■ 27 April 2014 by James Martin
The more you get immersed into the amazing food on the boot, the more you realize that you can exist in a high state of Foodie bliss for weeks without actually cooking anything. Italians are always preserving, conserving, packing good edibles in oil, and foraging for tasty weeds meant to be eaten just as they come from God’s green earth.
So our little food tour group wedges it’s way into the tiny room with the three tables and a little stand-up bar that makes up the entire interior of Tastevere KmZero. A couple of young guys run the place. There is no stove. They only use products from local farmers. Lazio has a lot of local farmers.
Lorenzo carefully unwrapped a tiny package and told me to take a single thread of saffron and lay it upon my tongue. “It’s to get your palate ready for the food,” he said in perfect English.
That did it. We then ate things like salami with wild herb flowers and DOP honey dripped over all. As you can see in the picture above, there’s a balanced meal in each plate, from your roughage to your protein, all local, all uncooked.
There are even locally produced artisan beer (and wine, of course).
While we munched in amazement at the variety of tastes hammering our palates, a regular named Giuseppe was introduced to us. A shepherd, he spoke of the transhumance, the seasonal movement of sheep from the mountains to the sea, and explained the benefits of the meandering lamb: the fat, compared to that of a penned sheep eating straw, has far less cholesterol. I always like finding out facts like this because it means we don’t have to rely on the moral argument entirely. You know, “The sheep like it so we should do it.” The fact is that animals raised right, doing what they’d do if there wasn’t a shepherd and his dog around, are tastier, healthier and offer significant health benefits up the food chain. It’s not due to a random draw that the good shepherd became a symbol of righteousness in early Christianity. Too bad we’ve forgotten. It’s in bad taste that we’ve done so.
Vicolo de’ cinque 30/A, Trastevere
tel: 06 95584404
You should probably reserve. The place is a hit remember, and there’s only three tables.
You can also take the food tour we did: The Roman Foodie: Trastevere Locals Food Tour
Location Map for Tastevere KmZero
Italy Travel Toolbox
- All About Italy Rail Passes
- How to Ride Italian Trains (video)
- Italy Maps
- Italy Cities Climate and Weather
- Italy Autostrada Map
- Cinque Terre Hiking Map
■ 25 April 2014 by James Martin
For the last three days I’ve been rooting around in catacombs, I’ve eaten the best food in Trastevere, I’ve been driven over the cobbled streets of Rome in a golf cart—and I’ve stood virtually alone in the Sistine Chapel, with only the hum of the air conditioning to remind me I was in a building with some of the world’s greatest art.
These aren’t those same old tours you used to get 30-40 years ago. You see, after I studied archaeology I wanted to see some of Europe’s great ancient wonders, so I went to Rome and Athens like most people interested in the Classics. I paid for tours and listened to people who had no clue as to what was under their feet. I spent most of every tour rolling my eyes at the fantasies they tried to make me believe. In the end I could have flung a good sized elephant across the room using the ocular musculature I had built from this extreme exercise.
But that was then and this is now. By law, folks wanting to be a guide in Rome today have to be sharp as a tack on every aspect of the culture and civilization since Romulus and Remus. Even Nina, who led our Trastevere food tour, had a Ph.D. in Post Classical Archeology from La Sapienza and showed an abundance of energy that lit up our evening in Rome.
The fabulous Simona of Walks of Italy didn’t just lead us into a crypt and say, “this is what you’re seeing” but described the alternative theories that are popular so that we could understand exactly the path modern research was taking. I’ve visited lots of catacombs in my time, but never have I come away with an understanding of the culture and politics that shaped their evolution as I did after three hours on the Crypts, Bones & Catacombs Underground Tour of Rome with Simona.
Brandon, one of the Roman Guys, gave a fantastic narrative of Rome and the Vatican. Not only that, but he carefully guided us through the streets to all the big Roman sites while at the wheel of an 8 person golf cart. Think your health isn’t good enough for a three hour Rome walking tour? Try the Rome ECO Golf Cart Tour. The “econess” of the golf cart means it can go pretty much anywhere in Rome you can walk, so you miss nothing. You couldn’t do that thirty years ago.
