Iceland, though it lies so far to the north that it is partly within the Arctic Circle, is, like Norway, Scotland, and Ireland, affected by the Gulf Stream, so that considerable portions of it are quite habitable. — British explorer Harry Johnston

A rainbow on the lava fields

The young woman behind the reservation desk at our hotel was born in Nebraska. After graduating from college, she spent a year in Iceland, then went to Denmark for another year and returned to Iceland, where she has lived for the past 18 months with her Icelandic husband. She’s learning the language, little by little, and I’m impressed, because it looks impossible.

There's nothing like the Blue Lagoon in the morning!

Why Iceland, I asked? Because, she said, she admired the incredible spirit of independence in the people and she loved their tradition of storytelling. Icelanders are famous for their sagas, epic tales in both prose and poetry that recount stories of early Viking voyages and battles and the ensuing feuds between Icelandic families. One of the most famous sagas is over 100,000 words long. (For those who care about these things, that’s about the length of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.)

I went to Iceland with Tim and his mother because it was on her 80^th birthday “bucket list” and she didn’t want to go alone. We were joined by my sister-in-law and two of Mom’s good friends from Brandermill Woods. We went on a “Northern Lights and Lava Fields” tour, run by MWT Associates out of San Jose, CA and even though the lights didn’t cooperate the week we were there, it was still a fantastic trip and one that I heartily recommend.

For one thing, you can book a flight that takes you into Iceland’s Keflavik Airport, spend up to seven nights in the

Small Icelandic horses under a big, moody Icelandic sky

capital city of Reykjavik and then go on to one of several European destinations with no penalty charges. Check out the stopover booking engine on Icelandair’s website for more details. But beyond that, Iceland is a revelation.

I’ll have lots more to tell when I get back. I’m off to Boston this week for the funeral of a dear friend. It will be tough; hold me in your thoughts, please.

Meanwhile, here are a few photos to whet your appetite for the full story. These are remarkable people living in a remarkable environment. Plan to go.

Buon viaggio!

You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition.  What you’ll discover will be wonderful.  What you’ll discover is yourself.  — Alan Alda

So you go to fine restaurants and subscribe to all the “really-this-takes-12-hours-to-make-but-it’s-so-worth-it” fancy gourmet magazines. You’ve even tried the latest wack-o craze from Britain, food foams. Fine. But for a completely different (and eminently saner and more satisfying) kind of foodie experience, I invite you to give the agriturismo La Tavola Marche (MAR-kay) a go. Lovingly run by a young, hard-working American couple, Ashley and Jason Bartner, La Tavola Marche (inn, restaurant and cooking school) is a jewel in the crown of the rugged Italian countryside. And here they have discovered themselves — and so much more.

First, what’s an Agriturismo?

La Tavola Marche — front door

The agriturismo movement began out of necessity as small farmers started to abandon their farms for the cities in the 1950s. To keep the traditions alive, the government codified the agriturismo movement in 1985 and many abandoned buildings were restored, allowing farmers to augment their income from the farm, and for travelers to experience the bounty of rural life in Italy.

Basically, an agriturismo is a working farm that rents rooms and serves food that it produces. To qualify for the tax advantages provided by an agriturismo status, a farm must recycle most of what it raises or grows back into the house. Eighty percent of the food that Jason serves at La Tavola Marche is from his own land or the land of his neighbors.

Jason, a French Culinary Institute-trained chef and Ashley, a former actress and hospitality maven in New York City, found the old farmhouse, Ca’Camone, in 2007 and immediately  knew they wanted to create La Tavola Marche there. They fashioned comfortable living spaces, developed their cooking school and kitchen and have been virtually adopted by the locals over the last four years. The two studied Italian before they left the U.S. and live as close to an authentic Italian lifestyle as possible in this off-the-beaten-track location, bartering with the neighboring farmers for game and recipes and helping each other with projects. In turn, Jason’s cooking has gained quite a reputation among the Marchese, who are often present at Thursday night pizza parties in the summer and at the restaurant itself throughout the year. There is no higher praise.

Ashley says, “When you think you’ve gone too far, you’re almost here!”

They have most definitely left the “city of their comfort” by coming to Le Marche, a stunningly beautiful part of

Try this at home: Zucchini Carpaccio!

Italy that most Americans never see because most tours concentrate on the holy trinity of Rome, Florence and Venice. I urge you to be bold.

Because while the house is some five kilometers off the road, La Tavola Marche is not only a calming respite in the midst of our “elaborate” lives (thank you, Elton John), it is also extremely well-positioned for a versatile holiday, being close enough to visit Umbrian hill towns like Spoleto and Gubbio and very nearby to Urbania and Urbino, a well-known UNESCO World Heritage Site. Urbino’s Casa Rafaella and the Palazzo Ducale are must-sees, and the city is truly one of the most important in all of Italy for anyone in search of great Italian art and architecture. So while it may seem a bit remote, the pool in season is a big draw for the kids and the day trips that are available have something for everybody.

The food’s the thing

The dearly departed Foghorn Leghorn

But when you come to La Tavola Marche, you come to eat — and to learn. Jason is an excellent teacher and I can honestly say that I have never learned more about cooking than I did here. And I’m proud to say that I’ve made several of his dishes back home. In fact, my birthday present from Tim this summer was a de Buyer mandoline, so I can cut those veggies either wafer-thin or in uniform chunks, like many recipes require.

Anyway, when we arrived at the kitchen for our class, the evening’s menu was posted: Antipasti, Primo, Secondo and Dolce. We were going to do it all! Jason has a simple philosophy about the local cucina povere: let the food speak for itself. Don’t drown it in sauce, don’t cook it to death. Let the tomato be a tomato — a little salt, pepper and olive oil, and you’re done. Simple, flavorful. We cooked seven different items and they were all fantastic.

