought we’d made a good early start to the day.
After getting ready, we went downstairs for breakfast. There were two other couples staying at Villa Sampaguita; a couple from Rhode Island in the States, and another from Canada. Two odd things with this – the guy from Rhode Island is also named Scott (not that odd I suppose), but the guy from Canada was working in the same office building in London England at the same time as Jamie – that is odd.
Breakfast was the usual sort for a B&B – coffee, orange juice, fresh fruit, yoghurt, granola, scrambled eggs (with fresh basil and tarragon, very tasty). We were regaled with tales and advice by the garrulous host Tim, to the point that breakfast stretched to almost an hour and a half – very entertaining. Tim gave us maps and itineraries for the day’s driving tour, and offered to call a friend of his whose family owns a vineyard in the Barolo region.
We finally hit the road at about 11am and headed south, in the general direction of Barolo. The Barolo valley is in the shape generally of a horseshoe, and we drove along the windy roads on the top of the ridge. Tim sent us along the back roads, which are always more interesting than the Autostrada, although the Italian drivers around me seemed intent on self-destruction – I’m convinced they learn to drive at the Mario Andretti School of Fast Motoring And Dangerous Passing (apparently I drive far too slowly, but 90km/hr on roads barely wide enough for my car, let alone two lanes, is just too fast for me).
Due to the late start (apparently), we went straight to the winery for a tour and a tasting. (www.rivetto.it) The Rivetto family has owned the winery and the land for four generations, and Enrico (the youngest son) was nice enough to show us around the place before giving us a taste of three of their wines. Being used to North American wine tastings, I thought he poured tasters like a champion. I actually had to ask him to pour me a slightly smaller portion as I had to drive, which brought a tear to my eye.
The wine was excellent – he gave us a 2007 Barbaresco, then a 2006 and 2005 Barolo. All were brilliant, and we were forced to buy two (I hate when that happens) – a Barbaresco to drink on our patio in Asti and a Barolo to take home with us.
We were there for a fair bit of time, and it was just about lunch time when we were finished. Enrico recommended a restaurant in the town just across the valley from the winery – Restaurant Italian in Serralunga. There were two menus – we chose the €20 option which included antipasti, a first course, a main course, and desert. As there was no listing of what each was, we weren’t really sure what we were going to get. The antipasti turned out to be sliced veal with a local tuna and mayonnaise sauce (which doesn’t sound like it would be good at all on veal, but was actually really good). First course was ravioli for Jamie and nebiolo risotto (nebiolo is a variety of local wine). Both again were very tasty. Mains was rabbit (coniglio sounds better than Bugs Bunny), and dessert was panna cotta and tiramisu.
Full and feeling very pleased with ourselves we walked back to the car to continue our driving tour. Both of us were a bit surprised with the heat – it seemed to have gotten significantly hotter while we were having lunch. The thermometer in the car confirmed it: 32°C on the 4th of June. I’m glad we had air conditioning.
Next on the itinerary was the town of Barolo itself. We found a parking lot just on the edge of town, but of course it was full. There was a sign for more parking further down the hill, so I pointed Francesca in that direction. Unfortunately they have decided to rip up and repave almost all of Barolo, so we were quickly turned around and headed back up to the main road. Still no parking in the lot, however there was a spot on the side of the highway (or whatever it was). I quickly darted over and managed to do a half-decent job of parallel parking, despite being on the wrong side of the road (I’ve re-learned how to drive in Britain on the left, and am finding being back on this side very disconcerting).
We walked down the hill we’d just driven back up and into Barolo. A quick look around revealed almost nothing of any interest – a few wine shops, oddly a museum dedicated solely to corkscrews (which they charged €4 to go into – a bit steep to look at a bunch of old corkscrews in my view), and a whole lot of construction. Maybe it would have been better without the lorries, cranes, and dirt everywhere.
We hiked back up the hill in the sweltering heat (we live in London, anything other than cold drizzle is sweltering to us) and got back in the car, air-con cranked up to the max. We drove down the hill and back up again to see the view from the top of La Morra, as it’s one of the highest spots around and Enrico had said that the views from up there were the best. He was right – from the medieval fortification looked down the entire Barolo valley, all the way to the Alps in the far distance. We thought about stopping for another bottle of wine, but were parked in a customer parking space in front of the local grocery store (we’d been in to buy water, so we were technically customers) and felt a bit guilty about using their reserved space, so we headed back down the hill.
