October, November & December 2007 (From Western Telegraph)

October, November & December 2007

8:00am Saturday 1st August 2009

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We hardly noticed October’s arrival apart from the nights drawing in, it was still warm with no sign of autumn leaves falling. We were still eating outside but we had already had the new pool cover fitted and the pump removed ready for the winter. The new metal and canvas Gazebo arrived and was erected where the old pig sty had once stood, and with the new table there we could eat in style gazing across the valley to Mount Cetona on the other side of the valley. We were concentrating on getting the ‘garden’, almost 3 acres of neglected terraced pasture, into shape, and began looking at seed and plant catalogues for the coming season as well as taking cuttings where ever we could scrounge them from to add to our endeavours. Our wish list would have made Kew Gardens envious but we managed to whittle it down to a few fruit trees and some summer bedding. It was also when we received a call from the window man to say they would be with us the first week of November and to expect them to be with us for just 4 days. When we had windows replaced in the UK they took 2 weeks to fit a set of French doors and 8 windows, we had though 23 windows and 5 doors would have taken a month at least.

Naturally their arrival coincided with the first winter winds picking up from the North and howling around our hillside. They fell upon the house and had removed 4 windows before we’d finished saying ‘good morning’. The replacements were stunning. 6 inches thick as they incorporated retracting insect screens and intenal shutters. The boss explained had perfectly constructed angles and were absolutely vertical but our openings were not, due to the age of the property, so they would have to do a little work to make them fit. They used jackhammers, crowbars and cement! The jackhammers vibrated the structure so much they loosened the radiator nuts and we discovered small puddles all over the place and piles of old cement on the floors. We had not been prepared for the complete chaos that we lived in during those 4 days but they were solid, sturdy and beautifully finished they justified the cost and the mess.

The door men arrived on the second day, they were to also install the security bars downstairs. They removed all 5 doors in one go. A normal door is 90 cm wide. Four of ours are 4½ feet wide and about 10 feet tall. Three were originally the entrance for the cattle, as the ground floor was once the cow shed. We spent the night with all the new doors just leaning in the space they were to go into, the wind howled and screeched in the gaps with lots of strange noises keeping us awake most of the night. We wore coats to bed and tucked the hot water bottles around us to stave off the chill. The next morning there was a problem with the North door. The original door had been made to fit just inside the external archway and then opened inwards. They had not accounted for the un-evenness of the arch and when they tried to install the metal security frame, it wouldn’t fit and the new door would not be able to open inwards as the archway was also lower inside than on the outside. Everything stopped, the silence warned us there was something wrong. We strolled round to watch as the builder and the door installers drew diagrams on paper, the boss of the firm added his opinion and hands waved and signalled as the discussion lengthened. In Italy it is normal to buy the windows form one supplier, the security doors from another and find your own installer to fit them. We had asked the manufacturer to subcontract for us and provide a complete service. The door manufacturers came from Perugia and installed their products but they didn’t do alterations, so a lot of the discussion was how best to make the door fit and at what extra cost. They presented a solution to us. The builder would remake the archway so the door would be fitted on the inside of the house, creating a deep porch on the outside but there would be an extra day’s labour to pay. The boss who’d measured originally said he would cover half as he had not considered the implications of the door opening into an imperfect archway. It really is a joy to do business with people like this. On the fourth day they were done and packing to go. The boss shook our hands and said there would be problems, leaks and things sticking, it was normal as everything would settle and need adjusting - just give him a call and they would return. The cleaning up took months as the air was full of ancient dust and cement and every time we cleaned it rose back into the air. Every meal tasted gritty and the floor crunched underfoot. There were some leaks but they were quickly sorted. The door men had to come back as the North and South doors whistled like demented daemons in high winds but we were secure and draft free for the first time and the house felt so much warmer.

Relaxing in front of the fire writing letters I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a dark mass scurrying across from the wood pile to under my chair. I levitated with a shriek. I thought I had seen a man-eating spider shoot under my chair. I am terrified of them, man eating or not. Bats, toads, snakes, mice, not an issue but spiders…I stood and quaked. I risked leaping to the sofa in case the beast ran up the side of the chair and yelled for help. Michael sauntered in, coffee in hand, asking what the fuss was. By then I was incoherent and could only point to the chair and whimper. He put n the lights and from under the chair ran a small field mouse. It ran to the back door where it had obviously come in but the door now fitted the frame, there was no escape. It tried each door in turn until frantically it hid in our computer room under some pots of paint. We baited a humane trap with peanuts and went to bed. The next morning we were able to release a very well fed mouse who raced for freedom as we tipped it out of the trap down the road.