We had just come from a week in Abruzzo and, as in the fabulous neighboring region to the south, the food in

Sharon & Jerry, hard at work on dinner

Marche is hearty, local and very fresh. Because we had asked for a lot of vegetables after the meat-rich Abruzzo experience, Jason happily complied, with lentils, grilled yellow peppers, stuffed eggplant, homemade tagliatelle with porcini and fresh peas, a tomato bread and basil soup, zucchini carpaccio . . . it was a true delight. And his homemade salamis, coupled with the local cheeses, were outstanding. Ashley, the consummate hostess, finished it all off nicely with her homemade digestivo, after-dinner drinks made from a variety of nuts and fruits, like walnut and prune, that were the perfect ending to a perfect meal.

The farmhouse’s five self-catering suites can hold up to 22 people. They’ve hosted weddings, family reunions, language classes and girl’s getaways and will tailor cooking school and local winery tours, truffle and mushroom hunting excursions and olive oil and other farm visits to suit your needs. They’ve even got a chef friend with a boat  in the port town of Fanno who will take you out for lunch or dinner and cook freshly caught fish while you swim in the crisp blue waters of the Adriatic.

Discover yourself — and save the date!

Ashley, Linda & Jason — are we having too much fun?

But the biggest attraction for me and Tim (and our friends Sharon and Jerry, who are getting just a tad snarky now that I don’t mention them every time we go someplace together) was the fact that, to our ancient eyes, it seems like Ashley and Jason have found the secret to happiness. They were old enough (or wise enough) to know that they wanted something beyond the 9-to-5 grind and were young enough (or brave enough) to let go of the proverbial rock and just take a chance. When I asked her how she did it, Ashley simply said, “I thought, why not? We can always go back if it fails.”  The older you get, the more difficult it is to make big decisions like this. I know this from first-hand experience.

So they gladly quit their jobs, packed their things, sent over what they needed and got down to starting a new life. They haven’t been back to the U.S. in four years. They’re making a name for themselves (see who’s making big noises about the place!) and they’re living life to the fullest.

Now, it’s not all collecting checks and good reviews. They rise very early, tend to flocks and crops, keep the menu fresh and updated, deal with snow and frozen pipes, clean and shop and take reservations and deal with customers and cooking schools, meet the press and clean the pool and chop the wood and drive on unpaved roads and have a heck of a time getting internet service and basically do everything they have to do to live and succeed in a foreign language. Not easy. And we get to see it all through their eyes and benefit from their advance work. Be grateful for them and visit them if you have a chance.

I’m hoping to take a group to visit Jason and Ashley next fall — September or October. It will be great. Costs and itinerary will be coming in the next month or so. But save the date, so to speak. You won’t want to miss it, and space is limited.

Trust me, this is the way to see Italy. After you’ve seen the big cities, discover something that you might not find so easily in the guidebooks. It’s hugely rewarding — and very delicious.

Buon viaggio!

Only after a disaster can we be resurrected. — Chuck Palahniuk

There are some places that you have to see, no matter how  painful or emotional they might be.

As a native New Yorker who was living near Boston when  the terrorists attacked on 9/11, I knew I had to get down  there as soon as it was practical. I had to see it for myself. I  had to stand at Ground Zero and take it all in. It was  sacred space and I needed to be there.

Tim and I went to New York for the six-month  anniversary, although we hadn’t realized at the time that  we had chosen that exact date to visit. We were even  interviewed that day by a TV news team, ironically, from Boston. Walking around lower Manhattan, we witnessed some of the ceremonies that were being conducted for the anniversary, but more than that, we saw what the people had done. The missing posters, still hanging on fences and in storefronts, the ribbons, the phone numbers offering assistance, the closed gates of Trinity Church, sadness and disbelief and emptiness everywhere. Would it ever be the same?

Well, New Yorkers being who they (we) are, the city has certainly been resurrected. Better than ever, maybe for a time, maybe forever. And while the politicians can haggle all they want about this monument or that project — despite the fact that there is still today, ten years after the event, no building yet erected — the city has gone on. So I wanted to see what was happening in L’Aquila (“the eagle”) after its own disaster. Had it gone on?

Bridge Out

On April 6, 2009, the city of L’Aquila, the capital of the Italian region of Abruzzo in central Italy, was devastated by an earthquake measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale. With the city at its epicenter, the earthquake riddled much of the surrounding area, ultimately claiming 308 lives, injuring more than 1,500 people and rendering more than 65,000 people homeless. The statistics are staggering, the damage even more so. The main earthquake (there were several significant aftershocks) was felt in Rome, nearly 60 miles away.

Now, earthquakes are nothing new to L’Aquila. The one in 1703, which targeted most of central Italy, took more than 5,000 lives. But this quake of 2009 was the deadliest in all of Italy since the 1980 Irpinia earthquake, which killed nearly 3,000 people in the south, near Avellino. Let me tell you a little about the medieval city of L’Aquila.

Street scene

It sits majestically among the Apeninnes and the snow-capped mountains of the Gran Sasso range. The city comprises a virtual maze of narrow streets, lined with Baroque and Renaissance buildings and churches opening onto elegant piazzas. Home to the University of L’Aquila, it is a dynamic college town and has many cultural institutions, among them a theater, a symphony orchestra, a fine arts academy, a state conservatory and a film institute. There are even several ski resorts near the city. A good place to be. At least it used to be.

We drove to L’Aquila from Sulmona, a little farther south in Abruzzo, and were headed ultimately up to Civitella del Tronto, on the northern border of the region. We had to take a bit of a detour to visit L’Aquila, but the rest of our group agreed that it was something we shouldn’t miss. The closer we got to the city, the stranger things became. Whole city blocks of buildings were supported by two by fours . . . over the windows, buttressing the balconies, forbidding entry entirely. Some had metal scaffolding all around them. And the people were gone. It was nearly lunchtime, and there were virtually no people on the streets. Something was very wrong.

1,000 keys to reopen the city . . .

We drove to the end of what looked on the map to be a fairly central artery in the city and were eventually stopped by a wall of orange plastic. We could go no farther; the bridge to the city was out. Rocks and debris were everywhere. It looked like this had happened last week. A few of us got out to walk onto the bridge entrance and agreed that it was something out of one of those cheesy “end of the world” movies that have always been so popular. I wonder why we have to imagine these stories when the real thing is there for the taking?