We’d done a fair bit of driving so far, and were about an hour away from home, so we decided to head back and have a glass of wine on the balcony while we waited for a reasonable hour to go for dinner. It turned out to be a very good plan.
I didn’t feel like doing much more driving today, so we chose another of the recommended restaurants – this one quite close to the B&B. It is one of the oddest-located fine dining establishments I’ve ever seen – wedged behind a gas station on the road between Asti and Torino.
La Grotta is evidently one of the most famous restaurants in Asti (according to their literature), and sure enough, on the wall in the lobby is a picture of Pope John Paul II shaking hands with the chefs and the menu they served him. I figure if it’s good enough for the Pope, it’s good enough for me.
We felt a bit under-dressed, as all of the waiters were in white dinner jackets, and everything was served on trolleys – very old-fashioned and elegant. Everyone tells us that Piedmont is known for their antipasti, so we had the “Mixed Lean Meats” as it was described on the menu. It turned out to be a trolley laden with all sorts of delicious treats that the waiter served us a selection of – including: boiled egg with mayonnaise, a sort of potato and tuna salad, beats, veal with tuna mayonnaise, veal tongue with sauce (we didn’t find out that’s what it was until after we’d eaten it), tomato and mozzarella, and others.
We split a first course of baked lasagne, which was quite tasty; although I think based on the size of our main courses we could have easily skipped it. Jamie went for the veal Milanese (otherwise known a schnitzel), and I had saltimbocca alla romana (veal with sage and prosciutto). Both were excellent but GIANT – double or triple what I would have expected at home. We managed to eat a good chunk of both dishes but neither of us could finish; there was just too much. The waiter brought the dessert trolley over, and everything looked so appetizing. We were both too full to really think about it, and we had to decline. A tragedy. I found room for a decaf espresso, but even than was a stretch.
We drove back to the B&B and set up on the balcony for a final glass of wine. I almost immediately got a giant mosquito bite on my toe, which hurts like hell – hate those little flying bastards. We quickly adjourned inside and closed the screen – discretion being the better part of valour. A slightly itchy and swollen end to an excellent and very filling day.
Jun 5th, 2010, 11:28 AM
#35
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thanks for going o with your report. I love it! Reading of your adventures and meals is great fun. Your feelings about mosquitos are mine to a tee! However, I might add a few scurrilous adjectives.
Jun 6th, 2010, 08:41 AM
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Day Eight – Bring On The Bull
Today we had decided to head into the biggest city in the area – Torino (better known as Turin outside of Italy). We got up and had a relatively quick breakfast, again getting excellent directions and advice from B&B host Tim before setting out in trusty Francesca.
We drove for what seemed like ages before finding the Autostrada, however it was fairly quick from there. The people that were at the B&B mentioned this morning that they’d been through Torino the night before but hadn’t stopped as they didn’t really get a good feeling about it, so we weren’t sure what to expect. We did manage to get lost a few times despite the directions as we drove it, but found the large underground parking complex at Piazza Vittorio Veneto without too much trouble (given that we get lost wherever we go). Driving into town, Torino seemed pretty average – a bit industrial on the outskirts, a bit convoluted and busy as we got closer to the interesting bits.
We dropped off the car at the parking complex and headed out on foot. We were immediately entranced by the covered porticos leading up the road – apparently Torino is known for them. The architecture reminded us quite a bit of Bordeaux, which in turn reminded us of Paris, for some reason. All of the shops along Via Po from the parking lot to Piazza Castello where absolutely beautiful – ornate farmacias and shops that evidently used to be much more grand than they currently are.
There was some sort of event going on in Torino for the weekend, and much preparation was underway as we arrived. The police were out in full force, all three branches as far as we could tell (there are two federal branches apparently, and the Torino force themselves). Despite that, we found our way to the beginning of a walking tour in a guidebook provided by Tim.
Torino is a beautiful city. We had a great time wandering around before finding a place for lunch in the medieval twisty windy part of town (no idea where it was now). We found on the menu a sort of Caprese salad that consisted of a sliced tomato and a 250 gram ball of real buffalo mozzarella. The pizza and bruschetta seemed somewhat secondary to that to be honest.
We continued the walking tour after lunch, but it was starting to get quite hot. Not long after, we stopped at the Piazza Della Consolata and went into the Santuarino Della Consolata chuch to cool off and look at the spectacular interior. It is definitely worth a visit in – ornate doesn’t even begin to describe it – easily one of the most beautiful churches we’ve ever been in (and we’ve seen a few).
