Mesciua - Simple Soup · Mar 10, 12:20 AM by James Martin
You want humble? You want peasant food, cucina povera? Well Mesciua is the thing for you.
The picture shows the modern mixings. You buy the ingredients in a vacuum packed bag. It contains pre-soaked beans and grains. The ingredient list: ceci, fagioli, grano.
Mesciua is a soup that originates in La Spezia, specifically at the port of La Spezia, where women would come after ships were offloaded and pick up the stuff that had fallen on the pier. Perhaps if you have a fertile imagination you can picture stout women bending with agile grace to pick up the odd bean here, the odd grain there, placing them gently in a sack.
At home you’d put what you had gleaned in some water and boil it. When it was done you seasoned it with salt and pepper and drizzled some olive oil in it. Our package advises us not to even stir it while it simmered.
We did what it said. The resulting Mesciua was good on a chilly Lunigiana night.
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A Wild Thyme in the Lunigiana · Feb 16, 11:23 AM by James Martin
There are two things messing with my head right now. One is my imminent return to northern Tuscany in March. Just the other day I was thinking, “gee, we should go to that little restaurant…” and I stopped myself because that little restaurant was 9 time zones away in Tuscany—and I’m pounding away at this disgustingly filthy keyboard in California, quickly realizing that even a foodie who talks to himself frequently doesn’t jump on a plane just for a worker’s lunch in the Lunigiana.
The other thing messing with my “zucca” is food, of course. You see, the other day I had an impulse to buy four ounces of “Cajun Seasoning” called “Slap ya Momma.” 8 ounces of it lightened my wallet by 4 bucks.
When I got home I doused my ribs in Slap ya Moma. Well, not my ribs, but the ribs of some nameless and nearly fat-free pig whose flesh, the “other white meat” that corporations have so carefully cultivated to taste like nothing resembling pork, needed some spicing up.
I cooked the ribs long and slow. They smelled divine. (I’m assuming that divinity has a preferred odor, perhaps artificial, and that the sensual nasal-tickling steam rolling off a hot hunk of roast pork with Cajun seasoning would do for this purpose, at least in my version of heaven.)
Then I ate them. It was as if the pig itself had been removed from a salt mine. It was salty as hell.
Divine hell. What a concept.
Anyway, I’m figuring what the “Cajun Seasonings” was was 8.9 ounces of salt along with some some dried peppers and things to make up the other 0.1 ounce.
Then I though, “Shezam, I could do this! What a racket!”
You know what I’d do? I’d make up something called “Essence of Tuscany; a Rub for All Seasons.”
The idea actually came to me when I was on a walk with my Lunigiana neighbors Francesca and Armando as documented in the video: Lunigiana Panorama. Francesca is a gatherer, you see, and every once in a while, along a road lined with wildflowers like you see in the gratuitous picture below from that exact walk, she would reach down and snap off a twig of something. Like wild thyme. Then she’d spend some time telling us what she did with it.

