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We are in rural Italy 1950′s, a view of farmlands and vineyards from our back door terrace. The weather is sunny and mid-60′s and the street out in front of our apartment allows no cars.  Currently, a semi-swap meet is happening, and every evening from 5-8-ish the folk stroll the main piazza just to meet and greet(we are being looked-over, but greeted cordially). The main thorough-fare is almost 400yards long and  there are probably 10 winebars, 4 bakeries, 2 shoe stores, 2 butchers, 1 fish market, etc, etc. Oh yes, 4 pizzerias. We tried one last night and it was fantastico.

Stress is starting to melt away, as we do our best to communicate with the town-folks. We begin in Italian, where they jibber jabber back like we were native, then we ask if they speak english (parla englese?) and then piece-meal a conversation with a little of everything but pig-latin. Everyone eats later here, and there is wine-hour instead of tea-time. I think I can get use to that. You can also bring your own empty liter into a wine store and ask them to “fill’er up” with the house table wine.

The apartment  looks out on a stupendous view and is quaint and provencial.  The streets are narrow and cobbled, and major walking requires you be a mountain goat – not difficult, but a challenge for the challenged. We are starting to ease into a slower pace, and I am cooking pasta with zuchini, tomatoes and parmesan tonight and of course, some wine. Wish you all were here, but we will try to send you the  flavors of Montalcino, Tuscany.

Ciao, for now.  Buon apetito!