After the church, we felt a quick drink was in order. Conveniently located directly across the Piazza was Al Bicerin, a famous local coffee shop. Jamie had a glass of local bubbly and I had the drink named after the shop (or vice versa, I’m not sure which) – coffee, chocolate, and cream – very tasty.
The temperature was pushing 32°C again, and it was really quite humid in the city. Both Jamie and I were pretty much done with the walking and sightseeing, so we headed back to the car and it’s beautiful air conditioning – how did people live before that sweet invention?
Jamie wanted to drive up to Superga – a church on a hill just across from Torino, from which apparently you can get the most amazing views of the city and all the way to the Alps. The drive up was entertaining (if you like driving – loads of switchbacks up a very steep hill), although the haze over Piedmont prevented us from actually seeing the Alps. I can imagine that if it was a really clear day, the view would be amazing. On the other hand, I saw loads of clearly insane cyclists riding up the mountain, and loads of REALLY nice motorcycles at the top.
We took the back roads route on our trip back to Asti, avoiding the Autostrada. Not the most scenic drive through many of the little towns on route, but entertaining nonetheless. It turns out that Italian rural local radio is every bit as bad as rural French local radio, however we can’t understand as much of it. Oddly, this is the first trip to Italy in the last 7 years that we haven’t heard that damn song by “Evanescence” – we tend to hear that almost incessantly every time we’re away from home.
We stopped for a take-away pizza at Riostorante Villa Fernando, just up the road from Ville Sampagiuta. Evidently they don’t get a lot of tourists stopping in (it is way out of the way from anything) and were very excited that they had actual real live Canadians in the shop. We ordered our two takeaway pizzas and a bottle of wine, and were given a few postcards from Asti as a memento – they only requested that we send a postcard back from Canada to them (we didn’t have the heart or level of Italian to explain that we don’t actually live in Canada anymore – we’re going to get our parents to sent a post card from Canada on our behalf).
We sat on the patio of the B&B to eat our pizza and enjoy the late afternoon/early evening sun. The pizza was really quite tasty, and the view over the trees and surrounding hills was amazing. We spent quite a bit of time sitting and relaxing, before heading inside (we’d run out of wine, and needed to open another bottle).
We sat in the communal sitting room and enjoyed a good portion of the bottle of wine from Rivetto before another new couple staying at Villa Sampaguita joined us. Both are in I.T., so we of course got on quite well (Jamie may have felt a little out of place). Tim provided us with yet another bottle, this time of wine which he had made from his own vineyard. We may have stayed up a bit too late, however we had an excellent time. I can’t think of a better way to end a day – a very tasty bottle of wine in Italy, having a conversation with new friends.
Today we had decided to head into the biggest city in the area – Torino (better known as Turin outside of Italy). We got up and had a relatively quick breakfast, again getting excellent directions and advice from B&B host Tim before setting out in trusty Francesca.
We drove for what seemed like ages before finding the Autostrada, however it was fairly quick from there. The people that were at the B&B mentioned this morning that they’d been through Torino the night before but hadn’t stopped as they didn’t really get a good feeling about it, so we weren’t sure what to expect. We did manage to get lost a few times despite the directions as we drove it, but found the large underground parking complex at Piazza Vittorio Veneto without too much trouble (given that we get lost wherever we go). Driving into town, Torino seemed pretty average – a bit industrial on the outskirts, a bit convoluted and busy as we got closer to the interesting bits.
We dropped off the car at the parking complex and headed out on foot. We were immediately entranced by the covered porticos leading up the road – apparently Torino is known for them. The architecture reminded us quite a bit of Bordeaux, which in turn reminded us of Paris, for some reason. All of the shops along Via Po from the parking lot to Piazza Castello where absolutely beautiful – ornate farmacias and shops that evidently used to be much more grand than they currently are.
There was some sort of event going on in Torino for the weekend, and much preparation was underway as we arrived. The police were out in full force, all three branches as far as we could tell (there are two federal branches apparently, and the Torino force themselves). Despite that, we found our way to the beginning of a walking tour in a guidebook provided by Tim.
Torino is a beautiful city. We had a great time wandering around before finding a place for lunch in the medieval twisty windy part of town (no idea where it was now). We found on the menu a sort of Caprese salad that consisted of a sliced tomato and a 250 gram ball of real buffalo mozzarella. The pizza and bruschetta seemed somewhat secondary to that to be honest.
