Gavi & Northern Italy

Hello and welcome back.  This is Taylor ‘tagliatelle’ Malloy, reporting to you live from Gavi, Italy.

If you just tuned in: NO I still can’t breathe, YES I’m still eating pasta twice a day, and NO you can’t have any.  (Do me a favor and gimme a heads up if my upper lip sweat becomes a distraction; I have hair and makeup standing by.)

is anyone else sweating?

Stationed in northern Italy’s Piedmont region for the past three weeks (known for its Nebbiolos, Barolos, Barbarescos and Barberas), living & working on a vineyard was the only responsible thing to do.  With 30 years of production under its belt and 16-20 wine varieties, Tenuta San Lorenzo was the perfect place to sample the fruits of my own labor.

But, Taylor……… didn’t you just work on a vineyard in the Swiss Alps?

A.) What are you, my stalker?  and

B.) Pulling weeds on an Italian vineyard is completely different from pulling weeds on a Swiss vineyard because, and stay with me here, one of them is in ITALY.  Game changer.  Whole new thing.

As opposed to backflipping down steep, Swiss slopes and trying to remember a time when my inner thighs weren’t on fire, this 5-hour work day was (unfortunately) a walk in a park.  (Was it too much to ask for some sort of physically demanding manual labor to counteract the truckloads of tortellini I was shoveling into my mouth every night!?)

In the fields from 3-8 or 4-9pm, we worked as two-man teams, twisting grapevines through wire trellises, tethering unruly vines together with sandwich bag twist ties, and chitchatting about global affairs which gelato flavors we would put in our ultimate party tub.  MY partner (who helped me perfect my Russian accent and PROMISED me that she wouldn’t poison me in my sleep) was Alisa from Russia and she made me laugh all. day. long.

Moving as one, right on down the line – when she went high, I went low.  When I went high, she crouched down & ripped up weeds by the fistful, yelling ‘KILL! KILL! KILL!’.  With a TON of time to talk, we discussed everything from Russian-American relations and stereotypes (her Dad is not Boris the Blade from Snatch), how the Russian media blames e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g on Americans (‘Flat tire?’  ‘AMERICANS!’  ‘Crops didn’t grow?’  ‘AMERICANS!’  ‘Syphilis?  ‘AMERICANS!!!’), and how dog wool underwear is an essential part of any winter wardrobe (to avoid frostbite of the lady flower).

My knee-aim is Kee-air-el and I am A-med-a-kin.  Knee-YOT spy.  My pee-oy-zin is knee-YOT the pierre-fict comb-bi-nay-shun with wodka.  (Kee-air-el regularly lied down in the dirt & tried to hide when she was tired.  I heart Kee-air-el.)

Besides my stroganoff sister from a Russian mister, the UN sent delegates from England (Jenny), Scotland (Callum), Australia (Bridget & Mike) and Bakersfield (Corrine) to help me work in the fields to commiserate the difficulty of digesting two plates of mushroom risotto right before trudging out to the fields for work.

be still my beating heart with your saturated fat and your charming personality

Then there was THE RIGHETTI FAMILY who graciously invited us into their three-story, solar-heated home.  (Rigatoni + Spaghetti = Righetti.)  The family behind Tenuta San Lorenzo.  First up, the namesake LORENZO: thirty-year-old prodigal son who came back to work on the vineyard after completing law school and sailing in the Italian Navy, on the Amerigo Vespucci, for three years.  Next up, the father PETER: man of the house, re-filler of the nightly wine jug from the tanks in the basement (usually a very strong Bonarda cut with Rosé), and wholesale distributor of ‘cheap shit’ (his words) when not driving the family tractor.

Finally, LOWWW-RA: the last piece of the Rigatoni-Spaghetti trinity, the Italian mother hen responsible for my weight gain and the red-haired thief of my heart.  Top to bottom, start to finish.  She was three sheets to the wind and incapable of comprehending the syllables in my name on night one……… and she sat in my lap for the family photo, both of us laaaaaaaughing without understanding a single thing the other was saying (on my final night).

love transcends language barriers.  ps. lowww-ra, your salmon spaghetti changed my life.

