Chianti is for Lovers

The more time you spend in Italy, the more you fall in love with it.  Today has only made my thoughts repeat over and over "What the hell am I going to do when I get back to America?"  There is nothing like this country - especially in Chianti.  Today, the CEA students took a trip to Castello di Verrazzano (Castle of Verrazzano), which is atop the most beautiful hills in between Florence and Siena.  For those of you who have ventured to New York, you may recall the name of a certain bridge named for Giovanni Verrazzano who discovered the bay of New York and the main part of the East Coast of America.  Here at Castellano di Verrazzano, the family has taken to wine making, along with meat curing, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil.  I'm telling you, this place is a sight to behold.  The drive out from Firenze was about 45 minutes of twisty turny roads.  Mind you, we were in a huge coach bus, just barely missing tiny cars scooting along the streets. All along the way were tons and tons of olive trees lined perfectly in rows behind the cutest terracotte roofed houses.  One thing that I really enjoyed was that at the end of the rows was usually a single chair where I imagine the owner taking a seat to simply sit and enjoy looking out at the green countryside.  This is the Italy I want. 

When we got to Castellano, we were given a tour of the whole place. Enormous barrels with enough Chianti to fill the lake outside my house and then still have some left over for dinner were everywhere.  Each one made is with a different type of wood, in order to ensure different tones of leather or rose or walnut.  During our wine tasting, I was told that these tones can only be picked up from each person's individual "olfactory archives" - things we have smelled throughout our lives that remind us of the scents.  I'll need a bit more practice on what our guide said in his Italian accented English, "I don't know, I thinks you need to smell life."  I could not agree more sir!  They say that smelling wine is half the experience of drinking it and now I truly understand why. 

Following the wine tasting, lunch was to be served.  Fresh bread and olive oil so fresh I swear I could taste the dirt it was grown in was placed on the table.  Waitresses then brought out a large bowl of penne pasta with marinara sauce - by far the best pasta I have ever had in my life.  The simplicity of the food here is just that.  So simple.  But the flavor that comes from letting a tomato be a tomato is something not to be missed and never to be forgotten.  

 

My friends and I sat back in satisfaction when out of nowhere, “Prego?” asked a heavenly voice from above my right shoulder.  I glanced up to see a giant silver tray with all sorts of meat on it.  This meal was not over, in fact, FAR from it. The prosciutto I had just seen hanging in a cellar of the castle was now sitting on a plate for me to devour.  Salami and other sorts of charceuterie covered the whole platter.  Then, plates with bread drizzled in olive oil, bread covered in beans, bread covered in roasted onions, more meats, roasted vegetables, chickpeas, chunks of pecorino cheese were somehow stacked on the table.  I still have no idea how we fit the food on the table, let alone how I managed to fit it in my stomach.  After two hours of chatting and eating, the whole time with a giant grin on my face, the meal seemed to be coming to a close, but certainly not before dessert.  Vino de Santo (Wine of the Saints, used for special religious events like Christmas or Communion) was poured into a tiny shot sized glass to accompany the almond biscotti, emulating the sweetness of the entire day at the Castellano.  This is a day I will most certainly remember forever.

Ciao for now!  Art history tour tomorrow, so brace yourself for some knowledge bombs about to be dropped on you Americans.