We continued the walking tour after lunch, but it was starting to get quite hot. Not long after, we stopped at the Piazza Della Consolata and went into the Santuarino Della Consolata chuch to cool off and look at the spectacular interior. It is definitely worth a visit in – ornate doesn’t even begin to describe it – easily one of the most beautiful churches we’ve ever been in (and we’ve seen a few).
After the church, we felt a quick drink was in order. Conveniently located directly across the Piazza was Al Bicerin, a famous local coffee shop. Jamie had a glass of local bubbly and I had the drink named after the shop (or vice versa, I’m not sure which) – coffee, chocolate, and cream – very tasty.
The temperature was pushing 32°C again, and it was really quite humid in the city. Both Jamie and I were pretty much done with the walking and sightseeing, so we headed back to the car and it’s beautiful air conditioning – how did people live before that sweet invention?
Jamie wanted to drive up to Superga – a church on a hill just across from Torino, from which apparently you can get the most amazing views of the city and all the way to the Alps. The drive up was entertaining (if you like driving – loads of switchbacks up a very steep hill), although the haze over Piedmont prevented us from actually seeing the Alps. I can imagine that if it was a really clear day, the view would be amazing. On the other hand, I saw loads of clearly insane cyclists riding up the mountain, and loads of REALLY nice motorcycles at the top.
We took the back roads route on our trip back to Asti, avoiding the Autostrada. Not the most scenic drive through many of the little towns on route, but entertaining nonetheless. It turns out that Italian rural local radio is every bit as bad as rural French local radio, however we can’t understand as much of it. Oddly, this is the first trip to Italy in the last 7 years that we haven’t heard that damn song by “Evanescence” – we tend to hear that almost incessantly every time we’re away from home.
We stopped for a take-away pizza at Riostorante Villa Fernando, just up the road from Ville Sampagiuta. Evidently they don’t get a lot of tourists stopping in (it is way out of the way from anything) and were very excited that they had actual real live Canadians in the shop. We ordered our two takeaway pizzas and a bottle of wine, and were given a few postcards from Asti as a memento – they only requested that we send a postcard back from Canada to them (we didn’t have the heart or level of Italian to explain that we don’t actually live in Canada anymore – we’re going to get our parents to sent a post card from Canada on our behalf).
We sat on the patio of the B&B to eat our pizza and enjoy the late afternoon/early evening sun. The pizza was really quite tasty, and the view over the trees and surrounding hills was amazing. We spent quite a bit of time sitting and relaxing, before heading inside (we’d run out of wine, and needed to open another bottle).
We sat in the communal sitting room and enjoyed a good portion of the bottle of wine from Rivetto before another new couple staying at Villa Sampaguita joined us. Both are in I.T., so we of course got on quite well (Jamie may have felt a little out of place). Tim provided us with yet another bottle, this time of wine which he had made from his own vineyard. We may have stayed up a bit too late, however we had an excellent time. I can’t think of a better way to end a day – a very tasty bottle of wine in Italy, having a conversation with new friends.
Jun 7th, 2010, 12:43 PM
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Day Nine – It Got Hotter
After receiving our daily maps and instructions from Tim, we hit the road at the relatively early hour of 10:30, pointing Francesca back in the direction this time of Barbaresco. We got slightly lost again in San Diamano for the second time, as the road through the centre was still closed to pedestrians. There’s an old saying...something about those who cannot remember the past...
Despite the minor directional challenges, we made it to the town of Barbaresco in fairly good time. Francesca was much more comfortable since I discovered I could lower the seat – apparently whoever had it before me was very short. Typical that it took me until the penultimate day to realize that having my hair brush the roof wasn’t how the designers of this particular model had intended me to drive.
We parked Italian-style when we arrived in Barbaresco – up against a wall on the side of the road, not taking into account traffic patterns or parking regulations. To be fair, there were a row of cars parked there, not just us, but it still didn’t look particularly legal. On the other hand, it did seem normal, so we went with it.
Barbaresco turned out to be a quaint little town with a ruined ancient tower at the top of the hill with panoramic views over the valley below, a church with a loud bell tower, and loads of little bars and cafes. We hiked up the steep incline (okay, sauntered up the slight hill) to take in the views, then decided that we were thirsty. As we’d sampled Barolo in the Barolo valley earlier, what could be better than sipping Barbaresco in the village of Barbaresco?
