Una Cucina Piccola

There is a saying in Italian,  “Una cucina piccola fa una casa grande,” which roughly translates to “a small kitchen makes for a big home.” I certainly hope that is true because the kitchen in my new apartment is not just small but laughably tiny (really, at least one friend broke out in peels of laughter when I showed her the kitchen). Because I love to cook, this kitchen was a definite compromise and almost a deal breaker. 

Not only is it tiny, but while equipped with a four-burner stove and dishwasher, it actually has no oven! I missed this fact when I first looked at, and fell in love with, the rest of the apartment. It was only after leaving and trying to imagine where I would put all my pots, pans, plates, etc. in that tiny kitchen that I began to wonder why I couldn’t remember where the oven was. Then it dawned on me - OMG, there is no oven!

Though small, the apartment has charming spaces - like this cozy reading nook. For me, it was love at first sight.

My first instinct was that I couldn’t possibly live without an oven. But the apartment had most everything else I was looking for - top of the list being that it was on the ground floor. It also had big windows with a pretty view, was beautifully furnished, and loaded with Italian charm. Though small (roughly 600 square feet), it felt bigger due to its high-beamed ceilings and two lofts. It was also priced right and in my preferred area of the city. It was missing only two things: outdoor space (I do miss the terrace I had in my former apartment) and that oven. In the spirit of adventure, and because I really did need to give up the 38 steep steps to my old apartment, I decided to take the smaller, oven-less apartment and somehow make it work.

No microwave? No problem - this little stainless-steel pitcher allows me to heat milk for coffee right on the gas burner.

The first purchase I made for my new space was a DeLonghi countertop electric oven and some small pans to fit into it. Because my counterspace is limited, I sacrificed the microwave that originally sat on the counter to make room for the electric oven. I also had an IKEA rail installed above the stove to hang pots, utensils, and a shelf for some spices. In a tiny kitchen, little space savers like this make a big difference.

This IKEA rail system adds functional storage.

As I began writing this post, I had some tarragon chicken thighs in the oven, my first attempt at roasting. So far, so good. It smelled delicious and turned out perfectly - crisp skin on the outside, tender and moist on the inside. The next day I made a batch of roasted cauliflower in anchovy oil, another favorite of mine. With the chicken and the cauliflower I encountered one limitation of my little oven (besides its size) - the maximum temperature is 200 degrees Centigrade (400 Fahrenheit). Because both these recipes called for a hotter oven, I made a few adjustments in cooking time and used the convection setting on the oven. With these minor adjustments, both dishes turned out just as tasty as in a regular oven.

My little oven has also worked well for toast, reheating foods, and my first attempt at baking - a batch of lemon-glazed muffins, which turned out perfectly.  

Making just a third of a lemon bread recipe equals six perfect muffins,

Though small, the kitchen is quite comfortable to work in thanks to a cutting board that fits over the sink drainboard to expand the counter prep space, deep drawers that house cookware, and some high-level organization on my part. Eliminating all the kitchen items that aren’t essentials and donating my full-size baking dishes to a friend helped too. Luckily I have extra space in a dining room china cabinet and some pretty blue IKEA storage cubes, which moved with me from my old apartment, for extra storage.

Small spaces demand creative storage solutions - baskets and exposed shelving really expand storage possibilities.

I’ve actually looking forward to seeing just what kinds of cooking I can do in my tiny space. So far, soups, stews, pastas, and frittatas have been easy. And though my cooking and entertaining spaces are smalI, I had a group of friends over for a Sunday lunch just before lockdown was declared. I found I could sit five to six people comfortably around my dining room table and that cooking for that size group was no problem. For entertaining, stovetop cooking and dishes I can make ahead (like the crepes I served for dessert) are my best bets. But I definitely will not be cooking the turkey for Thanksgiving this year.  -post by Joanne

Trekking in Tuscany

The hills of Tuscany practically beg to be explored. Winding roads take you into them but can only carry you so far. Hiking, however, lets you experience the hills and valleys and lush green vegetation up close. But don’t be fooled by the seemingly benign undulation of Tuscany’s hills – they often are steeper than they appear!

Heading up through tall grass

On a recent Saturday morning, I joined a group of hikers for a trek in the hills above Camiaore, a city northwest of Lucca. As on most hikes I’ve taken around Italy, the great outdoors was not the only highlight of the excursion. Tuscan hills are home to villages and villas, farms and frantoios (olive oil manufacturers), abandoned stone buildings and altars. You can be in thick, overgrown vegetation one minute and then walk out of it to see a massive stone cross erected who knows how long ago.

