Cinque Terre, Part III

I’ve given you an overview of fabulous Cinque Terre. http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2017/04/on-to-cinque-terre-part-i.html

AND told you about the delights of Ligurian cuisine. http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2017/04/lunch-with-daniela-cinque-terre-part-ii.html

NOW, it’s time to spread our map, hop on a ferryboat and checkout the five villages and another one that doesn’t make up the Cinque Terre, but nevertheless is a jewel of a stop.

Getting around.  Lots of choices.  TAXI (expensive from town to town).  TRAIN (convenient and inexpensive BUT make sure you buy the right ticket or you’ll be fined up to $55 per person). WALKING (least expensive, but it’s a long walk!)  BOAT (my fave!  $25 for an all day, hop-on-hop-off trip in a spotlessly clean, first class ferryboat)

Lots of reasons taking the BOAT is my fave.  In addition to the excitement of glimpsing all of Cinque Terre from the water, is the supreme convenience of being able to look around, shop, eat, and climb back on board to do the same at the next village.  Boats run on a frequent schedule, so you seldom have to wait until you’re bored and stamping your feet in frustration.  Lastly, I like the ferryboat because it’s so inexpensive.  Convenient, beautiful. cheap!  The trifecta!

Lets talk briefly about the five, no wait, six towns!  Check out the map.  We’ll start from the largest and most northern town, Monterosso which is where we stayed.  Lots of shopping and lots of restaurants, but let’s not forget it’s also a vibrant, functioning town with small food stands, grocery stores, tiny shops, outdoor cafés, and a market square that really is a market place with fresh produce, cheeses, meats, flowers and so much more.  You’ll have to check with locals to find out the times and dates.

I love the back streets, where small, non-tourist shops offer local goods, such as dried herbs, wines, flavored salts, olives, cheeses, and cooking utensils the locals use.  Don’t you love to have friends over for dinner, or just wine and cheese and as they swoon over your lavishly laden serving bowls and platters, you hear:  Wow, those dishes are charming!  Where did you get them?

Then the snob in you comes bouncing out like a jolly joker:  Got those on our last trip to Cinque Terre.  It’s where I buy all my serving dishes…and you see these olive wood serving spoons?  Franco Bianchi made them for me in his small atelier in Monterosso.  He’s such a caro amico.

But, now it’s time to hop on the boat for a splendid cruise on the briny and a visit to the rest of Cinque Terre.  I’m not going to go into detail about each village, since they are all similar to what I’ve just described.  History, endless shopping, seaside dining on the freshest of local seafood, washed down by local wines.  Best of all are the friendliest people you’ll ever meet, not only the merchants, but the people on the street or sitting next to you in outdoor cafés, many of whom speak English and who are happy to engage in conversations and tell you about their town.

Only one town cannot be reached by ferry boat.  Corniglia is high on a bluff and sad to say, we did not visit.  Best to walk or go by train, or so I’m told.

Cinque Terre is not just for daylight adventures. If you’re up to it and plan ahead, there are also evening dinner cruises, but they fill up fast.  We wanted to take such a tour with Angelo, but when I called, he was solidly booked four days in advance.  We were there in April and I suspect in the high tourist season it’s even worse.

One town I promised to mention that is not included when the guidebooks talk about Cinque Terre, is Porto Venere.  It is also a World Heritage Site.  Yes, the ferryboat does stop here, or if you’re just passing through, you can also get there by car.  Coming in by ferryboat, the first thing you notice is the ancient church of St Peter (1198 AD) on the cliff approaching the harbor.  But the town dates back to the first century B.C.  And in fact, the ancient church was built on the site of an earlier Christian church, which was itself built over a Roman temple dedicated to the goddess Venus.  So many conquers, so many layers of history.  Roman, Byzantine, Genoese, French. Italian.  The harbor has seen more passing of empires and city-states than I can even begin to explain.

