Day 3: Vasto & the trabocco
We left this morning for Vasto, a fishing community of 40,000 people about 45 minutes northeast of Carunchio. Guided by our host’s father, who gave us an oral history of the region, we learned that the area is known for its white asparagus and olive oil. The scenic drive to the coast left Jessie and I green as ever, holding on for dear life in the back seat of that tiny European car. But we found a farmacia, procured some "travel gum" for the ride back and rejoined our group for a quick tour.
The "Sacra Spina"
Our host, Massimo, pointed out the more important historical symbols around town, including the Santa Maria Cathedral. The church is a ripe twelve centuries old and most famous for hosting the "sacra spina," one precious thorn from the crown Jesus once wore. The 2-inch spike is encased in an ornate tabernacle, where worshipers come from all over to get a close look.
After checking out the church, we explored the town's main street and made out with some sweet leather goods. (Gorgeous Italian leather purse for the win.) Then, we traveled about a mile up the coast to take part in an amazing seafood extravaganza. Seriously. I wanted to shake hands with each of the shellfish that made an appearance today.
The Trabocco
We traversed a long pier to make our way to a 200-year-old trabocco above the Adriatic Sea. There are only 19 of these “fishing houses” in Italy, we’re told, and we watched expectantly as a large fishing net was lowered into the sea, prepped to catch the next meal. See for yourself.
A couple of fishmongers cleaned a still-wiggling octopus right before our eyes before we were regaled with a lunch of octopus salad, stuffed black mussels, fish cake, spaghetti with clams and a platter of fresh prawns, cod, anchovies and calamari.
That was the part where I gave thanks to God for sparing shellfish from the long list of food allergies I was saddled with from birth. Absolute bliss.
A long nap later and it was time to eat again! Dinner and photos of dinner:
- Tomato stuffed with barley and cheese atop a green pea puree
- Pollo a la cacciatore, or chicken cacciatore, served with eggplant, fennel, peppers, onion and potatoes
- Vanilla custard cream housed in a filo dough and complimented with a Sambuca whipped cream and freshly pureed strawberry sauce
Loco for the trabocco
The "Sacra Spina"
Behold the tabernacle on display inside Santa Maria Maggiore, a cathedral built in 11th or 12th Century AD. The ornate vessel is home to a "sacra spina," or "Holy Thorn" said to have been worn in Jesus' crown on the day of his crucifixion.
Recipe: Stuffed Artichokes
Stuffed Artichokes
AbruzzoCibus.com
6 medium artichokes
Look for round artichokes (globe) with stems. The leaves should be pliable and not too spiky. Lemons are the key to prevent discoloration. Prepare a large bowl of water with lemon juice.
Working one artichoke at a time, cut the stem off at the base of the artichoke leaving it flat so as to stand on it’s own, and rub with lemon. Slice the top off almost half-way down and rub the cut surface with lemon. Trim by pulling off the outer two or three layers of leaves (or more) until you expose pale, tender leaves. Using a melon baler or small spoon scrape out the fuzzy choke on the inside. Rub again with lemon and drop into the lemon water.
Peel the outside layer of the stems. Treat with lemon and drop into the lemon water*
Prepare the stuffing:
Dice the stems of the artichokes and sweat until tender and translucent with
- 6 tbsp. olive oil
- 1 med. white onion, chopped fine
Add:
- 3 garlic cloves, chopped fine
- ¼ cup fresh parsley, chopped
Transfer the mixture to a large bowl and mix with:
- 14- oz. fresh breadcrumbs
- 1 tsp. ground hot pepper (paprika)
- 1/3 cup grated pecorino cheese (parmesan/Romano)
- 6 basil leaves, chopped
- S & P
- Olive oil
The mixture should be just moist enough to form a cohesive paste when squeezed.
Carefully spread open the artichokes spoon the stuffing into the cavities. Place the stuffed artichokes in a low casserole w/lid making sure they stand securely. Pour about 1 ½ -inches of water into the pan. Drizzle with a few more tbsp. of olive oil. Cover and Simmer over a low to med. flame until the artichokes are tender. 30 to 45 min. depending on the size and the number in the pan. Baste occasionally with their juices.
Allow the artichokes to cool down . They can be eaten warm or at room temperature. The sauce is wonderful with fresh crunchy bread. Stuffed artichokes can be made a day ahead and refrigerated. Bring to room temperature before serving. They will be even more flavorful.