Passing by a small farm

Of course, being able to be in nature with views that on clear days let you glimpse the sea to the west is an experience unto itself. On my recent hike, dark clouds threatened rain but only a few drops fell. The sun made an occasional appearance. But even under thick cloud cover, the views were stunning (once we climbed out of the bushes). Wildflowers added small strokes of color – violet, yellow, white, red – to the green canvas. We saw evidence that wild boars had been in the area. We passed by a few wild cherry trees and sampled just a bit of the tart but tasty fruit.

Our hike wasn’t long – only about six miles in total – but it was a great way to begin the weekend. And, as always, whetted my appetite for future explorations. -post by Judy

Cross in the hills

Altar

Closeup of altar

A fountain

That barely visible opening to the left is the trail.



And a Handful of Cherries

This long, strange spring is drawing to a close and we are now on the brink of summer. Here in Italy we are seeing a fairly rapid (some believe too rapid) loosening of lockdown restrictions and we continue to celebrate steep declines in new COVID-19 infections and death rates.

Official announcement of the first day with no deaths in northern Tuscany!

Here in northern Tuscany, May 24 marked the first day since the beginning of the COVID crisis with no deaths. This was announced by the local government with great enthusiasm. But also with a reminder that we are not finished with this virus (or, perhaps more accurately, it is not yet finished with us) but things are definitely headed in the right direction. There is a bit of a collective holding of the breath now to see if, with fewer restrictions and more social mobility, the rates of disease will begin to rise again. This is a well-founded concern - cases are already increasing in the hard-hit region of Lombardy in northern Italy. A second wave is a frightening prospect, and finding the right balance between restrictions and daily life is not clear cut.

So, what has changed in the past two weeks as we’ve entered phase two? Here are the big things: It began with an increased ability for individuals to be out and about and for families to be able to meet.  Then, it was announced that it was no longer mandatory to carry paperwork declaring a valid reason for being out of one’s home. This has allowed us to move about freely in our local areas. 

Lucca’s famous walls are once again open. What a joy!

A huge change came the week of May 18 when it was announced that meeting with friends, in homes and outside, was now permitted.  That was followed shortly by the reopening of bars and restaurants, with strict limits on distancing (which, sadly, are already being ignored in many bars).  Restrictions remain, including the need to wear masks in shops and also outside when around other people. I estimate that here in Lucca about 80 percent of people are following the guidelines. Police cars circulate, reminding people about masks and distancing, but I have not observed them actually enforcing these rules. 

In this first week of June, travel throughout Italy, as well as in and out of other EU nations, will be possible.  Travel from many other parts of the world, including the U.S., Canada, and Australia, is still forbidden with no set date for it to resume. Best guess is that no tourism from those countries will be permitted this summer.

For me, it’s the small changes that bring the most joy. One of the first things I noticed was the change in sounds as I walked through town. Passing a just reopened bar/cafe one morning, I smiled at the sounds of coffee making - the hiss of the espresso machine, the clink of coffee cup meeting saucer, the banter of the barrister with a client at the bar. I had not realized how much I missed those sounds. Hearing them again was music to my ears.  Actually sitting outside in a beautiful piazza, sharing a coffee with a friend, was a welcome slice of nearly normal.

A simple stop at a cafe for breakfast feels extravagantly wonderful.

There is also an increase in the sounds of children out and about at play, riding bikes, laughing with their parents, fishing in the canal that runs through Lucca, chattering in that lovely lilting child’s Italian. What a reassuring and joyful noise they make.

There are also the smells - the scent of bread coming from one of the local bakeries, the smell of Sunday lunch being cooked in an apartment down the street as I pass by an open window. Perhaps my favorite early summer scent is the sweet note of star jasmine in bloom, looking gorgeous spilling over a wall not too far from my home. The freedom to walk through town enjoying these seemingly ordinary sensory experiences feels extraordinary after several months of COVID-related restrictions.