Back in the cars, look at the map, find another way in. We discovered a way by the  Fontana Luminosa (“Luminous Fountain”), a sculpture of two women bearing large jars, built in the 1930s. Nearby several food trucks were selling lunch to the workers, and across the way stood the impressive Spanish fort (Forte Spagnolo) built in 1534 by the Viceroy Don Pedro de Toledo.

Forte Spagnolo

We parked the cars and walked in, not sure what we might find. It took our breath away. The original plan was to have lunch in L’Aquila, but we soon discovered how difficult that might be. We walked through street after street of closed buildings, once so beautiful, now barred by intricate webs of heavy iron rods. Overhead, makeshift barriers prevented further spillage from falling onto the streets and, one assumes, onto pedestrians. Not that there were many of us there. The most prominent presence was the military police — standing nearby their Hummers, decked out in their camouflage, armed to the teeth to discourage looting and maintain order on the streets. To be honest, it felt like a war zone.

Fontana Luminosa

There were two hopeful signs indicating restaurants that were still open. We followed them down a side street only to find one closed and another that looked quite lovely, but only seemed to serve fish, which most of us didn’t want. So we went on, hoping for the best. We soon came to a broad spot in the road, near one of the former government buildings. A banner signaled that this had possibly been the site of a memorial service for the victims of the “terremoto” (earthquake) and, across the street, was a chilling memorial just like one I had seen in lower Manhattan those years ago: a wall of house keys, belonging to either homes or residents which no longer existed. A large paper key had a note on it that read: “1000 keys to reopen the city.” The keys are still there, and the city is mostly closed, most of the former residents having moved out of their government-issued blue tents and into the countryside (or even farther away) by now.

Today, L’Aquila is a city of a great historical past and an uncertain future. The people on its streets are largely workers, soldiers and a few die-hard shopkeepers who come to work each day to try to keep body and soul together. We found lunch in a slick, modern cafeteria-style place called Nero Caffe that was so totally out of place in this environment that we had to pinch ourselves to see if we were really there. But the food was good and the cost was reasonable and we felt that in some way maybe we had made a contribution to the city that day.

For your protection

As soon as the tragedy happened, the National Italian American Foundation created a place to donate; to date, they have collected many hundreds of thousands of dollars to the Abruzzo Relief Fund. On their website it says, “Individuals, corporations and foundations who wish to donate to the NIAF/Abruzzo Relief Fund can do so by visiting www.niaf.org/relief. Additionally, donations can be made by check payable to the NIAF/Abruzzo Relief Fund, The National Italian American Foundation, 1860 19th Street NW, Washington, DC 20009.” I’ve given, and I hope some of you will, too. The churches and cathedrals need to be rebuilt; the forte needs help (it houses the Museum of Abruzzo and its third floor completely collapsed); even some of the “earthquake-proof” modern structures — hospitals and university buildings — had to be closed. The people need to come home.

I’ll leave you with an entry from a Wikipedia post that sums up the energy that the government put towards L’Aquila in the weeks and months after the earthquake. Not much has been done since:

“Because of the 2009 earthquake, the Berlusconi government decided to move that year’s G8 summit from its scheduled Sardinian host of La Maddalena to L’Aquila, so that disaster funds would be distributed to the affected region and to show solidarity with the city’s inhabitants. World leaders converged on L’Aquila on July 8 and many of them were given tours of the devastated city by the host Prime Minister. A Washington Post newspaper article on April 11, 2010 reported that in February 2010, residents of L’Aquila, frustrated that cleanup efforts of the destroyed downtown had not begun after ten months of waiting, had organized daily volunteer crews to haul away rubble themselves. Many of these displaced residents have been re-housed in new housing on the fringe of town, and missed the vibrant life, shops and cafes downtown that were damaged and shuttered (reportedly some 2,000 businesses have closed).”

Can it be resurrected?

Like the author Nan McElroy writes in her wonderful little guidebook: “Remember that Italy is a country, not a theme park.” Sometimes the authentic Italy is not so pretty. It can move you to tears and reach out for help. Will you?

Buon viaggio!

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene . . . Prologue, Romeo and Juliet

Verona's Duomo

It was our last day in Verona. Sadness all around. What to do?

We were meeting our friends from Milano for lunch and Tim and I agreed to go over to the train station, Porta Nuova, to meet them around noon. But first we decided (he decided) to take me on a seemingly 100-mile walk around town that would include all the historic churches of Verona, the Teatro Romano and surrounding structures, a jaunt across the Ponte della Pietra and back again, over to the station and finally, a return to Piazza delle Erbe and lunch. By the end of it my feet were killing me, but it was fantastic and I only squealed once, en route to the Chiesa di San Zeno Maggiore, which, honestly, I insisted on seeing.

We first stopped at the 12^th Century Romanesque Duomo Santa Maria Marticolare, and after a while, headed off across the Ponte della Pietra, the old stone bridge that spans the Adige River. This led to the other side of the city and over to the Teatro Romano.

Then the usual happened. Tim met a fellow (a young Spaniard, this time) who was also a

Teatro Romano, Verona

talker and they wiled away an hour or two at the Teatro Romano while I snapped pictures and basked in the warm Italian sun. Soon it was getting close to noon and we had still to see San Zeno before hoofing it over to the station. They were both generally in the same direction, but we soon learned how far away an inch on a tourist map can really be!

Inside San Zeno

San Zeno was magnificent. Named to honor Verona’s Patron saint — and housing the body of San Zeno, who died in the 4^th Century — it is, like so many other long-standing churches, an amalgam of many styles and periods. It’s got a rose window, a cloister, a bell tower, a presbytery — the place is huge. We will have to go back, because we were running out of time and we couldn’t be too late to Porta Nuova to meet our friends. We actually sprinted in, like marathoners, about 5 minutes before the train from Milano arrived. I, of course, thought we’d take a taxi back to Piazza delle Erbe, but it turns out we were only a short distance away because we really had walked entirely around the city!