And when an Italian kid points at you and says, “Mama, a golf cart!” you know you’ve arrived.
If you really want to experience the Vatican, nothing can compare to being almost alone inside the museums at dusk, when the windows are flung open for some fantastic slanting light and you’re there with a small group, the cleaning women and a few guards.
Yes, you can almost replicate our experience with the “Vatican Under the Stars Evening Tour on Friday evenings.
Have fun in Rome. We certainly did.
(Disclosure: We were guests of the tour companies mentioned in this article)
■ 15 April 2014 by James Martin
You’ve all heard: Italy is in financial distress. There are no jobs, especially for young people. Italy provides Italian citizens with excellent educations, but these days the educated vanish, heading for where the jobs are. The situation is hopeless.
I’d like you to meet a very interesting man. His name is Luciano Bandinelli. When he stands in front of his shop on the edge of the little town with the strange name you wish you have visited in Tuscany, Colle Val d’Elsa, he nearly bangs his head on the sign.
Yes, Luciano in a way joined the exodus, forsaking the family business in favor of working for a technology company that sent him all over the world. His father wasn’t so pleased. Then one fateful day, on an airplane coming home from a trip to smog-shrouded China, he thought, “What am I doing in this smoggy hell? I live in a place everyone wants to live in. It’s one of the most beautiful places on earth.”
And so he came home again. He joined his father in the business of making glass all it can be. He is a Crystal Master Craftsman. His motto is “passion, tradition, emotion.” Neither he nor I found those attributes in modern technology.
He applies each of those qualities in the crystal he produces, however. I know cut crystal has gone out of fashion. Wine glasses are factory molded and cheap. You make a toast with friends and you “clink” your glasses together, but they no longer ring happy tidings, they don’t even clink—they clunk. You know why?
Because they’re not leaded crystal, that’s why. Touch two crystal glasses together and they ring like a bell—and almost forever (or at least until you give up and take a drink).
What about the lead in the crystal? You’ve heard bad things about it. Let’s tackle that. Italy has a limit to how much lead can be put in the crystal. While lead can leach into acidic liquids that have remained in containers for an extended period of time, the use of crystal wine glasses is quite safe:
For everyday use, no liquid stays in the glass long enough during any meal to leak lead that exceeds EPA standards. This is good news for consumers who can safely use lovely crystal stemware to serve wine, water, and other beverages. ~ Is It Safe to Use Crystal Glasses?
Of course, Luciano makes more than crystal wine glasses. The shop is full of plates, light fixtures, ornaments and other shimmering, hand-crafted and cut crystal items:
La Grotta del Cristallo is a unique Atelier creating original crystal pieces; gifts for special occasions; table decorations; customized engravings made to order.
If you go to the grotta, you can see how all this is done. Luciano has a video that shows the hand cutting of the glass, and he’ll show you how the glass is polished and cut. It’s an amazing thing to see.
I want to tell you to buy things. Lots of things. I want to tell you to support this exodus back to what Italy does best: handmade things that last nearly forever and are well worth a premium price. Why support minimum wage slave production of cheap crap? But I won’t. Just see for yourself. And, you know, I am directing you to a very interesting town.
Find out more on Luciano’s web site: La Grotta dei Cristallo
Colle di Val d’Elsa, literally the hill of the valley of the Elsa river, is spread out on three geographical levels. The top level, the castle, is the oldest. Tourists don’t plan to come here, they see the massive gate and towers and they stop because they are surprised by the sight. There is plenty of parking outside the walls.
If you’re coming to San Gimignano or Volterra by car, Colle di Val d’Elsa makes a fine day or half-day trip. The town lies along the ancient Via Francigena pilgrimage route, which gave it an early market boost. There are only two long roads, a compelling little passageway/tunnel, fine restaurants, a great hotel and apartments, and some interesting little museums, including, in the lower town, one dedicated to crystal. Why? Because 15% of the world’s crystal and 95 percent of Italy’s crystal is produced here, in little Colle di Val d’Elsa! Glass production was introduced in the 17th century by the nobel Usimbardi family. Before that, Colle was known for paper production.