And the markets! Instead of hurried trips to the nearest store for essentials, a quick in and out or perhaps waiting outside while the merchant gathered goods, we now have the luxury of going across town to a market and even of taking a bit more time to shop. While the number of people allowed in at one time is still limited, and for the most part the merchant chooses and bags fruit and veggies rather than the customer doing it themselves, it all feels just a bit more relaxed now. It’s wonderful to be able to go in and take just a few seconds for a chat with the merchant. There is an increased sense of lightness about interactions these days, and the typical Italian charm and friendliness are on full display. The other day, after discussing with the fruttivendolo my apple preference (tart or sweet, green or red), my desired cauliflower size (piccolo per favore), and pointing to the basket of fragole (strawberries) that I wanted, the merchant bagged my groceries and, just as a kindness, added in a handful of cherries. I ate them as soon as I got home - the sweetness of Italy, and it tasted just perfect. -post by Joanne

Outside the Walls of Lucca

We mention le mura (the walls) of Lucca a lot in this blog – they are iconic, historic, the city’s “central park.” Residents and visitors alike spend time on the walls walking, bicycling, running, skating, meeting up with friends, or simply sitting on a bench and looking at the beauty of Lucca and the surrounding Tuscan hills. But outside le mura there is a lot of green space too. Sometimes I choose to walk there – for a change of pace (no pun intended) and because there often are fewer people. In this age of Covid-19, even though Italy’s lockdown is easing, I still think it’s best to avoid large groups of people (could also be the introvert in me).

A view from outside the walls of Lucca, where green space still abounds.

Getting outside the walls is easy: In addition to the six large “portas” of the walls (through which cars can also come and go), there are numerous exits and entrances that go under the walls – tunnels that lead pedestrians and bicyclists from the center of town (centro storico) to the rest of Lucca.

Once outside, people can walk in grassy fields that surround the walls or on sidewalks that encircle the city. Many parts of the sidewalks are lined with trees. When looking over to the walls, there is a sea of green grass – dotted with wildflowers – and the vibrantly green tree-topped walls under an often-amazingly blue Tuscan sky. There is also a canal that can be seen at various points along the outside of the walls.

Roses galore - frangrant and full bushes of roses - welcome people to Lucca at some of the portas.

To the other side, there is the rest of the city – the train station on the south, and a sampling of historic Liberty-style villas, some of which still serve as homes while others now house businesses. While there can be heavy traffic during “normal” workweeks, it isn’t bad on weekends. And since weekends are when the walls tend to be busier, outside le mura can be less hectic on Saturdays and Sundays.

Though I like to hike in mountains or walk along the beach at the sea, getting that far into nature isn’t always possible. The green space that is available inside and outside the walls of Lucca is one of the many aspects of living here that I love. Not a day goes by when a walk in nature isn’t possible. - post by Judy

Coming into Lucca from outside the walls.

Almost Italy, Texas

Bellagio, Lake Como. A place I visited on my first trip to Italy.

Most travel lovers have an ideal destination, a place they long to visit that fills their dreams and speaks to them of adventure and of that “other” life they might have lived. For me that place has always been Italy.

I spent a year planning my first trip, wanting to be sure I got it right. I took language classes, researched cities and hotels, restaurants and train schedules, Italian culture and art. I arrived in Italy that summer of 1996 a somewhat nervous, caffeine-free, nondrinking, novice traveler. I left Italy 14 days later a lover of good wine and espresso, of all things Italian, and a full-fledged travel junkie. To say that trip changed my life is an understatement.

Florence, Ponte Vecchio. Another one of the places I visited on my first trip to Italy

After that first trip I returned to Italy many times (and now I live there). Over time, I’ve learned to love travel for the escape from the routine, from the ordinary, along with exposure to new people, food, and ways of thinking and the new, different me that comes with every trip. I know that the same is true for many of you! And now, in the time of the Covid-19 pandemic, travel to anywhere in Europe, even to other areas of Italy outside of Tuscany, is not possible. And though I have remained in Italy through the crisis, I know that if I return to the U.S. this summer to see my family, it is possible that I will not be allowed to return to Italy until sometime in 2021. That is a painful possibility and it started me thinking of another time, many years ago, when a trip to Italy was impossible for me (although for very different reasons). Here is the story of the trip I couldn’t take then:

More than a decade ago, I was planning a much anticipated return trip to Italy. As the time approached to finalize plans it became clear that the trip would not be possible. For starters, I’d spent the miles I needed for a “free” ticket earlier in the year to get my son home for Christmas (which proves how much I love that kid, because I am famously stingy with miles). Being short of miles meant I would have to purchase a full-fare airline ticket, something my budget then just didn’t allow. Being a true travel junkie I knew that I needed to find another adventure, a smaller less expensive one. Enter a friend and travel buddy who proposed that if I couldn’t go to Italy I should instead travel with her to …. Texas. Texas? This hardly seemed like a good alternative to Italy. But as we talked more about it I realized there were some things that were appealing. I’d long wanted to see San Antonio – every American should stand in the Alamo at least once. I also love antiques and good old-fashion junk, so the Roundtop Antiques Fair was a real draw. My friend, who is from Texas, also told stories about wildflowers and painted churches. Not quite Italy, but it would be a good trip she assured me.