* Prepared artichokes (before stuffing) can be stored completely covered with their lemon water for up to a day in the refrigerator.
Overheard at the Palazzo Tour d’Eau
“I just got back from a walk. I’d like to lie down on this floor and hug the tile. Can you tell I’m in great shape?” – Kay, of Wisconsin
Overheard at the Palazzo Tour d’Eau
“I would love a colonic right now.” – Mandy, after our 4-course dinner
Day 2: The truffle hunt and the salami factory
It’s like a Disney movie around here. Every morning, we wake to birds chirping and sunlight pouring through the windows. Not to mention the girls turn every other phrase into a song!
The trek for truffles
Today, we set off with the group to hunt truffles with a pair of dogs and a guide. We're told Argo and Sara were trained as puppies to sniff out the elusive truffles by suckling truffle oil spread on their mother’s teat. Once old enough to hunt, the pair knew to seek the familiar scent. The dogs sit to indicate a ripe truffle and a guide digs it up.
We marched through cherry, peach and oak trees seeking the subterranean mushrooms, and came away with about half a dozen pungent black truffles that went straight from the ground into our spaghetti lunch.
The delicious meal was enjoyed at the butcher shop, which was formerly a jail and then a convent before its current state as a salami factory. The cured meats in Carunchio are non-processed and seasoned with only salt and pepper. Encased in pig’s bladder, the sausages are cured in mold, dipped in lard and hung to dry for months before being offered up for consumption. We delighted in antipasti of sorpresata, cappicola, pecorino and pancetta with fresh bread before dining on a delicious bowl of truffle-topped spaghetti.
After lunch, we walked around the village, attempting to communicate with the locals for directions to the local post office. Only about 620 people live in this town, we learned. And very few speak English. Unsure how to get back to the Palazzo Tour d'Eau, we asked a sweet elderly man in a yellow wool sweater for help. He smiled through about three teeth and tipped his news boy cap. Then, that kind old soul walked us all the way back up the hill, pointing out his hometown in the distance on the way.
Cooking class
Tonight, we prepared a lovely wine-fueled dinner of:
- Pecorino nestled inside a few leaves of arugula, wrapped with prosciutto, drizzled with olive oil and complimented with three black olives (recipe)
- Stuffed artichokes (recipe)
- To-die-for tiramisu (recipe)
Recipe: Involtini di Prosciutto con Arugula e Pecorino
Involtini di Prosciutto con Arugula e Pecorino
(Prosciutto rolled with aruglula and pecorino cheese)
AbruzzoCibus.com
- 8 to 10 thin slices of prosciutto
- 8 to 10 shavings of pecorino/parmesan* (from a whole piece)
- 2 bunches of arugula (washed with hard stems removed)
- 1/4 cup (60 ml.) of olive oil
- juice of 1/2 lemon (strained)
- salt and freshly ground pepper
- 15 cured black olives, pits removed (optional)
On parchment paper, arrange the prosciutto in a single layer.
Pour the strained lemon juice in a non-reactive bowl. Slowly drizzle in the oil, whisking constantly. Drop in the arugula, add salt and pepper and toss thoroughly.
Starting at one end of the slice of prosciutto place a small bunch of arugula. Add 1 shaving of cheese. Roll into a roulade making sure it remains intact.
Continue with the remaining slices of prosciutto. Arrange on a plate. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with fresh ground pepper to taste. Garnish with black olives (optional).
SERVES 4 to 5
* In lieu of pecorino, you may use parmigiano, romano or grana cheese.
Tiramisu
TiramisuAbruzzoCibus.com
The name means "pick me up," and it does, indeed. There are many different versions of this popular dessert, but this is the true peasant version.
- 3 large egg yolks
- 2 Tbsp confectioners' sugar
- 1 Tbsp sweet Marsala
- 1 Tbsp water
- 250 grams (approx. 10 oz.) mascarpone cheese
- 1/2 cup strong coffee or espresso, cold and slightly sugared
- 12 lady fingers, broken into thirds
- 2 oz. combination of dark or milk chocolate, grated and dark cocoa
Beat the egg yolks and sugar together with an electric mixer until pale and thick. Slowly beat in the marsala and the water. Add the mascarpone, and beat until the mixture is thick and smooth. Next, drop three lady finger pieces in the bottom of each of wine glass or other bowl shaped serving piece. Drizzle 1/3 to 1/2 of the coffee mixture over the lady fingers. Then, spoon in 1/3 to 1/2 of the mascarpone, and sprinkle with the chocolate mixture.