After a tasty lunch and lively conversation in the garden of Ristorante S. Eufemia just off the main shopping district between Piazza della Erbe and Piazza Brá, we found some good gelato and all stood around to take in the Saturday afternoon people watching. Before long, our friends headed back to the train and Milano and we headed off to get ready for the opera. The opera? How did this come about?! Well, rewind to yesterday’s lunch at another friend’s palazzo.

One of the really marvelous things about travel is that you can make friends for life. In 2003, eight of us rented a villa in a little Lombardian village called Sermide that is owned by the Castellani family of Sermide and Verona. We have since been back to Villa Castellani and also to Palazzo Castellani, the family’s home in Verona, and are honored to consider them  friends of ours. In this day and age, so far removed from the patronage system that allowed the arts to flourish during the Renaissance, Ing. Luciano Castellani is about as close to my personal patron as one can get, and I am most grateful.

Knowing that we were going to end our 2011 Italy tour in Verona, Luciano and his family kindly invited Tim and me and our traveling companions to

Ponte delle Pietra over the Adige

Palazzo Castellani for lunch before we left for home. We arrived at 1:00 for a lovely garden reception, which included many of his family members and several friends whom we had met two years before, when he organized a reading for me at the palazzo (and also at the villa) to introduce my book to Italy. It was fantastic to sip prosecco and sample excellent cheeses and little sandwiches in such an exquisite setting. Soon we were ushered into the grand ballroom for a simple but elegant lunch of asparagus risotto, several local wines and two configurations of gelato. It was something out of a dream.

As we were saying our good-byes, Luciano introduced me to his son-in-law, who asked if I and my guests (6 of us in total) would be interested in attending a performance of the opera the following evening. Now, normally, the night before a departure is filled with packing and sadness and anxiety, but how could we refuse? What an elegant replacement for all those crazy emotions! We said yes, absolutely!

The glorious hall at Palazzo Camozzini

Shortly before 9:00 p.m., we found ourselves at the entrance to Palazzo Camozzini, which bills itself as “A historic palace for private events in Verona.” That doesn’t begin to describe it. The main hall, where the performance would take place, was covered in monochrome Neoclassic frescoes and sported a chandelier the likes of which I have not seen since The Phantom of the Opera. The room was set up for maybe 20 or 30 people, tops. There was a grand piano off to the side and a few tables of fresh flowers. Nothing more. I felt like a very special 18^th Century dinner guest who was retiring to the drawing room after dessert for a private performance. And that, my friends, is exactly what it was. (That said, I apologize in advance for the quality of the photos in the villa — since the setting was so intimate, I did not want to haul out my large camera, so they were taken surreptitiously with my iPhone.)

Villa in Canto is the brainchild of Maestro Riccardo Serenelli, a wildly experienced and absolutely charming orchestra director and vocal coach who has performed throughout Italy. The program offers five performances each week, from April through August, of highlights from some of the best lyric operas. This season showcases Donizetti’s The Elixir of Love, Puccini’s La Boheme, Madame Butterfly and Tosca, Verdi’s La Traviata, and Rossini’s The Barber of Seville. We were privileged to hear excerpts from and explanations (in English, thanks to M˚ Serenelli) of  The Elixir of Love. The voices were spectacular — Giorgia Paci as Adina, Carlo Giachetta as Nemorino (it doesn’t hurt that he looks like Antonio Banderas), Ferruccio Finetti as Neomorino and Michele Filanti as the always over-the-top Dulcamara, the seller of bogus elixirs. Supplemental characters were coaxed up from the audience, and we felt very much part of the scenes; the performers pulled us in on all the jokes and, when the main arias came, they were weep-worthy. What voices! Check out this short video of Elixir performances – the soprano and bass are different from the ones we saw, but you definitely get a sense of the ambience and virtuoso experience.

The chandelier -- think 12 feet tall!

At intermission, prosecco was served (I love Italy!) and the Maestro talked with all of the guests. And at the end of the performance, the actors formed a receiving line of sorts, and greeted everyone who had come. It was a spectacular evening. Just being in the room would have been enough. Just hearing the piano would have been enough! Just hearing the voices would have been enough. As my Jewish friends would say, Dayenu! But we had it all. What a way to leave Italy. A night at the opera.

As we walked home under the stars, we were transfixed. Tim — who, after a very mediocre performance of Butterfly a

Curtain call

few months prior, allowed as how he didn’t care if he ever saw another opera again — was eager to give it another try. He hummed one of the principal arias all the way home. We turned from the quiet via San Salvatore Vecchio and onto Piazza delle Erbe with the passeggiatta in full swing at 11:00 p.m., and were plunged into yet another aspect of the magic of Italy. Parting is, indeed, such sweet sorrow.

Buon viaggio!

Sulmo mihi patria est. — Ovid

We began our 2011 Italian adventure by creeping out of Rome’s Fiumicino airport and into a major traffic jam — the usual — but only after having our perfunctory rental car adventure. I guess Italian tourists travel with bags the size of fanny packs, because our mid-sized car that we made clear was to hold four passengers for two weeks virtually collapsed after the first bag was launched into the trunk. After a fair amount of wrangling, we were upgraded to a larger car that still barely held the bags, but hold them it did, and we were off, into the aforementioned traffic jam. About 90 minutes and 10 km later, we discovered that there had been a very minor fender bender, which was handled in a typically Italian way: gobs of officials standing around, a cute little portable sign blocking one lane out of the airport, an ambulance (unused, as far as we could tell) and hundreds of infuriated Italians and frustrated tourists rubbernecking around the scene in their cars. Let the good times begin!

We took the autostrada east into the region of Abruzzo,  about a two-hour drive, and  headed for the historic city of  Sulmona, which was to be our home for four nights.  Sulmona is a dynamic town of some 25,000 residents  located in the center of Abruzzo  among the highest peaks of  the Appenines. The views from Piazza Garibaldi, the main  square and home of July’s famed Palio, are breathtaking.  Mists and snow were  frequent on the mountaintops, and  when the sun came out, it was spectacular. Close  to several  ski areas — Roccaraso being the one everybody raves about  — and not too far from the beaches of Pescara along the  Adriatic, Sulmona offers visitors a great jumping off point for drives and recreation of all kinds. Problem, is there aren’t too many visitors. At least not Americans. German and Dutch visitors have found the place, for sure, but we need to bring up the averages, people — this place is great!