Speaking of eating, I may have planned a last-minute, spur of the moment, gelato-fueled vacay all over Northern Italy to put the cherry biscuit on top of an already amazing Italian adventure.  Because when you have limited time left in the Land of Gelato, you must stop everything and EAT.

Now……… my family’s been planning vacations solely around food for as long as I can remember.  I’m assuming yours does too – doesn’t everyone?  We eat and we eat and we eat and we never stop eating or talking about eating or planning our next meal while still eating or on the way to eat.  That’s called ‘vacation’.  Duh.  Nothing groundbreaking there.  HOWEVER……… this courageous culinary quest was on a whole ‘nother level primarily because I was traveling to the BIRTHPLACE of some of my favorite foods.  Eating from the source.  Direct from the teet of gastronomic gold.

I ate parma ham and parmigiano cheese in PARMA (with funnel cake dough nuggets on the side).  Pesto and focaccia bread in GENOA (sometimes both together).  Tortellini, bolognese and mortadella (bologna’s upscale cousin who uses big words and only wears silk) in BOLOGNA.  And about 45 more pounds of meat, cheese, pizza, pasta, and gelato.

money shot, la sberla bistrot, bologna

In the country that invented PDA and the lovers’ embrace…… there I am, lighting up like a Christmas tree every time I see the words salumi bar.  Or mozzarella bar.  Or prosciutteria.  (For reference, I love cured meats SO much that my nephew used to call me every time he ate salami ‘cuz he thought of me and needed me to know he was eating it.)

One to two days in each city except for three full days in Bologna (gastronomic capital of Italy + university town = mind-blowing food at prices that students can afford = no brainer), I focused my energy on finding the best aperitivos and seeing the sights.  (Aperitivos are technically ‘pre-dinner’ happy hour niblets that come FREE WITH YOUR DRINK.  Ranging from salted peanuts to mini paninis to five-course Italian tapas buffets, it’s like tea service for drunk people.)

Besides the gourmet snack attacks, every city on my itinerary oozed with old-world charm.  So many gorgeous views and vistas and piazzas and basilicas and if you’d be so kind as to continue reading, I’d like to run through the highlights city-by-city in a nice, bulleted list (to keep things tidy).  Sound good?  Great.  Let’s begin with

GENOA

• Overview: claustrophobic alleyways (where buildings seemed to sag into each other), long strips of buttery yet light focaccia that didn’t need ANY CONDIMENTS, and accordion players in maroon-and-white striped shirts rotating between Italian classics and Despacito (to make the tourists feel at home).
• Sightseeing Highlights: Cathedral of San Lorenzo (guards the ashes of San Giovanni Battista, patron saint of Genoa – gorge), Church of Jesus and Saints Ambrogio & Andrea (built in the 6^th century, I lit a candle for the church itself and prayed they don’t have to pay per letter for the church league softball jerseys), Porto Antico/Old Port (pretty waterfront with street vendors and an Eataly), and Via Giuseppe Garibaldi (ancient palace faceoff – Palazzo Rosso vs Palazzo Bianco – one palace pairs nicely with red, while the other a nice Pinot Gris).
• Food Highlights: Antico Forno Patrone (Mom & Pop focaccia shop and so so cheap)
• Anything Else of Note: thank you Lorenzo for letting us use your city apartment as a weekend home base. And thank you, Alisa from Russia, for crawling into that weird attic crawl space, in your cute denim dress, to turn on the water pipes.

