Saturday, June 20, 2009

"My Italy" 2009

My arrival to Italy was  on June 15.  Around 4pm in the backyard of the house that will be my home for the next 30 days, I am immediately greeted by a glorious apricot tree.  A sign of things to come in this country where the food culture is prominent and wonderful!  The branches are heavy with fruit, so of course it was a feast at the tree...picking and eating fresh apricots, the view of the Ionian sea always in view! 



Soon the ladies of the house prepare dinner of “Fagiolini” ( a flat green bean prepared with fresh tomato, garlic and olive oil) and sardines, rolled up and breaded with their little tails sticking up like a frill.  By 9pm “the boys” are a little late for dinner but they don't come empty handed. Fishing for the last few hours they come home proudly with their catch... a bucket of these little silver fish that are sure to be part of tomorrows menu.



The next day warrants an early trip to the village, the one many of you know through my frescoes of Ferruzzano. There are three sisters, part of a handful of families that still live in this quaint mountain town, that still make bread in their wood oven up there. 


We arrive and are quickly invited in and we enter a small kitchen. An older gentleman sits in the corner by a sunny window with a sweater over his shoulders. He wears a woolen cap even though it is June, and rests his hands on a wooden cane. His eyes sparkle as he greets us and we sit with him. 


On the table were three brown paper packages, the bread we were to take with us. Ione package there were three round loaves of a very rustic type, split lengthwise and filled with fresh anchovies and extra virgin olive oil of their own production of course!. This is a specialty called "schiacciata" (meaning "pressed" so it is kind of a flat-ish bread.) When the bread comes out of the oven and while hot, it gets split and drizzled with olive oil. It is then that it is either sprinkled with oregano, or filled with anchovies. I have also had it with an aged goat cheese, a personal favorite! Another package contained plain loaves, and on the window sill there is a third package for us, a container of fresh eggs from the chickens of course!


"Do you drink wine?" was the next question... 


The small man in the corner utters, "our wine is no good this year!"


His sister disagrees with him and insists that it is because he doesn't taste like he used to.


she quickly leaves the kitchen. 


"Where did she go?" I ask, 


My compare replies, "go follow her and you will see"


Out the front door there is a set of stairs with no bannister, just a very old grape vine that follows the incline of the stairs so perfectly it acts as a bannister! Around the house to the back is the wood oven and beside it the cellar door...our host is crouched down filling a bottle of wine from the cask, it is cool and dark but the sunlight spills in from one tiny window and the open door...her sister quickly approaches with 2 glasses so we can taste, it is only 9 am but it is good! 


We leave the cellar and enter an adjoining room where the bread that was made that morning rests on a bed. There were at least two dozen loaves. Big, small, round some with a hole in the middle and covered with sheets. 


Hanging from the ceiling were a dozen salami's of different types tied up with string to cure. This room was also cool and dark and filled with the remnants of another life. A life disappeared except for these few people that are keeping parts of it alive. But for how much longer?? I feel sad but look around in amazment! It has been a beautiful morning and I feel lucky to be here. 



On the way home we must stop to check if there are any ripe figs on the trees. It is only mid June so still early for fig season, but if you are persistant and patient you can get lucky! We stop at the side of the road, enter through a gate and traverse the uneven tilled earth beneath our feet. My father, on a mission a forges ahead, my compare however stops at the sight of a plum tree, picking and eating them like large grapes, I take a picture before I join him.


No figs from these trees today, "But with this heat they will need only another week" my father shouts. 


Ok, back to the plum tree for another feast but I soon hear the sound of bells..."clunk clunkity clunk", Alas a small herd of goats, white and tan and a small  black one with the big bell around his neck. They become aware of me and start to run, most on the hillside a couple on the road in front.




The sound of the bells waining in the distance brings this morning to a close and  down the mountain we go. Now with a trunk filled with fresh bread, fresh eggs,  a bottle of homemade wine and a bag full of freshly picked  plums! no money required!! I am not sure, but this could be heaven! 


O yes, by the way, I think admist all the excitement I think I found a subject for my next fresco. What do you think?



Until next time, 

Arrivaderci and Buon Apetito!! and remember you can view my new body of work inspired by "My Italy 2009" at the Celebration of Fine Art in Scottsdale Arizona. Visit www.celebrateart.com for details on next years 20th anniversary exhibit. 3m9ar78jux