We’d heard that one of the local wine shops poured slightly more generous glasses than the other, and had a brilliant view from their patio, so of course we stopped in there. The old guy running the tasting at Boffa winery was very excited to have us, and spoke high-speed enthusiastic Italian at us non-stop while pointing at his wine description folder and the bottles arranged around it. We adopted our normal strategy for high-speed enthusiastic Italian – grinning and nodding appreciatively at every pause.
This recommended and effective strategy resulted in us being sat down at one of the tables on the patio, two very large glasses of wine being placed in front of us, along with a fairly large bowl of cheese and a container of those skinny bread sticks that seem to accompany everything food and/or wine related around here.
The wine was almost as good as the view, and after sampling the two varieties on offer (initially the 2006 vintage, but after seeing how much we’d enjoyed it, the old guy insisted that we try the 2005 as well), we were forced to buy a bottle. We spent quite a bit of time sipping the wine and just relaxing, soaking up the scenery and the heat, which seemed to be steadily building, along with the humidity.
After lingering about as long as we could, we walked back down the hill to the car, which had become a little oven. I opened the door and the wave of heat which poured out forced me back a step – we had to open all the doors to let it cool off for a bit before we could get inside. When we finally did, the thermostat in the car read 39°C – blooming HOT. As we got driving, it dropped to 36°C which was a bit better, although still hotter than I think I’ve ever felt it in London.
It was about 1pm at this point and we were both feeling a bit peckish, so we drove to a nearby restaurant called Rabaya. For no apparent reason, we were the only ones there, which was odd. It was a little out of the way, but the food was excellent and fairly reasonably priced. We went for the four mixed antipasti, then we shared a bowl of slightly red gnocchi in an asparagus sauce – a bit odd, but actually quite tasty.
Lunch taken care of, we hit the road again, mindful of the large black clouds gathering in the distance. The heat seemed more oppressive and I’m sure the humidity had jumped again – perfect conditions for a classic thunder and lightning storm. We drove towards Neive, expecting the skies to open above us at any moment.
They didn’t, and we walked around Neive for a little while, taking a few photos and generally poking about the place. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot going on in town on Sunday afternoon, and after a fairly short while we got back in the car and headed for our third stop of the day, the oddly named town of Mango.
Mango turned out to be actually quite difficult to find, but after a few false starts we made it up the top of the hill and found a place to park. We were immediately underwhelmed by Mango. Nothing seemed to be open other than a slightly dodgy cafe filled with local old guys who stared at us every time we walked past. We’d been told about the enoteca in Mango being particularly good so we thought we’d give that a go. The guy who was supposed to be working there was more interesting in talking to his girlfriend who was visiting (or at least to a girl who he possibly hoped would be his girlfriend, at least for a little while) and thus more or less ignored us. We looked at the very odd art in the back of the room and left.
We had hopes of finding another bar, other than the one in the parking lot with the old guy. In our efforts for liquid refreshment, we spent a while wandering around Mango looking for a likely location, but were ultimately disappointed. We got back in the car and started driving back to Asti, to enjoy our bottle of Barbaresco on the balcony.
Dinner tonight was to be served at Villa Sampaguita, cooked by Rina for our delectation. We went downstairs at 7pm and meet up with Sunil and his wife (the other guests at the B&B) and chatted for a bit (taking some time to inspect the geese, the rabbit, and the chickens) before dinner was served.
The food was excellent, much better than I’d expected. We started with an antipasti dish of grilled aubergine with fresh tomato, olive oil, and pine nuts as one course, and grilled peppers with the local tuna sauce as the other option. That was followed by ravioli filled with some sort of green filling (I’m pretty sure there was some sort of swiss chard type vegetable in it, as well as a bit of some sort of soft cheese. We then had chicken poached in white wine with olives and sun-dried tomato, finished off finally with homemade semifreddo.
All delicious, and all served with glasses of Tim’s homemade organic wine, produced from grapes harvested in the vineyard on the property.
Despite a few rumbled of thunder in the distance and a couple of very large drops of rain, the weather held out. I’d been hoping for the drama of a full lightning storm, which would have at least cleared the haze from the sky, but no such luck. On the other hand, it’s becoming summer in London, which means a few more months of cold and drizzle, so that’s something to look forward to when we get home.