one of these alleys is sexier than the other

PARMA

• Overview: go for the meat and cheese, stay for the meat and cheese. 1-2 days max.
• Sightseeing Highlights: Musei della Pilotta Parma which houses multiple museums, an art institute & gallery, an old library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a 17^th century baroque-style theater called Teatro Farnese (which was only used NINE TIMES back in the day because apparently flooding the entire stage and then lighting the water on fire to recreate battle scenes was expensive).  I accidentally stumbled into the grand opening of the theater’s new art exhibit a couple Fridays ago……… but it took me two full hours to understand what was happening.  The lady at the front desk told me to ‘wait wait, it’s free, just wait’ so I waited in the middle of this beauuuuutiful theater, with the entire elderly population of Parma, while stagehands all dressed in black ran around with walkie talkies, 4 vintage pianos played in unison, 25 rocking horses were scattered about but no one was riding them, and three huge screens projected close-up videos of Chunk from The Goonies while he contorted his face in slow motion to a monotone (borderline depressed) voiceover saying something in Italian.  Two hours later, we were welcomed by theater directors and ushered into another room displaying hundreds of penises.  It was a great night.
• Food Highlights: two words = Emilia Cremeria. My favorite gelato place in three weeks in Italy, you MUST go there if you’re ever in Parma.  After my 2.5-hour theater ordeal, I treated myself to a two-flavor cup (bacio and wafer) from Emilia.  I ate it; thoroughly enjoyed it; left the shop; and then hovered around the entrance for five minutes, working up the courage to walk back in and order another, BIGGER cup.  As soon as the staff saw me, we all had a nice laugh.  And we continued laughing until they finished spooning the cioccotella, pistachio and raspberry cheesecake into my second, bigger cup.
• Anything Else of Note: one of my fellow volunteers from the vineyard met me in Parma and it’s safe to say that (over Trattoria al Tribunale’s tagliatelle with prosciutto & zucchini, lasagna, and red sparkling wine) I made a new friend.  Jenny- you’re adorable, I adore you, and I can’t wait for our reunion in Bristol.  Oh!  And I took Jenny back to Emilia the following day so I could try three more flavors.  (Natch.)  And, oh!  Unrelated, but I tried horse meat tartare for the first time which is surprisingly NOT that rare in these parts.  I mean the MEAT was rare but it’s not uncommon for Europeans to eat horse.  I saw signs for it all over town.  Order it spicy.  Sorry, Aunt Mary…

there were totally people my age there

two of my favorite things = jenny from bristol and (subjectively) the world’s best gelato

BOLOGNA

• Overview: whoever designed the color palette of this city should be given a rust-colored plaque. The faded reds and yellows and tangerines were so calming and soothing and lovely and you almost forgot that you ate three scoops of gelato right before climbing 498 steps to see the view.
• Sightseeing Highlights: SO MANY CHURCHES- Basilica di San Domenico (magnificent side chapels), Basilica di San Petronio (10^th largest church in the world, each of its 22 chapels filled with paintings & carvings & relics of time past), Basilica di Santo Stefano (7 interconnected churches honoring the Church of Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem with a gift shop selling nativity scenes carved out of a mushroom – why tho?).  Also, you had the University of Bologna (the 2^nd oldest university in the world), Piazza Maggiore (with my 2^nd favorite statue in northern Italy where four ladies sit at the base of Neptune, dejectedly squirting water from their ample bosoms), Osteria del Sole (the oldest pub in Bologna, hard to find because there’s NO SIGN), and Le Due Torri (the twin towers that you can climb for a panoramic view of the city).  Fun fact: the smaller of the two tours (the Garisenda Tower) leans 0.03 degrees more than the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
• Food Highlights: with a nickname of ‘La Grassa’ (‘The Fat One’), Bologna didn’t disappoint. Head to La Sberla Bistrot for their prosciutto asparagus ricotta tortellini & sea bream, Salumeria Simoni for their house mortadella that melts in your mouthhhh, Caffe del Mercato for the best $5 aperitivo buffet I’ve ever seen, Il Gelato di Fini for their salted pistachio, and Cremeria La Vecchia Stalla for their crema paradiso and ferrero rocher.  Also, I know the homemade ricciolina with lemon & prosciutto at Pasta Fresca Naldi doesn’t *look* like anything special but trust me…… a college student could lit’trally drop her bike directly onto your back, REALLY HARD, mid-meal and you wouldn’t even flinch.  (That’s the true test of all freshly-made pastas.)
• Anything Else of Note: going to four aperitivo buffets in one night is a little overkill.  Also, I know bologna has a first name……… but does mortadella?  I’m assuming it’s something fancy like Theodore or Sebastian or Leopold.  A name that says: I don’t work with my hands and I can get into any college I want.

cute canals and bolognese to the face

why did the garisenda start leaning?  to get a better look at the piazza across the street.