Sulmona was home to the poet Ovid, whose presence is felt everywhere in the city, from his statue in Piazza XX Settembre to his famed saying, “Sulmo mihi patria est” (Sulmona is my fatherland) written out or abbreviated SMPE all over town. Sulmona was also a very important artisan and commercial town back in the day and it’s hard to walk a block without seeing a statue or monument of some grace and import. But the tough economy has hit here, too. We were told about a 60% unemployment rate among the city’s youth, for starters. And on our walk around town, we were shown a significant patch of land, maybe 40 feet by 15 feet, under which lay some apparently well-preserved Roman or Byzantine mosaics. The city has carefully covered them up and grassed them over for safekeeping and will restore and reveal them when it has the money to do so properly.

Our B&B was just off P. Garibaldi, right at the end of a 13^th century aqueduct. In fact, one of the arches of the aqueduct actually ran through our bedroom! Sei Stelle offers comfortable accommodations right in the heart of the city. It was a fine jumping off point for our walking tour of the city and frequent trips to shops, restaurants and the local mercato. Run by the Frattaroli family (originally from Sulmona and who now split their time between Sulmona and Boston, where they run the Filippo Ristorante in Boston’s North End), Sei Stelle is an affordable option offering a fine continental breakfast every morning and the option for you to negotiate with the caretaker, cousin Franca, to cook for you (and it’s fantastic). But do be aware that little or no English is spoken here and that with my little or no Italian, we did run into a few glitches. Nothing that couldn’t be solved, but it could have gotten sticky.

So now that we’re here in the middle of the Appenines, in this lovely old city, what do  we do? Well, first we get a tour. Francesco met us at 9:30 after a first good night’s  sleep, and toured us around until lunchtime. We started at the Cathedral of San  Panfilo (Sulmona’s patron saint) which is ancient, and which was heavily damaged  in an earthquake in 1706. Centuries of rebuilding have lead to an interesting mix of  styles, largely Romanesque but with plenty of frescos and wooden, marble and stone  artifacts to keep you guessing. The newest part even has a fresco of Pope Benedict XVI  in bright colors over the doorway! Of particular interest was the display of artifacts and information about the short-lived Pope Clemente II, who served for only one year and who was, perhaps, a bit too reform-minded for the church at that time. Very near our B&B was the Fountain of the Old Man (La Fontana del Vecchio) and of course, the Acquedotto Medievale (Medieval Aqueduct), built in 1256 under the Swabian ruler Manfredi.

But perhaps more than anything, Sulmona is known as the home of confetti. What’s confetti? Ever been to anItalian wedding? Ever gotten a favor of coated white almonds in a little net bag? That’s the American tradition. In Italy, you can get almonds in different colors for all kinds of events, presented in everything from satin bags to Ginori china. White is for weddings and communions; green is for engagement; silver is for 25^th anniversaries; red is for graduation and birthdays . . . and so on. At the Pelino headquarters — one of the oldest confetti manufacturers — we saw the Pelino family members carefully taking orders, arranging boxes of colorful creations or managing the small shop. There is also a museum over the factory that displays all manner of machinery, documents and copperware that have to do with the celebrated tradition. And there are confetti stores all around town selling everything from bagged almonds to stunning almond flowers to unusual almond rosaries.

We had 12 people on this leg of our journey, one of them whose family hailed from Abruzzo. Vicky’s Mom was from a town called Castel di Sangro, not far from Sulmona; her father was from Pescara on the coast. At a pre-trip dinner, Mario Scalzi (president of Parker Villas) told Vicky that she could count on the Abruzzese to pick her out. He was right: the first day in Sulmona, a woman came up and asked Vicky where her family was from! One rainy day, a group went to help Vicky find her ancestral home. No one in the family had been able to get there successfully, since infrastructure was slow coming to many parts of Abruzzo. In fact, the highways didn’t go into some places until the 1970s. Anyway, this time, Castel di Sangro was reached and, as Vicky was talking on the phone to her mother in Cleveland to tell her the news, the church bells rang. Magic.

The Abruzzese people were very friendly to us. Lots of smiles and nods,  and some were curious enough to ask us where we were from. All in all,  it was a delightful place to be. And one day, when we decided to visit the  Celestine Abbey in Badia (Santo Spirito al Marrone) to learn about the  hermitage tradition, we met a woman who not only gave us a guided tour  of the place, but also met up with us later that evening in Sulmona.  Novelia is an Abruzzese charmer who lived for several years in Canada  and then came back to Sulmona. She and her sister Vittoria are a high-  spirited couple of Italians who love where they live and want to show  others why they should love it, too. Next time, we’ll consider staying at  her place in town, La Casa del Cuore. Drinks at the Hotel Santa Croce  Ovidius were a hoot.

We passed our four days here in a flurry of wine tours (Valle Reale,  whose Montepulciano d’Abruzzo and Trebbiano wines were first-rate),  good food and visits to a few neighboring towns like Scanno and L’Acquila. For lunch one day, we drove up to an agriturismo at what seemed like the top of the world to a real find called BioAgriturismo Valle Scannese. We were fed and feted well and they told us tales of snow falling on the piazza in town just the day before. On the way there, we saw shepherds with their flocks of sheep and big white working dogs. We even saw a small cluster of wild boar (cinghiale). This is rugged country, folks, and the real thing.

Tim fell in love with the mountains and the herbal amaro, a local digestivo, and I fell in love with the local rossa (rosé) wine called Cerasuolo. On market day, Tim and I bought a delicious round Romano cheese from a white-haired lady sitting all alone at a small glass display case that she probably hauls around from town to town. We felt a little sorry for her and bought from her instead of from the larger trailer stalls. Then, on the way home, we re-watched The American and saw that George Clooney did the same thing . . . some of the final scenes were shot right there on the piazza. If you’ve seen the movie, you might remember the Easter procession scene — Sulmona is famous for its five-day over-the-top Holy Week celebrations. I can’t wait to come back some day to see it!