Repeat with one or two more layers (depending on the size of the glass) with the remaining ladyfingers, coffee, mascarpone, and chocolate. Cover and chill for 2 hours before serving.
Makes 4 to 6 servings, depending on the size of the glass.
Day 3: Dinner
A room with a view
What a quiet miraculous power a beautiful morning brings. The hills are alive indeed.
Hello, lover.
Meet the most divine square-shaped spaghetti I've ever laid taste buds on. Topped with our freshly shaved black truffles, this dish almost made me cry.
Overheard at the Palazzo Tour d’Eau
“I need to put my finger down my throat, but then I’d lose all this deliciousness.” – Jessie, re: 4-course Italian meal
Day 1: The "Texas girls"
In anticipation of pasta overload, I have Pilates'd and treadmill’d my way through this week in hopes that it might help cancel out the European smorgasbord I'm about to encounter. Wishful thinking, eh? Not that I’m complaining or anything. This foodie is more than happy to jump right into the arms of Italian gluttony.
Day 1
Made it. We’re in Carunchio. And the hills are alive! It looks like a scene from “The Sound of Music” right outside our window. And I’ll just go ahead and admit that the sight of that lush green landscape – and knowing we’ll be waking up to it for the next week -- may have induced age-regressing squeals from the three of us.
But let me back up to this morning.
Austin > NYC It’s a celebration. We’re on our way to Italy, so Bailey’s and coffee is in order at 9 a.m. That said, we got a little more than disapproving glances on cocktail consumption this morning from a Delta flight attendant who offered unsolicited warnings about the effects of alcohol at high altitudes. But after getting “KINDed” with a box of free snack bars from Jessie – and then listening enviously to the culinary trip we were about to embark upon – she subsequently sent us off with half a dozen mini bottles of vodka. WIN.
NYC > Rome
With a layover long enough to procure lunch in nearby Williamsburg, we booked it to Brooklyn for brunch. After sippin’ a couple of mimosas and popping into one of my favorite local boutiques, we headed straight back to JFK. No security lines. Double win.
The 9-hour flight almost went off without a hitch. Then, about an hour before landing, we watched as a man in the row in front of us reared back over the top of his seat, eyes rolling back in his head. He was having a seizure. Talk about a scary sight. But whaddya know? A paramedic happened to be seated directly in front of him, so he and three other first responders were able to stabilize the guy and avoid an emergency landing. In total, there were at least four medical professionals on our flight -- all of whom answered the call when a flight attendant pleaded for assistance. An hour later, Roman paramedics came aboard to greet the man and his grateful wife.
Rome
We made it to Italy. And after obsessing all day over whether my bag would make it across the pond, it arrived safe and sound. Unfortunately, it was Jessie’s whose luggage showed up mangled and missing a wheel. But at least the contents were safe.
We made our way to the designated meet-up spot to find our group. Then, after a 3-hour bus ride east into Abruzzo, we arrived at the bottom of a hill in Carunchio. A group of old Italian men on a bench eyed our brightly clad American group as we climbed into a couple of vans to transport us half a mile uphill to the Palazzo Tour d’Eau, our gorgeous restored 300-year old hotel.
We represent Vancouver, Massachusetts, Colorado, Wisconsin, Alaska, Alabama, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, California, Illinois and Texas. In fact, Jessica, Mandy and I have become known as “Texas” collectively. “Texas is here,” is what they say when we arrive at dinner. “Here comes Texas.” And I think we're OK with that.
The Welcome Dinner
Once night fell, dinner was absolutely divine. The menu:
- popover (fresh puff pastry) with black truffles and Italian cheeses in a saffron sauce
- gnocchiette in a porcini mushroom paste
- wild boar crusted with black truffles and pancetta on a bed of homemade applesauce
- semifreddo; a lemon panacotta-like custard with mixed berries
Check out the welcome dinner gallery for photos of tonight's meal.