So here’s what I’d do. I’d get a bathtub full of salt and 1000 containers. then I’d go around with Francesca picking things up off the ground that she deems edible.
I’d dry them. I’d crush them between my fingers. I’d take the two tablespoons or so of spices and mix them with the bathtub overflowing with salt.
Then all that’s left to do is to funnel them into little bottles—which I’d charge $12 for. Imported Essence of Tuscany. Who wouldn’t pay 12 bucks? What could it cost me? 5 cents for the salt and the spices are free! I could be a millionaire and pay no taxes. Conservatives would laud me as an innovator, especially if I had my bathtub moved to China and had Chinese political prisoners working as “interns” filling my bottles. I’d be on the cover of Time Magazine as the guy who brought Tuscany to your table. Scantily clad young women would beat a path to my door. The gigantic Doberman would scare them.
Anyway, I’m going nuts thinking about how long I’ve been away from bankrupt Italy. Can you tell?
Flooding in the Cinque Terre and Tuscany - The Aftermath · Nov 1, 11:46 AM by James Martin
If you’ve followed the story of watery mayhem and destruction in Liguria and Tuscany, you may have come away with a mental map showing a large section of Italy chunking off from the mainland and crashing unceremoniously into the sea, never to be fawned over by a tourist or travel writer again.
It’s time to put all this in perspective. I feel a need to do this because I was with friends from Oakland on a Greek ferry when the 1989 earthquake struck the Bay Area. We could see pictures of the destruction on the TV in the bar. Every 15 minutes the crowd fell into silence as the television replayed scene after devastating scene. Cripes, Frisco was no more!
Of course, this was not the case. Not even close. By the time we came home, you could not tell there had been an earthquake at all, unless you happened to be at the dinner table with folks who just had to fill you in on the details. In the end, you have to admit: humans are quite resourceful when it comes to repairing things, expecially beautiful things.
It’s the same with northern Italy. Sure, there’s been destruction. But it’s not like either region has been wiped off the map. And flooding here is a frequent occurrence, as David Downie points out in Devistating, Lethal Floods in the Cinque Terre”.
The Lunigiana was hard hit by the massive rainstorm. Aulla is still closed to outsiders, the whole of its downtown area a mass of mud and messed-up cars. But Mike Mazzaschi of A Path to Lunch fame tells a story of the rest of the Lunigiana:
We walked all around Pontremoli, but could find no damage! Despite those incredible pictures, the building along the rivers were fine, no evidence of flooding, no one cleaning up. We drove by one bridge which was closed – down the valley at the edge of town, but all the walking bridges around town were fine.
Of course, there are allso sad stories about the folks who’ve come to help as well. Friend Paula Loi reports from her home in Sardinia:
Sandro Usai from Arbus (Sardinia), passed away while helping as a volunteer. A big wave took him away! His body was finally found today after searching for him for days! how sad!
Yes, folks from far and wide have come to help. Ciao Lunigiana reports that “refugees from Lampedusa helping with the cleanup in Lunigiana.”
What’s to come? More work. More rain. Again from Ciao Lunigiana: “Forecasts are still for heavy rain arriving on Friday through to 10 November, although not as heavy as the rain expected in Liguria and Piemonte. Piemonte is expected to receive 50% of its annual rainfall in this period.”
Bad weather and good deeds continue in Liguria and Tuscany— รจ sempre cosi.
Now is not the time to go to the Cinque Terre--or Tuscany · Oct 26, 01:40 PM by James Martin
It’s devastating to hear the news from our little corner of Italy. Torential downpours over the last few days have ravished the medieval cities along the rivers they depended upon. Friends say our market town of Aulla has been completely trashed by the swollen river. Two have died there; three in Liguria. Hundreds sleep in the old train station. Folks are being evacuated. Sad pictures from Aulla.
The Cinque Terre is suffering a similar fate, with the steep slopes sending monumental amounts of water into the towns. Look at Vernazza.
There is not much to say. For the first time in my life since buying our Italian house, I can be sincerely glad I’m not inside it at the moment.
Fancy Pants Pictures from Tuscany · Oct 19, 04:52 PM by James Martin
You see thousands of travel pictures taken by all kinds of folks posted on the net. Usually the ones you look at are from your own country due to language issues. Thus, just a little, they probably share a tiny bit of your worldview. They’re purty, but you’ve been there and done that.
I have to say I was surprised when one of my close Italian neighbors, the master Italian gardener Enrico’s wife Isa, sent me notice of her slide show. Now, folks are often bowled over when I tell them I know more about my Italian neighbors than about my neighbors in California, but I do. Still, I was blown away by the quality of Isa’s photography. So, I thought you’d like to know where a Lunigiana couple goes on a “close” vacation, and what they think is important enough to photograph. So, here:
Now, was that artistic or not?
I Will Miss This When I Go Away · Sep 20, 10:25 AM by James Martin
The little village I live in looks fairly remote in this picture, doesn’t it?

Lunigiana After the Storm · Sep 20, 04:05 AM by James Martin
Today has emerged with a crystal clarity—after a distinct change in the weather doused us in rain and covered us in dark, brooding clouds for a couple of days.
Today, merchants at the Fivizzano market wore jackets. The market itself looked different. Shades over the various tables weren’t to be seen, despite the sun’s presence. Before, sun was the enemy—today it provided a soothing warmth. Fall has arrived.
But one thing is different here than in the US. Today when we arrived at the Macelleria Azieda Agraria La Valle, the new market between Rometta and Sericciolo that sells only local goods, there was a big basket of huge porcini mushrooms there to provide eye candy to all who entered. Indeed, at the market everyone was talking about the funghi and the best places to find them.
It’s that seasonality that I’m sad to lose as I contemplate returning to the states—the joy of walking into a store and seeing agretti, or puntarelle, or mushrooms the owner has foraged for. It’s always the same old stuff in Safeway; unless there’s enough to furnish all of the stores of a big chain, you’re out of luck, Bub. It’s sad, and depressing to shop in America.
But today we are happy. We are in Tuscany. The air is clear. So clear that Bastia Castle, quite a distance from us, can be seen clearly, as if only a short stroll would be required to reach it. The picture below was taken with over 400mm of telephoto lens. It’s a picture I’ve tried to take before, but the long lens compresses the junk in the air and makes for a mushy picture on most days. But not today.

See Bastia Castle from Above, on a Google Map.
But First the Weather · Sep 19, 06:13 AM by James Martin
I have a lot to talk to you about. But first, the weather. That’s the way they do it on the tee-vee, if I remember correctly. You can wait for a story all day, but there’s the weather, reports about ball games, lots of ads, a list of the new murders—and before you know it you’re too tired to wait for the main story.
Anyway, yesterday was a day of much-needed rain here in the Lunigiana. It poured pretty much all day. There was a little thunder in the afternoon. Otherwise dreary.
But today began with a stunning clarity and blue skies. We yearned to get out. As soon as we did, clouds started forming. Then, after lunch, it actually rained a bit again. We went in search of stunning views. Even though these pictures were taken with a little pocket camera, the views of the Alpi Apuane were so good I thought I’d share them with you before returning to work on the Wandering Europe newsletter.
Even the non-mountain landscapes were sorta purty.

(You can click the picture in the upper right and it’ll get bigger. You can click the bottom one, but it will just sit there and do nothing. If it does do something, call me.)