Where to Eat? Cooking Guru Divina Cucina recommends Officina Della Cucina Popolare, just inside the gate you see below called “Porta Nova”. Michelin (and Luciano) recommends Arnolfo, definitely a splurge, also popular (and more affordable) is Il Cardinale inside the Relais Della Rovere.
So here’s the gate that compels passing tourists to enter:
Map of Colle Val d’Elsa and Location of La Grotta del Cristallo
Popular These Days
■ 14 April 2014 by James Martin
They’ve recently announced the stages in the Giro d’Italia for 2014, and I couldn’t help pick my faves for creamy tourist goodness. Stage 4 caught my eye. It starts in my favorite fishing village, Giovinazzo and ends in Bari. Maybe it’s because I’ve just finished an article on the food of Puglia, but this is the stage I’d pick if I could will myself down the Italian peninsula to watch.
From a tourist perspective, there’s a lot to see on this 121 km stage. Maybe you should grab a bike and do the route before the boys in spandex rip through.
Giovinazzo is a historic town on the sea, a fishing village most of the year that becomes a bloated excuse for party-all-night bedlam in the season. Don’t go in August. In the way-off season, if you’re up early and trundle on down to the shore, it’s likely you’ll hear the plaintive song of the Octopus slappers. Otherwise, the port is quite idyllic in the morning. Watching the fishers of Giovinazzo will lower your blood pressure enough to make you want coffee, which is found in any of the many bars around the little port.
From here you can watch the racers zip along the road to a town called Bitonto. Ever heard of it? It’s on the ancient Via Triana ending up in Bari, where the racers will also end up. Visiting the towns along the Via Triana makes for a very interesting historic itinerary.
Even though you’ve probably never heard of it, Bitonto makes a very nice destination for the day. Allow me to quote myself:
The Romanesque cathedral is built over a paleochristian church which you can visit. The ambo, or pulpit and lectern, is a masterpiece of stonecarving made in 1229 (shown on the right). A good virtual tour of the city of Bitonto is found here. Museums to visit include: Galleria Nazionale, Galleria di Arte Contemporanea, Teatro Traetta, and the Museo Archeologico.
After Bitonto, the boys go on to Bari, which used to be a mere stopover for ferries to Greece, but where the slow tourist will find abundant charm among the little streets and alleyways in the old city, where women still make pasta by hand to sell in front of their houses. The port is the site of a lively fish market across from the castle, and the Cathedral of Bari, consecrated in 1292, is a Romanesque marvel that gets exceedingly high marks from folks who review such things—but is overshadowed by the Basilica of St. Nicholas:
Built in 1087 to house the saint’s remains, the church features several different architectural styles and houses a number of art works. The crypt, where the saint’s tomb is kept, has good mosaics.
If Saint Nick isn’t enough for you, you can always go back to watching the Giro. The boys circle the city 8 times—and they haven’t climbed any significant hills so they should be flying. Getting to see them more than once doesn’t happen very often, so take advantage.
The Puglia stage in the Giro should be quite something to see. For a large route map, click here.
■ 12 April 2014 by James Martin
It was a gloriously sunny morning when we walked into the olive grove on the edge of Montestigliano. Our eyes fell upon a the riot of color a bumper year for wildflowers brings to these parts.
Marta’s father, a “cowboy” from the Maremma they call a buttero, collected herbs and mushrooms while he worked, and her grandmother taught her how to cook them. But they get only minor billing, according to Marta.
“Mother Nature is the real teacher,” she admitted.
We strolled through the thick undergrowth behind Marta as she pointed out the edibles in the biomass that we hadn’t clumsily trampled over. Chickweed, poppy leaves, daisies, dandelions, chicory, crepis, wild onion, spring garlic, wild sage, ciccerbitta, and even malva jumped out at her. “Malva” means “bad, go away” in Italian, but fake-named plants can’t fool Marta, who encouraged us to eat the small, tender leaves and flowers.
There was also a good sized clump of stinging nettles. Ortica in Italian, which I like very much. To eat I mean. I’ve worked around nettles a lot, but Marta told me something I didn’t know about them—the sting only comes from the upper, or sun side, of the leaves. You can touch the back of the leaves with impunity—or even with your fingers—and you won’t feel the sting.
