Monday, June 20, 2016

Siena food

In a city the size of Siena, Italy (80,000 or so souls) there is surely some 'not so good food'. But in the week we were there I didn't find any.

I actually ate pasta with wild boar. I would have told you a week ago I would never, ever, not in a million years, eat wild boar. But I did. And it was magnificent (though I hate to admit it)!

I ate lots of pasta and lots of cured meat and lots of cheese in Siena. And all of it was wondrous. The last night, in Rome, I had swordfish in a remarkable onion sauce as well.

Once for lunch at the Palio in Siena, I had procuttia (sp--my spell check is being difficult), the best half a cantalope I've ever had and a motzarella ball the size of a baseball. Incredible.

There was this one rustic, local place a short walk from the villa where we ate two dinners, where only the chef really spoke English. She came out each time to translate our orders to the waiter. After the second night (she was delighted--folks in Italy really want to use their English skills) I went back to the kitchen and thanked her for her translation and more, much more, for her food.

Even the few meals we cooked in the villa were seemingly better than they would have been at home. Eggs and butter are much better Italian style. I did a dinner of Pica (the ultra fat spaghetti of Siena) with oil, creamy butter, red onion, arrugla and lots of cheese that I couldn't reproduce here on a bet.

Siena is simply a place for food.

And we ate it and ate it and ate it. World without End. Amen.

Thank you Italy for the food. And did I mention the wine????

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.