Tomorrow is our last day in Italy for this trip, and neither of us are looking forward to going home. Beyond not wanting to go back to work, we’re both enjoying our time here too much. Tomorrow we have more vineyard visits and probably a tasty lunch planned before our early evening flight back to London. Should be a good day.
After receiving our daily maps and instructions from Tim, we hit the road at the relatively early hour of 10:30, pointing Francesca back in the direction this time of Barbaresco. We got slightly lost again in San Diamano for the second time, as the road through the centre was still closed to pedestrians. There’s an old saying...something about those who cannot remember the past...
Despite the minor directional challenges, we made it to the town of Barbaresco in fairly good time. Francesca was much more comfortable since I discovered I could lower the seat – apparently whoever had it before me was very short. Typical that it took me until the penultimate day to realize that having my hair brush the roof wasn’t how the designers of this particular model had intended me to drive.
We parked Italian-style when we arrived in Barbaresco – up against a wall on the side of the road, not taking into account traffic patterns or parking regulations. To be fair, there were a row of cars parked there, not just us, but it still didn’t look particularly legal. On the other hand, it did seem normal, so we went with it.
Barbaresco turned out to be a quaint little town with a ruined ancient tower at the top of the hill with panoramic views over the valley below, a church with a loud bell tower, and loads of little bars and cafes. We hiked up the steep incline (okay, sauntered up the slight hill) to take in the views, then decided that we were thirsty. As we’d sampled Barolo in the Barolo valley earlier, what could be better than sipping Barbaresco in the village of Barbaresco?
We’d heard that one of the local wine shops poured slightly more generous glasses than the other, and had a brilliant view from their patio, so of course we stopped in there. The old guy running the tasting at Boffa winery was very excited to have us, and spoke high-speed enthusiastic Italian at us non-stop while pointing at his wine description folder and the bottles arranged around it. We adopted our normal strategy for high-speed enthusiastic Italian – grinning and nodding appreciatively at every pause.
This recommended and effective strategy resulted in us being sat down at one of the tables on the patio, two very large glasses of wine being placed in front of us, along with a fairly large bowl of cheese and a container of those skinny bread sticks that seem to accompany everything food and/or wine related around here.
The wine was almost as good as the view, and after sampling the two varieties on offer (initially the 2006 vintage, but after seeing how much we’d enjoyed it, the old guy insisted that we try the 2005 as well), we were forced to buy a bottle. We spent quite a bit of time sipping the wine and just relaxing, soaking up the scenery and the heat, which seemed to be steadily building, along with the humidity.
After lingering about as long as we could, we walked back down the hill to the car, which had become a little oven. I opened the door and the wave of heat which poured out forced me back a step – we had to open all the doors to let it cool off for a bit before we could get inside. When we finally did, the thermostat in the car read 39°C – blooming HOT. As we got driving, it dropped to 36°C which was a bit better, although still hotter than I think I’ve ever felt it in London.
It was about 1pm at this point and we were both feeling a bit peckish, so we drove to a nearby restaurant called Rabaya. For no apparent reason, we were the only ones there, which was odd. It was a little out of the way, but the food was excellent and fairly reasonably priced. We went for the four mixed antipasti, then we shared a bowl of slightly red gnocchi in an asparagus sauce – a bit odd, but actually quite tasty.
Lunch taken care of, we hit the road again, mindful of the large black clouds gathering in the distance. The heat seemed more oppressive and I’m sure the humidity had jumped again – perfect conditions for a classic thunder and lightning storm. We drove towards Neive, expecting the skies to open above us at any moment.
They didn’t, and we walked around Neive for a little while, taking a few photos and generally poking about the place. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot going on in town on Sunday afternoon, and after a fairly short while we got back in the car and headed for our third stop of the day, the oddly named town of Mango.
Mango turned out to be actually quite difficult to find, but after a few false starts we made it up the top of the hill and found a place to park. We were immediately underwhelmed by Mango. Nothing seemed to be open other than a slightly dodgy cafe filled with local old guys who stared at us every time we walked past. We’d been told about the enoteca in Mango being particularly good so we thought we’d give that a go. The guy who was supposed to be working there was more interesting in talking to his girlfriend who was visiting (or at least to a girl who he possibly hoped would be his girlfriend, at least for a little while) and thus more or less ignored us. We looked at the very odd art in the back of the room and left.