When it came time to prepare our haul for lunch, Marta combined the nettles with eggs from the chickens raised at home and made it into the delicious concoction you see on top of the page, a nettle frittata. Other “weed” leaves were sauteed and got stuffed inside simple pastry, and still others, along with flowers, became a salad.
Add a little pasta to the mix flavored with our found herbs and we sat down to another abundant Italian meal.
Marta’s guidance in gathering herbs and cooking with them was part of an experiential travel tour developed by the collaboration of Sharon and Walter of Simple Italy and Luisa and friends at the Agriturismo Montestigliano.
While this spring’s tour is coming to a close, you can plan now for the fall harvest tour.
■ 6 April 2014 by James Martin
So, to begin: we’re a small group of “bloggers” on a little tour of the Val d’Elsa discussing blogging ethics in the restaurant of the Villa San Lucchese while waiting for our primi piatti.
There is a rumble. A big cheese on a little rolling table clatters across the ancient floor tiles, stopping at the head of table. A whole Grana Padana. It was like a new cheese except the top had appeared to be cut off of it and set back in place. Behind the big cheese stood a waiter, smiling broadly and probably sweating just a bit.
After a slight dramatic pause, he removed the top with a flourish. Steam poured out.
That got our attention. The younger giornalisti jumped up with cameras. The clever among us remained cool, nailed to our chairs by a wine-fed lack of will as well as reflexes about as quick as a stick wallowing in mud.
Besides, the light in our little corner was bad. I figure this is because a bunch of people shooting pictures of food in elegant yet public surroundings must be made to pay their pound of flesh.
Thus the clatter of slow shutters filled the air along with the steam emitting from our risotto with zucchini and saffron.
Who needs cucina povera when you can be wowed by your food presentation?
Finally everyone sat down and we could taste it. Smooth, creamy, and dense, perfumed with saffron, a local ingredient. And there were those cheese scrapings the texture of which resembled the surface of a scoop of ice cream, er, gelato.
And the Hotel Villa San Lucchese is a very real villa, except it isn’t serviced by nameless wage slaves. The family behind this spectacular property makes you feel as if you were a guest in their home. Marco is the quintessential host, manning the front desk, holding the umbrella for folks heading to the breakfast room in the rain, telling us of the history of their restoration of the place. Check out: Hotel Villa San Lucchese in the beautiful Chianti landscape outside Poggibonsi.
Disclaimer: I was a guest of the Villa San Lucchese as part of a blog tour of Val d’Elsa attractions and activities outlined in My Tusany Experience, a new idea and website.
■ 31 March 2014 by James Martin
It’s also got lots of historic cities, the best food in Italy (many claim)—and it’s got bike hotels.
Not only that, but it’s got CyclE-R, a site where you can plan your route and get pre-planned itineraries already mapped for you.
But we’re not done yet! The tourism people have started to offer contests like the current Instagram contest take a picture of scenic spots with your bike in it and you can win prizes. There’s one contest each month.
And all the info is in English! Imagine!
So heck, why not head over to the Emilia Romagna, rent a bike, and have a blast? It’s got some fine cities you’ve probably never heard of like Brisighella and seaside Cesenatico you will want to explore, as well as big boys like Parma and Italy’s Motor City Modena.
This little post was the result of a twitter conversation with someone who actually asked me a question that didn’t fall into the category I call, “How long is a piece of string?” These include, “Is Europe reasonable?” and “How much does an Italian train ticket cost?” Believe it or not, about 85% of questions I receive are unanswerable due to extreme vagueness; I have no idea what’s “reasonable” to you, nor can I guess where the train in your mind goes. I’m extremely grateful to get questions like asking for specific information a person can provide without hyperbole (don’t ever ask for the “best” town in Italy; I won’t answer). Try things like: where can I take my bike out for a spin in Italy where it’s flat? (Puglia). Where can I see a town whose economy was once based on Gypsum? (Brisighella). Where in Italy did Leonardo da Vinci design a canal? (Cesenatico). I might not be able to answer your question, but I like looking things up if the question is reasonable. Usually a question that involves food is reasonable—and there’s a good chance I can come up with an answer.