Ok, so what did I do besides wonder and wander in Porto Venere?  The next street, which parallels the promenade along the harbor front, is a tiny cobblestone alley, so narrow you can literally jump from a store or restaurant on one side to another shop on the opposite side!  My quest was to find an Italian linen shirt.  Sure I had found them in other shops in the other towns, but at ridiculous expense.  I was willing to pay more than I normally would, but not enough to keep me awake at night, mumbling “Oh, my god, what did I do?” 

In this tiny alley, I found what I was looking for, a boutique for men, and the shop clerk was the perfect, dark haired Italian beauty.  As soon as I walked through the doorway, I knew I was going to buy a shirt.  Men are such simple fools. As it turned out, she was as charming as she was beautiful.  I tried on a shirt.   She put me in front of a large mirror and we both looked it over.  “It looks ok,” she said, but I could tell her heart wasn’t in it.  I dearly wanted her heart to be in it.

Then she searched and found a smaller size.  I stood in front of the mirror again.  Now she smiled. “Molto bene!”  I couldn’t have said it better myself.  I walked away with the perfect shirt at the perfect price, purchased from the perfect shop clerk.  Win-Win-And Dazzled.  That night I mumbled, “Oh, my god, where did my youth go?”

Lunch was on the harbor front.  Calamari.  Salad.  Delicious bread. Fried fish.  Winnnnnnne!  Should we order another bottle?  Was that a serious question? asks one of my lunch companions.

So we tarried at table, in the sunshine of a brilliant day, soaking in the atmosphere of an ancient port, while our Italian waiter brought us platters of sumptuous fare and kept our cups running over.

With great effort, we made our way back to the ferryboat, for a ride back to Monterosso and the promise of an adventurous evening.

Yes, I could live in Cinque Terre.  The question was, can I bear to leave?  Matter of fact, I think I could use another linen shirt…

Lunch With Daniella: Cinque Terre, Part II

Our perfect hostess, Daniella

It’s mid morning. We lounge idly in canvas backed lawn chairs, on the sun-blessed terrace of Daniella’s eclectic home and wait for her to return with a chilled bottle of Prosecco.  Below us, in the near distance sits the placidly picturesque blue Mediterranean and old town Monterosso, with its colorful buildings clustered on the hillside below us.  It’s our fourth day in the World Heritage Site of Cinque Terre (Chink-co-terra).

We’ve wandered the cobblestones, admired the work of artisans, stared up at laundry hanging on the balconies of ancient buildings, slain the fatted calf a dozen times over, and soaked in the culture of the small fishing villages turned tourist Meccas.   This morning we wandered the local market, admiring fresh vegetables and fresh catch, while throngs of locals bartered and filled their shopping bags. Have we had enough?  Seen it all?  Not hardly, no way.

We’ve already met so many people.  Franco the short, graying taxi driver who lost his cab, Elania, the beautiful girl who works an outdoor café on the waterfront, another taxi driver named Franco, several watercolor artists, and Swiss, German, and yes---Italian--- tourists.

We’re wonderfully accommodated in one of Daniella’s hillside villas and now we’ve walked up a hundred stone steps to get to her home for an afternoon’s Italian cooking lesson.  Let’s be more specific and call it a Ligurian cooking lesson, for this is the Italian Riviera, spread along a rugged coastline, with its own tastes and styles of cooking.  Much of it features local olives, lemons, and seafood straight off any of the many small fishing vessels that line the harbor and rest on the sand.  Daniella even has a lemon tree on the terrace.

The promised Prosecco arrives and we are ever grateful.  We sip gently and pop fat green olives in our mouths, between bites of deliciously crunchy bread.  

Wonderful, giant capers!

Yes, I already feel as if I could live here, so long as the money holds out and my liver doesn’t desert me.  If wine is as good for you as they say it is, my arterial plaque is in for the fight of its life.  No, Prosecco is not from around here, but Prosecco has a vast variety of local cousins that have already helped us down quantities of fresh seafood. Now I’m wondering what new wonders of the Ligurian kitchen Daniella can show us?