Sulmona is a beautiful city with a long history, great traditions and terrific food and wines. I miss it already — especially the church bells ringing all night long, every 15 minutes, reminding me how much sleep I’m missing. But really, I do — there was something comforting about it. There was so much more that we could have done — go to the coast, for instance — but there wasn’t enough time. Just when we were getting used to the pace we had to pack up and go on to the next destination. And that is a story for another day. But put Abruzzo on your list, by all means. It’s a different kind of Italy and you’ve got to see it.

Buon viaggio!

One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating. — Luciano Pavarotti and William Wright, Pavarotti, My Own Story

They call it a soft opening. I call it the inside track. At least that’s what I’ve got until you read this. Then you’re going to want in on it, too.

It’s the Belmont Food Shop, Carytown’s new-ish establishment dedicated to the art and joy of good eating. They call it a “back to basics approach to food.” And the results are pretty spectacular, even while they’re on their shake-down cruise.

”They” are Steve Ruscitti and Mike Yavorsky, two CIA graduates (that’s Culinary Institute of America, not that scary place in McLean) who have partnered up to co-found a most welcoming little place that speaks to what can happen when people love food, have big hearts and exude creativity.

The daily menu board

Located at 25 N. Belmont Avenue, the Belmont Food Shop — once an A&P Grocery Store —  shouts local color. It has a storefront presence, with good windows and a spectacular wood and marble bar that’s been lovingly moved and reassembled from Steve’s native Chicago. Art on the walls sets the artistic bent to almost everything you see — chalkboard, apple press, decanters — and extends right into the kitchen. Peek inside the kitchen door and you’ll see the original walk-in refrigerator, an ancient but workable Viking oven, a sink and various makeshift surfaces and cubbies that serve as prep and storage space. And what do they make in this quaint space?

Well, ask anybody who’s been there and the first thing they’ll probably say is “truffles.” Walk by the shop and, if it’s open, you just might get a sample of what is simply the richest, most wonderful melt-in-your-mouth chocolate concoction ever.

French toast to die for!

The other thing the Belmont Food Store is known for around town is lunch. Now, you can get a sandwich most any place.  And a soda. And a side dish. And you might pay less than the $12 (tax included) that these guys charge. But I guarantee you it won’t be half as good. Check out the sandwich menu:

• Roast beef, caramelized onions, focaccia
• Minced pork, mustard vinaigrette, potato bread
• Baked turkey, provolone, pickled red onion, arugula, herbed roll
• Crabcake, sally lunn roll
• Smoked mozarella, roasted vegetable terrine, arugula, black pepper potato bread

Check out the side dishes:

• Potato salad (excellent!)
• Deviled eggs (the best ever!)
• Green salad (they make it interesting!)
• Fresh fruit (ditto!)

Sodas? A variety of Route 66 healthy drinks or — if you’re very lucky — some of their home-made ginger beer, which is so crisp and refreshing it will become your staple all summer long.

They also do catering. I asked for a catering menu and Steve said, “Tell us what you want.”

Things are happening in the back yard. . .

Here’s their catering philosophy. (I love that about Steve and Mike — they actually have a philosophy . . . of sourcing, of eating, of cooking, of serving, of creating an environment.)

• We bring our experience, hospitality, and flexibility to your events
• From elegant dinners (in our space or yours) to corporate gatherings or intimate backyard parties, we work with you to create an unforgettable event of any size or theme
• Our catering menus are designed personally with you and we thoughtfully consider every detail of the dining experience
• Drawing from more than 20 years of professional culinary experience, we will work to execute your vision and showcase flavorful foods and beverages
• Belmont Food Shop can be transformed for most occasions, from cocktail receptions to sit-down dinners served with buttoned-up formality or laid-back family style. Art launches or business meetings will feel right at home.

Don’t you love it already? And just wait until September. They’re working with the city to prepare for the opening of their full-service restaurant that, if lunch is any indication, is sure to be spectacular.

High stylin' in the kitchen!

Tim and I brought a gaggle of friends over for a pre-theatre brunch a few Sundays ago. We asked if they could whip something up so we could show our friends the shop and give them a taste of what’s to come. We put a mighty tight budgetary restriction on it and told them we’d have to be in an out in about 90 minutes. When we arrived, even we were gobsmacked by what they had done. Tables had been set up in front of the bar. No fewer than 5 main courses were being put out, family style, and the ubiquitous truffles were already on the table for a sweet finish. A huge bottle of home-made ginger beer was being poured. Coffee was available. People got to the front door and stopped in their tracks. They never expected anything like this, not in their wildest dreams, and certainly not for the money. Just one more little Richmond surprise.

Sinful Apple Pecan Torte...yum!

There’s no doubt in my mind that the Belmont Food Shop — and Steve and Mike — are going to be an important part of the community centered lifestyle in this historic Richmond neighborhood. They make their breads daily and hand cut their roasted meats, much of which they get from Polyface Farms in the Shenandoah Valley. They use local food purveyors whenever possible, like Manakintowne Specialty Growers, Buffalo Creek Beef and Black Hand Coffee Company. And they feed their friends. Well. Try it out. You won’t be disappointed.

Buon viaggio!

Dream of Italy’s Umbria Harvest Week is a wonderful introduction to the food, the wine and the craft of Umbrian living. I could have used another week because I wanted to keep going. Grazie a Kathy e tutti! — Linda Dini Jenkins

The gorgeous olives

Yep. That’s what I said about it on the evaluation form. And she’s doing it again. Kathy McCabe, that is, Editor and Publisher of the wonderfully informative Dream of Italy newsletter. (If you’re an Italophile, you really should subscribe.)

I went on her 2010 Umbria Harvest Week: Food, Wine and Ceramics. She calls it a gourmet Umbria tour, and that it is. And since my spring trip to Verona fell through this year — and if you really wanted to get to bella Italia this year — consider going on this adventure with Kathy in the fall (November 5 – 11). She’ll show you Umbria like a native, and you’ll eat very, very well. Food is what Umbria, the green heart of Italy, is all about.

