Montalcino

It was a day to check out Montalcino, the town straight up the mountain beyond our grapevines.  All was quiet.  The 19th-century cathedral was open and light-filled but the well in the park next to it was dark and cheerless; some sort of colorful mosaic is supposed to be visible when you open the portholes on top of the well but there was nothing but the faint glint of a soda can in the dimness.  The fourteenth-century church St. Egidio has been (sadly) remodeled but it still has a certain charm.

I met Maurice at the fortezza.  We discovered he had forgotten his wallet and all his coins when we tried to park at the lot outside the walls (the very spot that had been used for military training in the Middle Ages).  So he dropped me off, went home and reparked; only later did he find the free parking lot.  At the fortress Maurice stood at the gate and sketched Montalcino’s rooftops.

I looked at an exhibit inside the castle by a Danish artist and walked the walls with stunning views over the countryside. 

At a pasticceria we got two slabs of exquisite millefoglie and a chunk of the local specialty panforte.  Maurice led us around the village until we could see our farm Le Chiuse down below, easily recognizable by its white sail canopy over the picnic table.

The farm Le Chiuse in the front left corner; our capella is to the left of the swimming pool, behind the two cherry trees

We met the group at La Canonica to caravan to Osteria delle Crete in San Giovanni d’Asso for a pre-arranged birthday dinner for Janice. 

It was an adorably tiny and quaint restaurant with old beams, faded walls and a forno, lovely even though we had to be divided into two cozy rooms.  Our first course was an intriguing pea-potato paté with local truffles, elegantly presented, and our second course was white lasagna with truffles. 

Oh.  My.  Goodness.  So velvety smooth and lusciously rich—I’ve got to learn to make that lasagna!  When we were finished the chef brought in a fresh truffle for us to see.

Then she walked around with the lasagna pan offering seconds, which I readily accepted, but only a piccolo serving, and of course Maurice had some more too.  I don’t know why no one else did, but our info was vague and we were all expecting another course.  It turned out that was it (I definitely should have had bigger seconds).  Then we all ordered delectable desserts from a chalkboard of tempting offerings.  Janice came over for us to sing her happy birthday and to receive presents from a few people, lovely jewelry to add to her new collection; her old favorite pieces had been stolen from her car the year before as they were setting up an art show.  When it was time to pay, Ken came around to collect the amount he had told us ahead, plus a few extra euros apiece to pay for Janice and Jerry’s dinner.  All good.  Then he came back.  Whoops!  Wine was extra, but just two euros apiece would suffice.  OK.  He was back.  Well, it turned out dessert wasn’t included.  That’d be six each, if we still had any cash left.  Whatever.  It was a delightful meal.  We’ll see what tomorrow night’s dinner at La Canonica, cooked by the owners and rumored to be only ten apiece, ends up costing.

The birthday girl Janice with the chef

Wilma came to greet us when we got home but did not try to come in.