Late November we received a call from our accountant. The olive contractor said there was little oil to be had because of a plague of flies where we had the grove had spoilt the crop and that he wanted more money for the work he’d done. We investigated and discovered he had been economical with the truth about how much oil he had received from the mill and we settled on a figure almost 600 Euros less than he’d ask for. We declined to re-new his contract for the forthcoming year. We may be green at this but we’re not stupid. We learned later from the Agricultural minister when we went to ask where we could rent something to comply to the agritourismo rules that our old contractor had gone bust and had just trying it on with the “strangers”, in the meantime he would ask around for us.

For a day out we decided to attend the Fabro International truffle annual event, just 10 minutes down the road. The event is held in a hall for exhibitions on a trading estate, so we didn’t expect much and expecting to see plates of wizened mushrooms we didn’t bother to take the camera. There was someone demonstrating basket weaving and selling their wares in the foyer and in the hall there were row upon row of exhibitors selling rustic bread large as wagon wheels or 5’ long, bread with olives, herbs or onions. Cheeses from all around the country, fresh pecorino, that is creamy and soft, to the seasoned type that looks like it should be in a mouse trap and strongly flavoured. Jams and preserves but no marmalades. 30 different types of grappa from clear to a deep gold strong enough to strip paint. Wines from every region and liqueurs, chocolate, fruit and lemoncello. The local lemoncello is so strong they can’t sell it legally so they give it away at the end of a meal. Be warned 2 glasses and you lose all memory of the evening completely, it must be 80% proof at least. Truffles both black and white, raw, in oil, in a butter paste to spread on bread, minced, minced and mixed with porcini mushrooms, in sauces and in cheese and dried pasta for flavour. We sampled everything and ate our way around the hall, promising ourselves we would mark this on the calendar for the next year too.

December and the rain arrived, not weeks of grey and damp – just days of rain, but several times a week there would be clear skies and weather to dry the washing. We still did the rounds in the garden, the mowing had stopped in October, but there were trees to cut down to make fences the following year and the usual daily chores everyone does. We saw an advertisement for the ‘Living Nativity’ in a near by town and as we had let Christmas pass us by the previous year we thought we’d make an effort and go and see what it was about as it was only on for the Christmas week. It was astounding. Montiglione de Orvieto is about the size of Narberth, perched on a rocky promontory looking across a valley. We parked illegally at the behest of the police in charge of the droves of arriving vehicles and walked to the huge stone gateway in the encircling town walls. A Roman soldier on horseback was supervising the crowd as we passed through the arch, paying a 2 Euro entrance fee as we did so, into a small piazza. There was a man turning wood on a lathe that came out of the ark, the off cuts feeding the fire where a small boy gathered the bowls and offered them for sale in the flickering light. Two more soldiers warming themselves by the fire watched us pass down the street that had been roped to form a one way system around the town. The towns’ people were all in ancient dress and acted the parts of trades men and women of ancient times. In the old storerooms under the houses we saw, a weaver, a candle maker, and scribes. In the street there were hot chestnuts sold straight from the braziers, wine, breads, piazza and tissue thin pancakes with fennel seeds. There were people sifting the chaff from the grain, threshing the stalks and hand grinding into flour. Two Roman soldiers were dragging a prisoner protesting his innocence up the street. We approached the church expecting the nativity to be there, but no - as we left, puzzled, we were directed to a large palazzo where underneath the man building in the cellar was the ‘family’. A young couple with a small live baby were sitting in straw, a goat, sheep and a donkey shared the space with them in the candle light. It was charming and an experience we won’t soon forget.

Turkey is just becoming more of a Christmas dish, probably because of all us foreigners living here but traditionally the 14 dish meal is still served with all the family elbow to elbow around the table for 5 hours. A friend went to eat with a family and told us this is what they ate: Antipasti of breads with meats, cheeses with honey, the soup course is usually tortellini in broth. Then the pasta courses - oven cooked lasagne and pici (a hand rolled pasta that looks like thick spaghetti) (boiled) with a wild boar ragu. The main course consists of 8 meat dishes, cold meats, roast pork and chops, chicken casseroled and roasted, fried and charcoal baked lamb and thinly sliced beef fried quickly. Served with a green salad and some tomatoes. were gateaux, paneforte, pandoro, nougats and sweets. With lots of wines and coffee and Amaro, an alcoholic herbal digestive afterwards.

Here in Umbria and the North they eat a lot of meat, in Tuscany they eat more vegetables and the South have 5 courses with fish.

Recipe: Fried Lamb chops Lamb chops tenderised, beaten flat, beaten egg, seasoning, dried herbs, breadcrumbs and oil for frying.

Dip the flattened chops into the beaten egg. Season the breadcrumbs and add the herbs before costing the chops well in the crumbs.

Deep fry until golden on both sides and serve.