At Home in Piemonte

Size 39, worn once and thrown against wall several times.  Inquire at the main site.

HAUT DIE KIRSCHE REIN JUNGS!!!, originally uploaded by ceramista.

Translated: Kick the cherry in boys!!! Tonight: EUROPEAN FOOTBALL CHAMPIONSHIP FINALS -   SPAIN VS. GERMANY

Guess who I want to win?

Max and Ken, originally uploaded by ceramista.

One of our favorite guests, and one of Max’s good buddies, enjoying a couple of moments of togetherness on the driveway. Please not Max’s attempt to get his butt scratched (push push) and Ken’s obvious preference for doling out a chin massage.  I love this photo.

Right around the corner, another milestone. As I stare down my almost fifty year old face in the mirror, I think, well, it’s really ok. Not a bad face. It is a face which does not betray the events it has experienced, except maybe for a few lines around my mouth, which can easily be set into a panicked expression, scared, but then as easily can be converted, as need be, or as desired, into a soft smile. In those creases are some of my darkest moments and some of my most precious memories. The two very deep lines which nearly cut my forehead in half — those are the ones spent worrying. Worrying about everything that was possible to worry about. I have had some interesting conversations in the last weeks about plastic surgery and Botox, and if I would ever do it, those two lines would be the first to go. My forehead would be caught in an expressionless cream-puff of smoothness. I would still be worrying mind you. But I would go to  the mirror and think, man, this chick is either dull or happy. So it would be a lie. I guess I will live with my worry slashes. They are too ingrained in my personality now for me to be able to let them go.

In the last seven months, I have had four people and one dog I care very much about diagnosed with cancer. All have been an ocean away from me when diagnosed. I have gone through the tests, the surgeries, the chemos, and the radiations from a distance which makes me feel like I am watching these events through a prism. I am utterly helpless to do anything but listen at the other end of the phone, to frantically do internet research, to cry in the night, and to pray (in the only way I can, through thought and deed). I have had to come to a place of peace about this because I know I cannot allow myself a moment’s self pity about the distance. Their cancers are not about me. Although I momentarily have the sensation that I am dodging bullets and those bullets are hitting the ones that I love. This, sickness, is also a big part of fifty. The statistics bear it out. We start to get sick. If we have not taken care of ourselves, we are really starting to notice now. We have, at this age, started losing friends and spouses and parents, and some have lost children. Most of us have lost pets. Loss becomes a definitive factor for most of us, and part of our experience base. For me, it is in the sad lines of my face when I look in the mirror. I guess I want to hold on to those, too.

I have started wanting to look sexier. You know, a decent hair cut, I am covering the grey right now, and make up every day. I don’t know. I do have a great looking husband (one of the reasons he looks so great is because of how comfortable he is in his own skin, there ain’t nothing sexier than that) and man, twenty-odd years into this relationship, I want to keep it somewhat pulled together for him. I don’t, however, want to look twenty. The sad lines and forehead slashes preclude this, not to mention the general toll gravity is taking on other body parts. So my thinking is, just make the most of whatever there is. Good makeup, nicely cut clothes, a fresh scent. And enough sleep and less wine and more pro-biotics. Well, at least enough sleep and more pro-biotics.

And since my memory sure ain’t what is was, not that was ever that great, I have resolved to be a better list maker. My friend Birgit, who is here with me from Berlin helping with the B&B, has astounded me with her in-depth knowledge of what I do and do not have in my storage closet. We were at the grocery store, I wanted to buy toilet paper and she informed me that we still had 12 rolls. Since I was not aware that we had any, I found this to be amazing. It seems she actually checks what she has before shopping. And she is a list maker. Ok, I am going to try to be better at this, because I can see that it will add to my general quality of life, which suffers when I try to stuff the 47th roll of toilet paper into the closet.

One thing I have worked hard on letting go of. Telling people what I think they want to hear. Being what I think they want me to be. I have had to stop that to save my own soul, and I feel so much better. I feel more like the individual I always knew I was, but could never really accept. Hitting fifty has its advantages, and being whoever the hell you are is certainly one of them.

So, that is life at this bend in the road. I’m still standing, a few more lines, a lot more experience. Not always easy. But not bad either.

I have been working on variations on the themes which I traditionally hold to for our breakfast offerings.  My lovely friend Birgit from Berlin is here with me.  She has graciously sacrificed three weeks vacation to help me at the B&B.  She herself is a very accomplished cook and has a wonderful eye for decoration. Together we have been having some fun creating some simple yet appetizing dishes for our guests.  Here are some photos to show you the things we have been serving.

Phyllo with Ricotta Lemon Creme and Blueberries, originally uploaded by ceramista.

These lovely squares of phyllo dough fried in sunflower oil serve as a lovely stage set for ricotta which has been flavored with vanilla, lemon juice and lemon rind, then topped with blueberries and freshly-in-bloom lavander flowers.

La Tur served with Fig Marmalata on Fig Leaves, originally uploaded by ceramista.

We had one last spoonful of my friend Jerry’s awesome Fig Jam made with aged Balsamico, and decided to treat our guests to fabulous La Tur Robiola served with the jam on a fig leaf as the breakfast appetizer.

Figasms, originally uploaded by ceramista.

Named by Palma, created by me, this is a homage to the simple fig. Figs quartered, and, together with Gorgonzola Dolce, are wrapped in prociutto di Parma, and then sauteed in honey butter.  I originally posted about these back in 2006.

When we opened the B&B we decided right off the bat to include the mini bar and the house wine in our room price. The reason for this? Me being aggravated. Aggravated  every time I would get to a hotel and open the mini bar to find a two gulp bottle of water which cost 5 euros. Aggravated  because all I really wanted before going to bed was glass of red wine and my book and unless I had actually had the presence of mind to shop for a bottle earlier, I would end up just, well, really irate (maybe the sign of a drinking problem? I’ll shove that thought out of my mind for now).

So. Then the next step was to decide what kind of wine would we want to offer. My intent was to ward off snickers from people who would look at the website and think to themselves “I bet the house wine sucks, they probably are just getting rid of some vinegar they found in the basement.” (See, my mind works in really strange ways. ) So we set out on a long process. We decided we wanted three different bottles in each room: a dolcetto, which is a Monferrato must; a barbera, which is the other Monferrato must; and a local white. The white could be a Cortese or a Roero or even a light Chardonnay, just as long as the growing area was local.

Next step: Find a vineyard which makes this particular selection of wines, which does so at a very good quality level, for a fair price (well, it is house wine after all!). 18 months, forty vineyards and two sore livers later, we happened upon a bottle of wine while enjoying dinner at Ristorante San Guido in Acqui Terme. A very good bottle of Barbera. The producer was located in Nizza Monferrato, in the area where the best Barbera d’Asti is produced. We thought, ok, we’ll give the guy a call, and pay him a visit.

His name is Giovanni Piacenza. It took us a few takes, driving past his house, to find him. But when we found him, we knew we had hit a home run. A great guy, boisterous, Piemontese, with a tan face, grey hair and an ear to ear grin. And a winery that had been in the family for generations. His cantina, located in the basement of his house, consists of three rooms: one for the tanks, one for the stored wine, and one with a long table for pasta lunches with his guys and his clients. His wine list consisted of: Barbera. Dolcetto. Chardonnay. Chardonnay brut sparkling wine. We tasted, we tested, and we knew we had found our partner.

This is our third season with Giovanni’s wines in our room. The 2007 Barbera is incredible — we can’t believe we can offer it to our guests for free. I am heading over there this afternoon with our guests to replenish the coffers and for a real “down home Italian” experience. Saluti from bella Piemonte.