day 4 :

wednesday, 17 may

Armed with recommendations from our bed and breakfast's owner, we toured several of the lesser-visited towns and sights in the Chianti region. First was Badia di Coltibuono, an old abbey that had a private walled garden and several small fields of livestock. We walked around the massive stone exterior and saw signs for their tour with wine tasting. Since it was not even mid-morning and we weren't ready to sample the wine, the tour price of 12 euros/person didn't seem like a good value just to see the interior, so we skipped it. We noticed a section of the abbey reserved for overnight guests; this place seemed ideal for people who want to get away, enjoy quiet solitude, and walk along the extensive trails that wind through the beautiful vineyard and fields.

Gaiole in Chianti is a typical small town in this region, with a church, a central piazza where all of the locals gather, and one road through town. We arrived just before lunchtime, so we strolled down the main street, which was parallel to the country highway and ran alongside a nearly-dry stream bed. When the telltale church bells rang noon, we headed toward the piazza (along with all the workers starting their lunch breaks, it seemed) and found an outdoor table at Bianchi cafe. Lunch was simple but filling, and the Illy espresso after the meal was perfect and just the thing to begin our afternoon travels.

We stopped briefly in Vertine — a very small, very cute hilltop town, only open to pedestrians. We parked outside and passed through a gothic-arched portal to enter the tiny town. Vertine is essentially a medieval fortified village, dating from 1013 (or possibly earlier), and given its high location it was once a strategic point for skirmishes in the Chianti region. These days, it's a quiet little retreat, filled with colorful flowers and interestingly-shaped doors on the homes. We particularly enjoyed its panoramic views of Chianti's vineyards and other towns.

Like Winnie-the-Pooh, we felt it was time for a little something, so we decided to return to Castellina in Chianti to try the gelato place that was closed yesterday. We were thankful that we returned, since La Gelateria Delizia served some of the best gelato we had on our trip. The limone and frutti di bosco gelato in a chocolate and nut waffle cone hit the spot.

Our last stop was in the town of Greve, situated at the bottom of a valley and built on the river Greve. There was a distinct air of busy-ness here, unlike the other sleepy villages we had just finished seeing. The town's main piazza is large and triangular, and has been a market and commercial site for centuries. We could see the nearby 15th-century Franciscan monastery towering above as we walked around and peered into the shops. Our timing was just off on this visit, though — we saw flyers for a large artisan market to be held in the piazza the following day. Nevertheless, we made our visit worthwhile by stopping in Antica Macelleria Falorni, a famous butcher shop that has been in the town for nearly 300 years. They had every kind of cured meat and cheese product imaginable on display. We decided to pick up some sausage to share with our cooking class the following week. After a lot of browsing, we decided on two whole salami that are specialties Tuscany — cinghiale (wild boar) and finocchiona (fennel).

While planning our trip, we read about a unique restaurant called Da Antonio, located in Castelnuovo Berardenga, a short drive from where we were staying. Although Tuscany borders the Mediterranean Sea, you don't see seafood on many menus in the Chianti region; instead, you'll find local specialties like Pappa al Pomodoro (a peasant bread and tomato soup) and Bistecca Fiorentina (Florentine steak). Da Antonio, on the other hand, serves only seafood — fresh fish and shellfish that's brought in direct from the coast every day. Not only that, but you go there to have Antonio cook whatever he wants for you. There's a wine list, but no food menu. You just sit down, enjoy your sparkling wine aperitif, and watch as each course of beautifully-prepared seafood arrives. This sounded perfect to us, so we decided to give it a try tonight. After wandering around for a while, Eric asked one of locals in the town's main piazza for directions to the restaurant. (The beauty about Italy is that every little town has a few people hanging around the main square, day and night, and they're always willing to share a bit of their knowledge and guide you on your way.) We found the restaurant a few minutes later, and enjoyed a filling and tasty meal: simply-dressed sea bass carpaccio with fennel and scampi; arugula salad with prawns and thinly-sliced porcini; eggplant puree and monkfish; artichoke and squid salad with tomato and basil; prawns with zucchini blossoms and baby shrimp tempura; fettuccine with prawns and verdure; baked sea bass with artichokes, potatoes, large prawns, and asparagus; and finally, a lemon sorbet. You may have noticed that this meal was full of prawns — good for shrimp lovers, not so good for Dawn, who tolerates shrimp but doesn't love it. We had hoped for a bit more variety of finfish and shellfish.

The restaurant had three rooms. We were in the middle room, and the back room was filled with an extended family who were obviously either frequent patrons or good friends of the restaurant staff. Soccer was on everyone's mind, since there was a game blaring on the television that night, and the kids were dressed in soccer jerseys, dribbling a soccer ball through the dining room. When they wandered into our room, the ball bounced off our chairs, and the wait staff halfheartedly shoed the kids back into the back room. When that obviously wasn't working, they put the kids to work, serving food to their family as it came ready in the kitchen.

Because there isn't a menu, we only had our guidebook to tell us what the meal might cost. When it ended up costing the equivalent of a Michelin 2-star restaurant (translation: very expensive), and then they told us they didn't take credit cards, we realized we didn't have that kind of cash on us. Note that the travel book we read ahead of time listed the restaurant's prices as significantly less than the current rates, and they also stated that the restaurant accepted credit cards. So, we were not too happy to find ourselves owing a whole lot of money that we didn't have on us (nor did we feel that the food, despite being good, was worth the price on the bill). Eric dashed out into the night in search of a Bancomat, which was fortunately only a few blocks away. After this fiasco, we learned this phrase for future outings: “Accete la carte di credito?”