MILAN

• Overview: middle-aged women, clearly wealthy, clad in blazers & ankle-length jeans, effortlessly breezing through the city on their two-toned purple bicycles with prada bags slung over their shoulders.  That’s the only mental image you need.
• Sightseeing Highlights: the Duomo is unmissable.  One of the largest cathedrals in the world, it took over 600 years to complete.  (Pro tip: head to the Aperol Terrace Bar for a killer view of the Duomo while enjoying a killer aperol spritz.)  Besides Sempione Park, the Sforza Castle, the Vertical Forest (a tree-covered social housing project), and Bar Luce (the Wes Anderson-themed café), my favorite spots were the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II and the Piazza Affari’s ‘LOVE’ statue (a big middle finger raised in front of the Milan stock exchange).
• Food Highlights: the Milano triple threat included: 1. Street raviolis from Ravioleria Sarpi in Chinatown – handmade raviolis stuffed with meat from the butcher next door, 2. Prosciutto paninis from the heavens De Santis – order anything with melted brie & truffle oil, or a combination of mozzarella and the local basil-infused goat cheese, and 3. A happy cone from Cioccolati Italiani.  I was so focused on my milk chocolate, salted caramel, Nutella-covered milk cream gelato cone that I audibly GASPED when I turned the corner and saw the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II for the first time.  It took my breath away.  (After a 100% necessary gelato food pic, I got an instant KNOT at the pit of my stomach when I realized that two chocolate drips were about to fall from my cone onto the Galleria’s magNIFicent tiled floor.  Cue me speedwalking past shoppers and tourists, free hand securely fashioned underneath my happy cone all the way OUT of the gallery and into the alleyway.  My hand was a chocolate puddle but by GOD that floor stayed intact.  #Godsavethefloors)
• Anything Else of Note: I tried couchsurfing for the first time in Milan.  Basically, you reach out to a local (on a legit, accredited website) and ask if you can crash on their couch (or pull-out bed) for ‘x’ number of days.  The local might even offer to show you around the city or grab a beer, as they offer their homes in hopes of a cultural exchange & conversation!  Since I like to eat $15 bagel sandwiches and gelato every 15 minutes, I thought I’d give couchsurfing a try (to balance out my already-strapped budget).  I chose Philippe because he had a ton of great reviews, he was a traveler at heart (we could swap stories), and he could set me up in my own private room (with bedding and a towel).  We had dinner together at this amazing charcuterie place……… we talked about his trip to Indonesia and how he saw a dead woman who’d been mummified for a YEAR ‘cuz her family couldn’t come up with the 3000 Euro to slaughter an animal in her honor……… he took me for a walk around the interconnected Navigli canals on our way home, we got into our jammies, went to our respective rooms, and retired for the night.  Simple.  Painless.  And 100% free (minus the gelato I bought him).  New. Favorite. Thing.

food porn but whatever you do, protect. those. floors.