We had hopes of finding another bar, other than the one in the parking lot with the old guy. In our efforts for liquid refreshment, we spent a while wandering around Mango looking for a likely location, but were ultimately disappointed. We got back in the car and started driving back to Asti, to enjoy our bottle of Barbaresco on the balcony.
Dinner tonight was to be served at Villa Sampaguita, cooked by Rina for our delectation. We went downstairs at 7pm and meet up with Sunil and his wife (the other guests at the B&B) and chatted for a bit (taking some time to inspect the geese, the rabbit, and the chickens) before dinner was served.
The food was excellent, much better than I’d expected. We started with an antipasti dish of grilled aubergine with fresh tomato, olive oil, and pine nuts as one course, and grilled peppers with the local tuna sauce as the other option. That was followed by ravioli filled with some sort of green filling (I’m pretty sure there was some sort of swiss chard type vegetable in it, as well as a bit of some sort of soft cheese. We then had chicken poached in white wine with olives and sun-dried tomato, finished off finally with homemade semifreddo.
All delicious, and all served with glasses of Tim’s homemade organic wine, produced from grapes harvested in the vineyard on the property.
Despite a few rumbled of thunder in the distance and a couple of very large drops of rain, the weather held out. I’d been hoping for the drama of a full lightning storm, which would have at least cleared the haze from the sky, but no such luck. On the other hand, it’s becoming summer in London, which means a few more months of cold and drizzle, so that’s something to look forward to when we get home.
Tomorrow is our last day in Italy for this trip, and neither of us are looking forward to going home. Beyond not wanting to go back to work, we’re both enjoying our time here too much. Tomorrow we have more vineyard visits and probably a tasty lunch planned before our early evening flight back to London. Should be a good day.
Jun 7th, 2010, 12:44 PM
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Day Ten – The Lunch To End All Lunches, Then Home
The sky was overcast this morning, for the first time since we arrived in Italy. We spent some time packing, then went downstairs for a quiet breakfast. After munching through the usual, we went back upstairs to put the last of our stuff in our bags and dragged it all down to the car.
We headed north, in the general direction of Torino, to spend the day exploring hill towns to the east of Torino, per Tim’s recommendation. We first stopped at Cocconato, a cute little village perched on it’s hill. Unlike a lot of the smaller towns we’d driven through, this one seemed a bit busier even though it was pretty tiny. We stopped at the little cafe for a cappuccino to see us through the rest of the day, and to waste a bit of time before lunch.
Next we drove down the hill, following the signs for the Conbipel factory outlet – they really outdid themselves with the signage. We found Conbipel without any problems, but it took us a minute or two to find the restaurant, despite the fact that we drove past it twice without noticing it. In our defense, we were distracted by the sheer oddness of Conbipel – three or four giant warehouse looking buildings with huge parking lots all around, completely full of cars. Despite the number of cars around, there was no traffic and no people in sight. Spooky – looked like the beginning of a zombie-attack movie.
We finally found Restaurant Caccina Rosengana and went in to ask about a table for lunch. It was noon, but they weren’t quite ready – they asked us to come back in 15 minutes. Oddly, the woman we spoke to didn’t speak very much English, but was fluent in French, so we managed quite well without Italian or English at all.
While we waited, we walked over to the closest Conbipel outlet store and went in, not quite sure what to expect. What we found we definitely were NOT expecting from a factory outlet. It looked exactly like a big North American department store, full of mens and women’s clothes. The only real difference was that everything seemed to be own-brand, and other than a bunch of employees folding clothes, it was completely empty. I kept a close eye out for zombies, as you can never be too sure in these sorts of situations.
We wasted our required 15 minutes and walked back next door to the restaurant, where we already had a table waiting for us, complete with a basket of bread and a stack of grissini (really thin bread sticks). I sampled a bunch of the grissini as they are hugely addictive, which in retrospect was a mistake. We ordered the “typical” menu which included antipasti and a few courses, as all good Italian meals do. We were looking forward to it, but were somewhat surprised by the sheer number of courses we had – eight in all, plus coffee at the end.
Lunch included (I’m documenting, so that we’ll remember): bresola wrapped around some sort of a soft cheese/cream cheese type filling, followed by spinach and ricotta balls in carrot pure, then asparagus mousse in a puff pastry shell, with sliced veal with tuna sauce to round out the antipasti course. Yes, that was just antipasti. The first course was split in two – ravioli filled with veal, pork, and rabbit in a sage butter, then spaghetti in a tomato and sausage sauce. Our main course was roasted veal in a butter and aromatic herb sauce, with mixed fresh veggies. Finally, for desert we had a tasting plate of three treats – a chocolate panna cotta type thing, a cherry tart, and a very tasty semifreddo. I’m feeling full again just writing it all down.
