Lunch and San Gimignano
Arriving at Petreni’s house, I sat down for lunch as part of a “Best of Siena,” consisting of 7 dishes, across four courses, all four of each had its own accompanied wine. Food and wine from Italy’s most famous region are intensely delicious, and this author can report no surprises.
Crostini con pâté di milza, or little toasted bread slices covered in a thick sauce of herbs and spleen meat. Tonno del Chianti, or pork cut and cooked like tuna and served in olive oil. Ribolita con cipolle rosse, or bean soup with red onions. Trippa alla Senese, or tripe in a Siena-style sauce, and Pici al ragu di cinta Senese: hand-rolled pasta, similar to German spätzle, in a red meat sauce with slices of ham. After all that came a 10-centimeter thick bistecca alla Fiorentina, grilled for 7 minutes and served rare.
We started with a Vernaccia di San Gimignano, a white wine with low sweetness and acidity that comes from the province we were sitting in. Next was from Bolgheri a sort of “Best of Toscano blend” called Lagone. With much respect and humility, I can calmly say this is the best red wine I’ve had in my life, which has included 15 months of Italian citizenship.
The pairing with the pasta dish was a Chianti reserva from 2017, which ditches the normal Chianti acidity for a smoother, yet fuller-bodied red that was exceptional.
After this monumental lunch, Sandra led our merry band on an excursion to San Gimignano, pronounced “Jimin-Yano,” a locale that she described as a “typical Tuscan medieval town”. While those words ring true, and San Gimignano is not a famous Italian destination, it would nevertheless be one of the most important national cultural sites if it were located in most other countries in the world.
The immaculately preserved walls and Medieval architecture, all in brown brick perched on top of a high hill, it’s the sort of Tuscan version of the best neighborhood in a city for bars and restaurants.
Toscano rustico
All of this extraordinary beauty and gluttony was always served or paired with an intense quaintness. Walking along dirt tracks in a field with Gustavo, an Argentinian immigrant who took up residence in Siena after studying in Spain, Russia, the U.S., and Bologna, abandoned properties blended in with the landscape, and wild edibles could be collected straight from the fields if you knew where to look for.
On a morning walk I was greeted by a passing runner in a way the Polentoni, or Northern Italians, simply don’t do. This is not to cast judgment on my neighbors, but only an observation on the way Tuscany has raised her sons and daughters.
The B&B, Il Ceppo, was operated by two men who along with piling on the kindness, piled on a lot of free stuff. I’m not even sure what I paid for. Their breakfast was represented by endless mountains of food, that while being properly Tuscan, was as varied as pesto and anchovies with red wine, next to coconut cake and coffee, and seemed to me to be a mix of many different cultures together.
Meeting locals, going for walks in a Norwegian-style “friluftslyf” across the hills, an older and yet unchanged splendor mentioned above begins to reveal itself. It’s something in the air, in the color of the brick and the dirt. You’ll notice it if you let yourself.
To glimpse the older, traditional, unaltered beating heart and essence of a country or people usually takes a stroke of luck, or the greatest effort, but Tuscany is different. WaL
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