Day 1: Welcome Dinner
The Italian jaunt
So clearly I've been on major hiatus from the travel blog. Not because I haven't been anywhere since 2010, but because publicizing my personal writing freaks me out a little bit. It's like everyone can see inside my closet or something. But it's also my favorite thing in the world to do so there's that. Anyway, at the request of friends who want to follow along as I document my next adventure, I'll be posting soon about my upcoming culinary trip to Italy. Also what I eat there. (Can someone please pay me to eat and travel and write about eating and traveling?)
Anyway, the upcoming Italian getaway with two of my favorite people will take place in the foothills of Abruzzo, a province of south-central Italy about 50 miles east of Rome.
And there will be food. Glorious food.
I'm talking cheese-making, truffle hunting, from-scratch pasta, ocean-to-table seafood, and of course, gelato! Whee! Can gastronomic perfection be reached? We shall see. Bon appetite to me.
Bermuda Day 4: Lighthouse & landmarks
On my last day in this beautiful place, I'll be going solo. Erika is working most of the day so I decided to make my way this morning to one of Bermuda's oldest treasures: Gibb's Hill Lighthouse. After a mile hike uphill, I arrived at the 162-year-old landmark. About $2.50 gains you access to the spiral staircase of 182 steps, so I set off (sans inhaler) and crossed my fingers.
Once I reached the summit, I was floored at the breathtaking views of the island. One can see almost the entire stretch of Bermuda from the Royal Naval Dockyard at the far west to just a hint of St. Georges parish at the far east. Phenomenal can hardly describe the scene. A lush landscape of palm trees and hibiscus flowers was set against a breathtaking backdrop of expansive blue ocean. I was all alone up there except for a pair of Mormon missionaries, but stayed there for a long time reflecting on the awesome scene in front of me.
After exploring the lighthouse, I decided to spend my last sunny afternoon solo in the sea. An hour later I was lying starfish-style in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, drawing in deep breaths of salty air when I failed to notice I was floating straight into the path of a Portuguese Man of War.
Even though we'd seen signs posted around the beach warning tourists about the potentially deadly creature, neither of us had spotted any in the days leading up to this. Thankfully, a Good Samaritan couple shouted a warning before I backed right into the jellyfish's camouflaged tentacles. Disaster averted.
Once evening fell, Erika and I made our way to the Bermudan commissioner’s home for the conference's closing cocktail reception and gala dinner. That's where we met the Gombeys, an Afro-Caribbean dance group who perform to the sound of drums and whistles. Think tribal rave. These guys were decked out in elaborate masks with colorful costumes and wore peacock feathers atop their heads as they made their way through the crowd.
The commissioner's "home" is actually a museum dedicated at the time of our visit to the slave trade. Hundreds of thousands of West African slaves were brought to Bermuda in the 17th Century and those slaves, seeking respite, organized the Gombeys. When the men were granted rest from work on holidays, they celebrated their short taste of freedom with dance. It was a pretty amazing thing to see in action.
Later that night, we did a little dancing of our own back at The Cellar in celebration of our last night in Bermuda. I was sad to leave our hotel the following morning, but also ready to be back on the right side of the road again after the tumultuous car ride to the airport and subsequent delay. As luck would have it, a Bermudian security guard steered us away from U.S. Customs and into the wrong terminal, where we sat unknowingly for an hour before someone pointed us in the right direction. Thankfully, a few hours later, we were back on American soil. And ya know, no matter where in the world you travel, there's something oddly comforting about seeing that uniformed American official welcoming you home.
One more stamp in the passport. And as I think back on the trip, I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes from "Eat Pray Love."
"I am loyal and constant in my love for travel, as I have not always been loyal and constant in my other loves. I feel about travel the way a happy new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby. I just don't care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because it's mine. Because it looks exactly like me."
Say what? Slow down.
Mopeds zoom around every corner around here, but we've been warned that they're a dangerous option for tourists who aren't accustomed to driving on the left side of the road. By law, motorists are not allowed to go any faster than about 35 miles per hour, thanks to the extremely narrow streets. The concierge told us today that she'd recently been ticketed for going 35 in a 15 mph zone and is expected to pay a fine of $500! Lawd! We'll stick to the trolley.
Say what? Pump it up. Drink it down.
The island has no rivers, streams or reservoirs so all the drinkable water here comes from rain. Bermudan roofs are painted with a limestone wash that purifies the water as it trickles down into underground tanks. Electric pumps send the water up to the tap to drink. It's got a bit of a chemical taste to it, too. Better stick to rum.