After our epic lunch, we were running a bit late (it took a glorious two and a half hours, all told), so we decided to skip the trip to the abbey up the road and just head straight to the airport. We programmed Tracy the satnav and set off, very full and very happy with our choice of lunch venues.
We made it to the airport with only a little confusion – Tracy didn’t feel like following the same route as the signs appeared to want us to go, but she got us there in the end. We dropped off the car, checked in and dropped the bag, and went through security. Both of us are very sad that we have to leave Italy and are definitely not looking forward to going back to real life tomorrow, although I’m looking forward to sleeping in our own bed again. Until next time...
The sky was overcast this morning, for the first time since we arrived in Italy. We spent some time packing, then went downstairs for a quiet breakfast. After munching through the usual, we went back upstairs to put the last of our stuff in our bags and dragged it all down to the car.
We headed north, in the general direction of Torino, to spend the day exploring hill towns to the east of Torino, per Tim’s recommendation. We first stopped at Cocconato, a cute little village perched on it’s hill. Unlike a lot of the smaller towns we’d driven through, this one seemed a bit busier even though it was pretty tiny. We stopped at the little cafe for a cappuccino to see us through the rest of the day, and to waste a bit of time before lunch.
Next we drove down the hill, following the signs for the Conbipel factory outlet – they really outdid themselves with the signage. We found Conbipel without any problems, but it took us a minute or two to find the restaurant, despite the fact that we drove past it twice without noticing it. In our defense, we were distracted by the sheer oddness of Conbipel – three or four giant warehouse looking buildings with huge parking lots all around, completely full of cars. Despite the number of cars around, there was no traffic and no people in sight. Spooky – looked like the beginning of a zombie-attack movie.
We finally found Restaurant Caccina Rosengana and went in to ask about a table for lunch. It was noon, but they weren’t quite ready – they asked us to come back in 15 minutes. Oddly, the woman we spoke to didn’t speak very much English, but was fluent in French, so we managed quite well without Italian or English at all.
While we waited, we walked over to the closest Conbipel outlet store and went in, not quite sure what to expect. What we found we definitely were NOT expecting from a factory outlet. It looked exactly like a big North American department store, full of mens and women’s clothes. The only real difference was that everything seemed to be own-brand, and other than a bunch of employees folding clothes, it was completely empty. I kept a close eye out for zombies, as you can never be too sure in these sorts of situations.
We wasted our required 15 minutes and walked back next door to the restaurant, where we already had a table waiting for us, complete with a basket of bread and a stack of grissini (really thin bread sticks). I sampled a bunch of the grissini as they are hugely addictive, which in retrospect was a mistake. We ordered the “typical” menu which included antipasti and a few courses, as all good Italian meals do. We were looking forward to it, but were somewhat surprised by the sheer number of courses we had – eight in all, plus coffee at the end.
Lunch included (I’m documenting, so that we’ll remember): bresola wrapped around some sort of a soft cheese/cream cheese type filling, followed by spinach and ricotta balls in carrot pure, then asparagus mousse in a puff pastry shell, with sliced veal with tuna sauce to round out the antipasti course. Yes, that was just antipasti. The first course was split in two – ravioli filled with veal, pork, and rabbit in a sage butter, then spaghetti in a tomato and sausage sauce. Our main course was roasted veal in a butter and aromatic herb sauce, with mixed fresh veggies. Finally, for desert we had a tasting plate of three treats – a chocolate panna cotta type thing, a cherry tart, and a very tasty semifreddo. I’m feeling full again just writing it all down.
After our epic lunch, we were running a bit late (it took a glorious two and a half hours, all told), so we decided to skip the trip to the abbey up the road and just head straight to the airport. We programmed Tracy the satnav and set off, very full and very happy with our choice of lunch venues.
We made it to the airport with only a little confusion – Tracy didn’t feel like following the same route as the signs appeared to want us to go, but she got us there in the end. We dropped off the car, checked in and dropped the bag, and went through security. Both of us are very sad that we have to leave Italy and are definitely not looking forward to going back to real life tomorrow, although I’m looking forward to sleeping in our own bed again. Until next time...