The Alamo Photo by Dean_Fikar/iStock / Getty Images

That spring we flew to Texas where we were met by my friend's brother and sister-in-law. They were a couple of real-deal native Texans, a species in some ways just as foreign to me as Italians. But all of the qualities that I love in Italians were present, starting with being outgoing and friendly to the core. They loved their land and were proud to show it off to this “foreigner.” They loved good food and wine and knew where to find both. They took me in and made me feel like family. And, just as important, if they talked slow enough, I could understand most of what they said even with my limited grasp of the Texan language. I learned new words like “Luling” (a place worth driving to just to eat barbeque at City Market), “pig” (which I’d always thought was an animal on a farm but, come to find out, is a whole food group), “jeeping” (this city girl thinks of Jeeps as big road vehicles, imagine my delight in learning that when jeeping the vehicle is open, the roads are dirt, the wind blows, and the wildflowers surround you along the back roads of the most gorgeous countryside), “cow” (something for milking and definitely not the animals I was seeing in the fields which I learned were cattle) and “margharita” (ok, so I already knew what a margharita was, but it takes on new meaning when drinking one along the Riverwalk in San Antonio). 

Texas Wildflowers - a dazzling display. Photo by P. Baker, used with permission.

There are unique experiences to be had when visiting a foreign country, which turns out to be true when visiting an unfamiliar area of your own country as well. I’ve always loved the small village churches in Italy and was delighted to discover the beautiful painted churches of Fayette County, Texas. They are living works of art and tell the story of those early Texas settlers and their immigrant roots.

St. Mary's church Praha, Texas - one of the beautiful painted churces of Fayette County. (photo from church website)

Just as in Italy, many of the painted churches bear the name of Saint Mary (Santa Maria in Italian). The church of St. Mary’s in High Hill (which, due to my limited translation of the Texan language I initially thought was the church of St. Mary’s in High Heels), and of St. Mary’s in Praha, were both lovely, serene, and beautiful. Seeing them was a perfect excuse for a drive through the countryside.

Painted detail, St. Mary’s in High Hill, Texas. Photo by P.Baker, used with permission.

Small towns are a cultural experience in and of themselves. I knew that I’d be visiting my new friends’ small hometown, but in truth I had no idea what small really meant. Small in this case meant fewer than 300 people. Small as in no espresso cafes (none, zip, not one, which, I admit, was my biggest adjustment), no malls, no gourmet groceries (who needs imported cheese or olives anyway?). Small as in everyone really does know everyone else. Small as in a picturesque town square, safe streets, an amazing sense of peace, and profound quiet except for the reassuring sound of a train passing through each night. One thing that was very big in this small town was the Round Top Antiques Festival.

Round Top is an antique lover’s dream whether your thing is high end or “junk.”  A day and a half of wandering wasn’t enough to visit all the stalls in the several towns that play host. Thankfully I had a native Texan and accomplished shopper to guide me to just the right places to find what I needed. I use the word “needed” loosely as it seems what I needed was a pair of silver sugar tongs, a beautiful silver and moonstone necklace, and a vintage carved bird as a gift for my father-in-law. I also learned to bargain and haggle, which seems to make any purchase just a little more satisfying. As it turns out my friend was right all along, this was a great trip and Texas, with its perfect combination of the familiar and the foreign, was a real adventure. The things that make any trip rewarding -  experiencing a different way of life, eating new foods, trying new things, making new friends, learning a little something new about myself – were all there. I didn’t miss Italy so much, other than those few minutes longing for a really good espresso, and since that trip each spring I remember Bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, and lovely painted churches.  Sometimes our travel plans (and our lives) don’t work out quite the way we planned - but if we look for a Plan B, we just may find something wonderful. I wish everyone a wonderful Plan B until the time when Italy once again draws us in.        -post by Joanne

Painted detail, Sts. Cyril and Methodius Church. Dubina, Texas. Photo by P. Baker, used with permission.