■ 28 March 2014 by James Martin
We visit lots of wineries. We see lots of freshly-built wine storage and aging facilities. We see barrels and stainless steel tanks. After a while, it all begins looking the same. In fact, some times the wine all tastes the same. There are times I wish I wasn’t going to visit yet another winery.
But Madrevite, we were to find out, was quite different. There was always wine on the estate. But it wasn’t the kind you bottle and sell with the big boys. It was local wine, vino sfuso, fuel for the workers.
Nestled between two lakes, the Umbrian Lake Trasimeno and the Tuscan Lake Chiusi, Madrevite isn’t so easy to find. But we managed to show up on the doorstep just a little later than our appointment. We were met by Nicola, who led us outside to see the olive grove and vineyards that make up the estate.
The winter’s rains made it too muddy to wander amongst the vines, but Nicola pointed down the road, where yet another Etruscan tomb had been found just off the property. “We’ve made a visit to it a part of our tours,” Nicola told us.
But the best part of the tour was the winery itself. The old stables and the big, concrete, wine storage facilities had been transformed from “grandpa’s winery” to a modern operation. The total area was indeed small and it was easy to see that production was limited.
It was obvious that the winery’s past was not going to be forgotten any time soon. About 2/3 of the winery production, Nicola told us, was still slated to become vino sfuso for the locals. If you’re not familiar with this way of selling wine, a hose and spigot like you’d find on a gas pump is attached to a big vat of wine like you see in the picture on the left, and when the locals come to buy wine (at 1.90 Euro per liter!) Nicola just sticks the hose into the bottle and it’s “fill ‘er up” time.
“This way it keeps us in touch with our local friends” he said. It’s also a way to keep the fine wine at a very high quality. Every harvest the wine is broken into thirds by geography or vineyard. The best third goes into the bottles, the rest into vino sfuso. And believe me, we tasted it and it was by far the best sfuso we’ve ever tasted. And we purchase it this way a lot.
By the time we came to taste Madrevite’s bottled wine, we spotted other signs that this wasn’t a big, commercial winery just trying to sell us the latest vintages. There were bags of beans all around. These are Fagiolina del Trasimeno, ancient beans used by the Etruscans that were not so easy to grow, so when imports came from the new world, they almost entirely replaced the local stock. Today Madrevite grows these fagioline and sells packages of them at the winery. They don’t need to be soaked; they cook in about 45 minutes, Nicola told us.
While we tasted the three reds bottled at the winery, Nicola laid out some local cheeses and salume, explaining that the local production of pecorino cheese had Sardinian origins, since the territory wasn’t traditionally devoted to sheep. On the table were bottles of estate bottled olive oil as well.
Last night at home we poured one of Madrevite’s three reds: Glanio, a dark and tasty DOC blend of 70% Sangiovese, 20% Gamay del Trasimeno and 10% Merlot.
I’m no wine writer, and Sangiovese has never been my favorite wine grape—but all I can say is “wow.” The nose was vanilla and spice, a bit peppery. It was an international style, meaning a bit more oak than traditional Italian reds, but it was powerful and delicious.
Why am I exited about this winery? It’s not just that they sell great wines, but it’s the community involvement, the “back to local food” education, and the tours and organized picnics in the vineyards designed to make an outing fun for the whole family and to show off the area and its history.
It is my belief that Italy will return from its economic doldrums through Janus, the two-faced god of transitions. By peering into Italy’s future with an eye to the past, it’s not hard to see that the way back to economic sanity from the industrial crap food “revolution” that spewed barely edibles while employing few will depend upon smart, connected folks re-building on the roots of an almost lost traditional culture.
Madrevite’s website is in English. Note the tours and special events. Then be sure to visit. There’s lots to see and do in the area if you have a car, as you can see from the map below.
We stayed at Fontanaro, where one can take cooking classes, find out about the organic farm and its products or just relax. The nearby towns of Panicale, Paciano, Castiglione del Lago, and Chiusi are all worth a visit.