I was mopping the floors and thinking about how much I miss nature today. Green grass. Open spaces. The horizon. Trees and branches, buds and blooms. The great, great , great divide that’s dividing us all. I rarely see the moon. Stars never. But they are near and dear to this city. You feel them close even if you can’t see them. And I realize it is a city I can live in for one word and one word only – not “beauty”, not “history” not “grace” or any other word that seems to sing in one’s mind when we think of Florence, but because it is “organic”. It’s alive. It breaths and decays and crumbles as we all are doing. Parts are powdering into dust everywhere you look. Parts of it smell good other parts stink – piss and blooms and birdsong mingle in a single alley way. Shadows are cast and fade. It is alive as surely as I am alive and I live in its heart and am a part of its crazy fucked up metabolism. Nonetheless, in the hot days of summer we go seeking for “nature” – and find more often than not “human nature” – in the piazzas, in the small claustrophobic parks, resting on a park bench, or in the cool doorway of an old church. No rolling hills, no amber waves of grain. But life cycles, cycling and cycling before our very eyes.
Olio nuovo, vino novello and some very old cheese…that was Saturday’s lunch. I saw this picture my husband shot of the aftermath and thought it wa worth posting. This past Saturday morning was like most Saturday mornings. Lots of running around trying to fill the house back up with food and diapers and all those little things we forgot during the week like lightbulbs and deodorant.
To make all the running around on medieval streets with two clunky strollers and two fussy kids worth it we make a point of always buying two extra treats for our own sanity: wine and cheese.
And we always buy it right under our house , and yes right under our apartment where the Fattoria san Michele a Torri has a small little outlet. It’s a little paradise for food lovers. There is hardly any assortment as they only sell their own products…but what there is is worth every penny. I usually pick up fresh pasta or their ravioli’s made with either fresh ricotta and spinach or potatoes. I know you are like what? Potatoes? Yes potatoes people…ravioli with potatoes are heavenly! They call them tortelli di patate mugellellani around these parts and are served usually with a wild boar rague. We are laso pretty addicted to the farm’s pecorino di grotta, an deep and flavourful pecorino cheese we like to dip in acacia honey after a meal..or before :-)).
Today we dipped in right before they were closing and picked up a kilo of thier homemade stone ground bread, 400 grams of ravioli with spinich, and a chunk of the pecorino di grota. The kind sir working there even threw in a bottle of their vino novelle. He almost oplogized when he gave it to me as if it was not that great of a wine but could be enjoyed if one drank it very quickly.
Well quickly we drank it indeed! It was slightly sparkling and went down like fruity water…perfect with the ravioli that I didn’t even have time to make a sauce for, perfect withthe aged cheese and honey, perfect for two tired parents who needed to cope with the kids before nap time. It was a wonderul lunch and here is how we left it.
I picked up a lot of about 20 of these Art Nouveau magazines a while back and fell in love…
Ezio Anichini was born in Flornece and did many of the covers for the monthly magazine throught the 10s and 20s. In my mind he is up there with Mucha and many of the Art Nouveau greats. If I didn’t have a small 8 month old baby who needed my attention right now I would go on and on about him. I will leave you with some of his work …it speaks for itself!
Today was Simone’s turn to pick up Amedeo from day care. He goes on his bike usually during his lunch break and they both arrive home pretty tired and hungry. I usually try to have something ready for Simone and a little treat for Ame when they walk in the door..being the good but desperate casalinga that I am…
Today lunch was pretty light (and my stomach is actully grawling again after posting these photos:-))…there was not much in the fridge to work with so I just boiled up a few potatoes and served them steaming hot with some cherry tomatoes, arugula and yes…a half finished can of canned corn…
that’s all there was…ohh yes…one prune each and a glass of tap water…
it was actually pretty delicious and Amedeo liked his fruit plate with his new favorite… pomegranate seeds!
A place to start this blog. Dad, grandma, fuchsia cockscomb, lead glass cocktail shaker, black indian ink…this is where it is and where it is headed.