the duomo and some dirty birds

things escalated quickly…

SANTA MARGHERITA & PORTOFINO

• Overview: two fishing villages on the Italian Riviera close to Cinque Terre.  Locals will tell you to ‘skip the touristic Cinque Terre, take the train to Santa Margherita, and walk along the coast to Por-toe-FEE-no’ instead.
• Sightseeing Highlights: Alisa and I had a very romantic day, walking the 5k trail along the coast.  We stopped for gelato twice (I wasn’t kidding about eating gelato every 15 minutes); we had a couple watered-down spritzes at this posh lounge bar overlooking the water, and we sealed the deal on our budding friendship after she told me about the last time she drank gin, blacked out, and woke up in her bed holding an entire bake-ed pepperoni.  And she doesn’t even EAT bake-ed pepperoni!  That’s all I needed to hear; she’s in.  I don’t know what she’s in, but she’s in.
• Food Highlights: almost exactly halfway between Santa Margherita and Portofino, we wandered into this castle on a cliff, sat on the patio with full view of the embarking scuba diver squad, and ate the best pizza I’d eaten in Italy to date (at Buongustaio).  And eggplant parm for dessert.  #gainz
• Anything Else of Note: Alisa called every passing seagull by its first name, Steven.

two of my favorite things = alisa from russia and pizza with a view

CINQUE TERRE

• Overview: against popular advice, I made my way a little farther down the coast to check out the five-village, pastel-colored combo pack called Cinque Terre.  Famous for the idyllic, seaside & cliff-high clusters of colorful homes, Cinque Terre (Monterosso al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore) was just as magical as you hope it’d be.
• Sightseeing Highlights: technically, I was in the Cinque Terre area twice.  Take One, my friend Joanna (who moonlights as a first-class, international flight attendant) flew into town, we took the train to Cinque Terre, got lost and didn’t end up seeing Cinque Terre.  When the sidewalk ended and turned into a four-lane highway, we realized that ‘walking to the coast and finding Cinque Terre’ was harder than it sounded and what we REALLY needed was consolation gelato buckets and 2 rounds of Moretti roadies for the train home.  Cinque Terre remained on my bucket list until the following weekend.  Take Two, I didn’t learn my lesson, didn’t research properly, and thought a five-hour walk through all five towns sounded PERFECT!  You mean, I can eat lunch at one end and then walk to dinner!?  Little did I know that ‘the walk’ was through a national park and ‘the walk’ demanded proper athletic clothes, a hard-hitting hip hop playlist, and two Argentinian girls from Mendoza who kept telling me to ‘be car-fool’ every time I slipped.  It was HOT, y’all.  Fifty-year-old women were taking off their tops and hiking in their underwires……… families were taking breaks along the trail to get out of the 37-degree C (aka 99-degree F) heat……… and EYE kept burping truffle cheese burps from that damn antipasti platter for two that I ate back in Monterosso.  Since my stylish jean purse could only hold a paperback book, a sunglasses case, a wallet and portable charger, I couldn’t bring survival necessities like water or sunscreen.  That’s why my favorite sightseeing highlight is Bar Il Gabbiano- a terrace bar close to Vernazza right on the hiking trail that served fresh-squeezed OJ and lemon juice slushies.  I got both and they saved my LIFE.
• Food Highlights: Da Eraldo’s aforementioned antipasti platter for two was an amazing decision (up until I started the hike) – complete with pesto and these hot bread discs, the waitress told me to ‘make-a da pancake with da meat and da cheese’.  Excuse me, ma’am, is that poetry?  Thank you for the suggestion ‘cuz that’s exactly what I wanted to do.  I made-a so many pancakes you wouldn’t even BELIEVE.  On the flip side/tail end of the hike, I celebrated not dying at Nessun Dorma where I slurped down lemon coladas (basically a not-as-frozen strawberry daiquiri, not sure where the lemon came in) with arguably the best view of Manarola.
• Anything Else of Note: next time I come here, I’m exploring Cinque Terre by boat.

this. place. was. magical.

