My lovely friends and family, yesterday started as any other. A morning run through a vinyard, a few hours in a master class, some lessons and coachings and a little practicing for good measure. One of many lovely things I will say about Italian culture is this: "riposo" time is genius. Every day from about 2 to 4, every thing shuts down. Schools, businesses, even some restaurants...entire cities go dark and sleepy Greve is no exception. Naturally I want to immerse myself fully in this way of life, be it linguistically, culinarily or otherwise and...well...it would just be rude not to take part in such an integral part of daily life. I simply don't understand how New York runs without this beautiful glorified nap time. I may have been a bit gluttonous with my riposo, but two and a half hours later and I was raring to go. Lucky me, friend Leigh was way ahead of me.
"Wanna go hiking?"
...um, YES!
Now many of you may think this hiking trip would consist of tranquil dirt paths and trails through vinyards. Leigh and I, however, like the live on the edge (aka we took a wrong turn and ended up hiking along the highway).
Italian. Drivers. Are. Nuts.
They go an average of 90 mph on tiny roads with what can only be called death curves.
fortunately, Leigh and I are quite skilled at pedestrianism and made it through unscathed. Some vespa riders even waved at us...or at least we assumed they were waving, they could just as easily have been angry crude hand gestures meant to scare us off the road. Either way, we took it in stride and excitedly waved back to a few of them.
Greve is a quaint little town in the heart of Tuscany. So quaint, in fact that it tends to get a little eerie. I would call it the Italian equivalent of those little towns you see on fifties TV shows with white picket fences and mom and pop shops that line main street. We decided that Greve must have some sort of dark secret. We theorized that all of the homeless and less fortunate of Greve are hidden underground and left there to make the famous chianti the little town is known for.
Sure enough, we stumbled upon a whole bunch of little well-like thingies. By well like thingie, I mean botomless pits that look like they reach all the way down into the end of the earth
Naturally, I tried to climb down there, but to no avail. I'm sorry oh ye Greve captives...I will not give up the fight!
Of course, as one can imagine, all of that hiking and humanitarianism can get a person pretty hungry...and all we wanted...the only thing in the world we desired...
Burgers.
No pasta need apply.
Now fear not, fellow Americans, we didn't have to sell our first born children in order to make this dream a reality. We found the perfect fix to quell this nearly insatiable craving.
Behold, the pizza burger.
Best. Burger. Ever.
sorry Big Nicks, but this beauty came stacked with fresh ground beef that tasted like salsiccia, two slices of cheese, two slices of fresh tuscan tomatoes and a handful of arugula on grilled ciabatta bread. All bread in Tuscany is saltless, which make the other parts of the burger particularly tasty and special
A burger after a hike like that definitely merited a nice chilly Italian beer.
And, of course, a picture with the lovely chap who made it.
Thank you Greve....
in a BIG way.
A domani, ragazzi
Liz
No comments:
Post a Comment