First off is the kitchen itself.  It’s built into a corner of her terrace and is so quaintly lovely it should have come out of a romantic movie, starring Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant.  In addition to an array of cooking implements hanging serenely above the tiles on the wall, there’s a four-burner gas stove, and a stone sink I plan to steal.  Except for three things:  it’s too heavy, more wine may slow me down, and Daniella’s husband may be too ferocious.  I don’t know for sure, but I can’t take the chance.

The expansive terrace is itself an architectural dream, with tiled floor, green plants, colorful flowers, that fruit bearing lemon tree, and glorious views in every direction.  Daniella turns out not only to be an exceptional cook, but a talented decorator.

The basil must be thoroughly dry.  Daniella shows us how.

See, I meant to simply tell you about a cooking lesson, but got carried away.  Cinque Terre is like that.  A bombardment of sun, style, friendly people, and an entirely different way of life.

So, back to cooking.  But, first I must mention the second wine Daniella served, a local white, and it is delightfully fruity and dry.  But, it’s not the best, says Daniella modestly.  Wait until you taste our best local wine.  If the wine we’re sipping is not the best, my knees may weaken and I may try out my Italian tenor’s voice.

So, as I said, back to cooking.  We’re going to make pesto, casserole chicken, lasagna, and baked fresh fish.  Those are the common American names.  I’ll give you the more charming and descriptive Italian names later.  You can be sure, all the dishes will include fresh – from the garden and the sea – ingredients.

First we hand make the basil pesto in an old stone mortar.  And with the first stone-on-stone scraping of the pestle against the mortar, Daniella begins to delight us with tales of food and family, heritage, and the wonders of an Italian-American wife living with a locally born Italian husband, in the most Italian place in the world.  Along the way, this requires her listeners to acquire a taste for several more bottles of local wine.  Her fascinating story, enthralls us with all the elements of history, romance, and family struggles that make up a great novel.

Ingredients for Lasagna 

The creamiest, more delicious Parmesan!  An essential in all the dishes we prepared.

But, once again I digress.  With the pesto, the remainder of which is made in a food processor, we have the first ingredient in what will become the most delicious lasagna I’ve ever tasted.  The other ingredients include flat pasta, of course, plus a silky béchamel sauce, and a generous handful of pine nuts. 

Lunch is a hands-on culinary experience!

Making the béchamel

The oven is inside and in it goes, while we start work on a wonderful chicken casserole, called Pollo Piero.

Other ingredients for Pollo Piero

The main ingredient for Pollo Piero is skinless, bone-in, chicken thighs, followed by a deluge of bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, and seasonings.  

Note:  Italian cooks do not normally use onions and garlic in the same dish, although for the accompanying asparagus dish a full head of unpeeled garlic will have the bottom sliced off and accompany the vegetable platter as it’s slipped in the oven.

Sea bass, right off the boat, is baked Liturigan style, meaning rosemary, salt and lemon in the fish cavity, with more of the same and olive oil over the top.  Yes, it’s a whole fish, with the sides slashed to permit the oil and lemon to penetrate the flesh.

For dessert, we have freshly made lemon cake, with cream and berries, along with short glasses of Daniella’s homemade Limonchello.  To make Limonchello, there are only four ingredients: lemons, vodka, water, and sugar.  Lots of recipes online.

Daniella’s lunch only lasts about 4-5 hours.  I stop counting after the second bottle of wine.  Delicious doesn’t really explain it.  A lunch on her terrace is an all-encompassing experience of incomparable tastes, scintillating conversations, carefree humorous banter, all delivered under blue skies, and in the glow of scenery that will forever live in memory.  A complete adventure in Italian living. Now if I can only figure out how to separate Daniella from her stone sink…

Perfection!