Start by staying at La Fattoria del Gelso, a 17^th century farmhouse villa

After the harvest

near  Assisi. You’ll be part of a small, well-cared-for group that shares many adventures. You’ll visit Deruta, Italy’s ceramics capital. Then you’ll eat. You’ll tour wineries and an olive oil mill. You’ll eat. You’ll get a 1/2 day cooking class that will put you in a food stupor, but in a good way. You’ll go to the dogs . . . to hunt for truffles. And then you’ll eat. You’ll get guided tours of St. Francis’s beloved Assisi and the historic Umbrian capital of Perugia. And did I mention you’ll eat?

There’s more — and it’s all included in the price. Room. Board. Food. Wine. Guides. Van. And more. Only airfare and transportation to the villa are extra, and Kathy can help you with that. Check out the 2011 itinerary here.

At the Winery

So think about it. If you wanted a trip to Italy this year and you missed out on Verona — which we’ll offer again next year, so keep the spring open — this is the trip to go on. Tell Kathy I sent you.

Buon viaggio!

His love for glasswork and his desire to guarantee the Murano glass tradition led him, in his retirement, to teach future generations of those who share this passion, including in the United States at nonprofit glass centers such as Public Glass in San Francisco and Chicago Hot Glass. — The GLASS Quarterly Hot Sheet, December 21, 2010

You never know who you’re going to meet when you go on a trip abroad. This past November, when I went to Umbria with Dream of Italy’s Umbrian Harvest Tour, I lived amongst a dozen interesting, funny and smart people for a week. I saw two of them — Rosemarie and Valerie — for dinner in New York a few weeks ago. And one couple, Lee and Tarie Harris, are among those I also know I’ll stay in touch with. The very first night, Lee regaled us all, as we sat around the fireplace waiting for dinner, with the prior week’s experiences, among them a three-day trip to Murano to visit his glass-blowing mentor, Elio Quarisa, who was very ill with cancer.

None of us had ever met a glass blower before. A PBS special on Dale Chihuly was about the closest any of us had gotten. But Lee had studied with a “first master” of the Venetian glass school and the love he had for this man and his art and the people who are involved in this incredible industry was evident as he talked into the night.

A month after we returned home, we got an e-mail from Lee saying that his beloved mentor had finally

Maestro Elio and Lee

succumbed to the disease. He was distraught, of course, but grateful for the days he and his wife had spent with Elio and his wife, Adriana. He wanted to get the story out about Elio, his work and the scholarship fund that has been set up by The Studio at the Corning Museum of Glass, where Elio taught in his retirement. I hope you enjoy reading about this amazing man and his efforts to keep an ancient art alive. Thanks, Lee!

“I was incredibly honored not only to be in a workshop with the Venetian Goblet Maestro Elio Quarisa, but to become great friends with him, from the very first day of the workshop at my home glass studio, Chicago Hot Glass, about seven years ago.

Elio and Pino Signoretti, the greatest glass sculptor ever — and one of Chihuly's most treasured Muranese glass artists

“Because of his stature as a living legend I, as well as other top glass artists in the U.S., found ourselves reserved in his presence, to say the least. At the same time, from the first moments of assisting Elio, his quiet reassurance and sincere gestures of kindness made these fears melt away, and in their place came admiration and the sheer joy of being with him.

“With Elio’s awesome good looks, poise and wonderful carriage, he confidently sculpted exceptionally thin and delicate glass into amazing dragon and “delfino” (dolphin) stem creations. You realized quickly that you were in the presence of someone of supreme confidence that only a lifetime of working with glass and the hands of God could produce.

Elio and Adriana

“After only a few weeks of becoming friends with Elio, I and my wife Tarie had the additional gift of becoming friends with his wonderful and beautiful wife, Adriana. I  told Elio that he was actually the Marcello Mastroianni of glass and, were it not for the fact that Adriana had frosted hair, I would have called her the Sophia Loren.

“When you worked with Elio, rushing to bring him a bit of hot glass to finish a complex, delicate goblet, he would look up from the bench, with his wonderful smile, and say, in his broken English, ‘easy, easy…ELEGANTE, slow, breathe’ — in effect, reassuring both the advanced glass artist or neophyte to relax, enjoy and not worry. ‘It’s only glass,’ he would say.

“After these years have passed and now that he has left us, I must admit that if I ever really thought about the

Shaping the dragon

stature of this remarkable glass legend, I might not have experienced the depth and majesty of this amazing man.

“When Tarie I stayed with Elio and Adriana at their wonderful home on the island of Murano, we would walk along the canals, and we would constantly hear people calling out, ‘Ciao, Elio.’ And without even turning around, Elio would call back, ‘Ciao Rosa,’ or whoever it was, knowing everyone by their voice.

“He was Murano — a time and place where neighbors came out early in the morning, sweeping their front streets, or trimming their flowers in the planters of their front windows.

“Seeing this gentle Maestro, one would never know that he had actually gone to work in the glass factory at nine years old during World War II, when his father died and he needed to help support his mother and sister. At an early age, he was recognized for his energy and amazing glass talents. By the time he was 21, he was regarded as a ‘Primo Maestro,’ the highest level of glass artist in what has been the undisputed glass center for 1,200 years.

“After working with several different famous glass studios in Murano, he worked for nearly 30 years at the exclusive — and oldest — furnace in Murano: Barovier & Toso. Jacobellus Barovier was a French chemist, who started the company in 1295. His secret glass coloration formulas are still held by this glass studio, and the company is still held by the Toso family. Elio became their chief of design, in itself an amazing accomplishment.

Signing one of his amazing dragon goblets

“I visited with Elio in November, just a month before he died, hoping that his battle with cancer would end differently than it did. I am grateful that for those amazing three days, not only did I find Elio mobile, but could hardly keep up with his energy.  One day he and Adriana had planned to have his cousin and his wife meet the four of us at the ‘vaporetta’ (water taxi) to get their cars at the Venice airport parking garage, to tour part of the mainland and have a wonderful lunch and dinner. It was about a 12-hour day, and though Elio was experiencing intense chemical poisons to kill the cancer, he never complained and hardly seemed tired.