‘my slushie ran out!’  ‘it’s okkkkkk, i got a cocktail!’

it was hot as balls but the views were worth it

VENICE

• Overview: jam-packed with tourists, all you need to do is pretend the other tourists don’t exist, that the streets are empty and that Venice is your quaint, canal-filled personal playground.  Only then can you appreciate the true MAGIC of Venice.
• Sightseeing Highlights: St. Mark’s Basilica is the main attraction and for good reason.  Nicknamed the ‘Church of Gold’, its opulence begs to be respected……… which is why the roped-off tourist line snaking through its innards really depressed me.  To take this architectural marvel and reduce it to a sideshow attraction, shuffling tourists through like a cultural assembly line seemed wrong – I’d rather wait in a line, outside, for triple the amount of time!  My saving grace was that after snaking through and saying my prayers……… right as I was about to leave……… a man exited the confessional booth and the light turned green.  I looked around a few times to wonder, in this tourist hotbed & sardine can of multinational bodies, why no one else was in line.  Before I missed my chance, I quickly stepped into the stall (at ST. MARK’S BASILICA) and confessed my sins for the first time in years (in the best English/Spanish/Italian mangle that I could muster).  Then, I patiently waited until I got outside and could cry under my sunglasses as I walked through St Mark’s Square.  Per usual……. it was all a little too much to bear.  Twenty minutes later, I recited my Our Fathers while sipping a $10 cappuccino and listening to a live orchestra right there in the Square, at the world’s oldest café – Caffe Florian.  After calming down and noshing on a Norwegian salmon finger sandwich, I took a $2 gondola across the canal to check out Santa Maria della Salute but before I got there……… I was stopped in my tracks by a cello player, in a deserted alley, and I cried all over again.  Overcome by his devastatingly sad songs, watching the boats pass by in the faded green water, I felt 100% at peace.  I swear I’m having a great time this year, you guys, but all I seem to do is cry… hah
• Food Highlights: why would you go anywhere else when Bacareto da Lele is dishing out $1 porchetta paninis, $1.60 salami & cheese plates, and 80 cent glasses of Moscato!?  You can’t answer me, can you?  And you wanna know the kicker?  It was the BEST SALAMI I’VE EVER HAD.  Do you KNOW how much salami I’ve had?  My nephew and I used to BOND OVER FREAKING SALAMI CONSUMPTION.  This one was barely held together; it almost disintegrated on my tongue.  While I was eating it…… the same seagull whizzed by my head three separate times and each time, I felt a little wetness rain down on me.  At first, I thought it was shit, but now, I think it was drool.
• Anything Else of Note: yeah.  Go to Bacareto da Lele and make sure you VALIDATE your bus and train tickets after you buy them.  If after purchasing your transpo ticket, you forget to validate that you are indeed ON the bus (via this little electronic machine), police officers can charge you the maximum fare times who knows how much and the penalty fee goes up and up and up after ‘x’ number of days.  Please learn from my mistakes, as the online ticketing/payment system is on the fritz and I had to send an international wire transfer from my bank last week.  But back to the pictures….

semi-retired gondoliers and salami

apparently, all i do is take pictures of boats in a line

Sorry sorry sorry that this post was so long.  If you have a problem with its length, please take it up with management, who’ll be stationed at the ‘LOVE’ statue in Milan all afternoon.

I went to TOO many places and did TOO many things and I’m already TOO three weeks behind on this blog.  Technically, I’ve already come and gone from a two-week assignment in FRANCE (after Italy) and now I’m in PORTUGAL as of this Wednesday!  Time flies when you’re wandering into ancient Roman marriage ceremonies and gladiator battle reenactments on your days off……… watching gladiators as they vape in-between battles……… and new husbands as they pour olive oil onto dirty rags and throw walnuts at their guests.  (The narration was in Italian; I had no idea what was going on.)

WHAT is happening and WHO is winning

All I know for sure is that I’m going to miss Peter, Lorenzo, Lowww-ra, and the entire volunteer pack over at Tenuta San Lorenzo.  Thanks for the laughs.  Thanks for the memories.  And thanks for the beyond delicious house red.

Here are some more random shots:

and these are sandwich bag twist ties

here’s peter filling up the nightly wine jug in the basement

here’s lorenzo planting new vines manually.  it really takes a lotta OOMPH.

lowww-ra does it all

And finally……… my life wouldn’t be complete without a little shadow dancing vineyard-style (while the boss wasn’t watching).

Arrivederci!  Until next time!  Grazie di tutto!  Ciao!