“Those three days will always be something that makes me smile, because I was with ‘my Elio’ at his home, finding the embracing residents of Murano, whether garbage collector or fellow maestri, all happy, as always, to see Elio.  And, as usual, Elio would stop and ask them how they were, and would want to know how their family and friends were…to catch up.  He would listen and look into their eyes with each word they spoke.

“Of course the people of Murano — many of whom were his artistic contemporaries, legends, suppliers and shop owners who had the benefit of being a part of their lives and their families — also felt he was ‘their Elio.’ I can only smile with the one thought, that perhaps he is now God’s Elio, which I am jealous of.

“So, when I email or speak with other Maestro friends, or glass suppliers and friends in Murano and Venice, when we say hi, or goodbye, we say ‘Ciao.’  To me, it has the same meaning as ‘Shalom,’ because when Elio said Ciao, he meant take care of yourself, because I care about you and your well-being and want you to be happy.

“Ciao, Elio. Shalom.”

Lee wanted me to tell you about a wonderful project being organized by the Corning Glassworks:

Elio, after he retired, came to the U.S. to be sure that anyone interested in Classic Goblet creation could learn from, study with or simply watch the Maestro. It was critical for him that his love of Muranese Goblet design would live on. And so The Elio Quarisa Scholarship Fund has been created by Corning Glass. Each year, Corning hopes to have Elio’s legend live on by awarding scholarship(s) to students wishing to learn and develop classic Venetian Goblet creation.

For more information, contact Amy Schwartz at 607.974.8914 or thestudio@cmog.org. To donate by check, please make checks payable to: The Corning Museum of Glass (designate which scholarship fund in memo/note). Mail donations to: The Corning Museum of Glass, Development Office, One Museum Way, Corning, NY 14830.

Buon viaggio!

I’m going to show you the real New York — witty, smart, and international — like any metropolis. Tell me this: where in Europe can you find old Hungary, old Russia, old France, old Italy? In Europe you’re trying to copy America, you’re almost American. But here you’ll find Europeans who immigrated a hundred years ago — and we haven’t spoiled them. Oh, Gio! You must see why I love New York. Because the whole world’s in New York! — Oriana Fallaci

I was in New York City last weekend. A native New Yorker, I need to go a few times a year, and I am reminded of another quote each time I go. This one is from the writer Sherwood Anderson, who said:  “I think you know that when an American stays away from New York too long something happens to him. Perhaps he becomes a little provincial, a little dead and afraid.” Maybe so; I don’t want to find out.

Anyway, my friend Sharon and I flew up last Friday night for a girl’s weekend. We had tickets to a play at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. (That’s not true, really — we had tickets to see Alan Rickman. He could have stood there and said nothing for two hours and we would have been happy). And I had a mission. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about a certain little Italian comestibles shop called Eataly.

Hotel Mela: Trendy Lobby Area

We checked into the Hotel Mela (which means “apple” in Italian; I loved that) on West 44^th Street. A super friendly boutique hotel that opened in 2007 right in the heart of Times Square, Hotel Mela is comfortable, features amazing staff, offers free Wi-Fi, has beautiful Egyptian cotton sheets and is remarkably well-priced for a hotel this cool. Best of all, it sits directly across from one of my all-time favorite hangouts, Café Un Deux Trois, which I discovered when I worked a few blocks north in the 1970s. A pleasant surprise was that the Café is now open for breakfast as well as lunch and dinner, and it was oh-so-continental to start the day with a steaming cup of caffe au lait under the chandeliers.

And let’s face it . . . I came to eat. So Sunday morning we set off to be at Eataly when it opened at 10:00. The fact that I could even think about eating again after the fabulous dinner we ate with friends Barbara and Geoff on Saturday night in the tiny and tres chic Aurora (Soho) was another thing. It takes practice and, I’ll admit it, I’m well practiced at over-eating good food. Not to mention good wine.

But back to Eataly. Twenty-third Street and Fifth  Avenue (right where, as I once said in a poem, “Fifth  and Broadway do-si-do . . .”) will never, ever be the  same. This was not even a neighborhood when I  lived in New York (and I lived just 4 blocks away!).  The only reason you’d go over to this corner was to  catch a cross-town bus. Especially on a Sunday  morning. My, how things have changed!

Getting there early was a good idea. The entrance  that we chose opened into a little Italian café . . .  authentic coffee concoctions (made from Torino-based Lavazza, of course) were paired with yummy pastries, and couples and families were coming in slowly and filling up the seats. It was friendly and bright and relaxing and we were off to a good start. As the morning went on, the crowds grew more intense and, while I’m not big on crowds, there was something enjoyable about this. Maybe because we were all here to have the same experience. Maybe because there were so many different languages being spoken (including a whole lot of Italian) and it was transporting. Maybe because the places is just so smartly designed and the products are so irresistible that you didn’t care. We stayed for nearly five hours.

Eataly was created in 2007 in Torino (Turin), Italy, the brainchild of Oscar Farinetti, an appliance/food store impresario who had a dream to create an experience that combined the elements of a lively Italian marketplace with a resource where customers could eat, shop and learn. His first 30,000 square foot enterprise began the journey to make high-quality Italian foods available to everyone. Today there are Eatalys throughout Italy (Torino, Bologna, Milano, Asti and Pinerolo) and Japan (Daikanyama, Mitsukoshi and Gransta); the New York City location, which opened in 2010, is the latest venture.

Joined by business partners Mario Batali, Lidia and Joe Bastianich and the Slow Food Movement, Farinetti’s Eataly NYC is a singular experience, sometimes overwhelming but always amazing. The store’s 10-point Manifesto begins with the statement, “We’re in love with food” and sets the tone for the tour. These people are passionate about food and passionate about sharing it with the public. They believe in selling quality products (which means they don’t always come cheap) and offering quality service. I wasn’t disappointed.

Delizioso!

Where to start? What’s your pleasure? Fish? Buy it for later and enjoy the raw bar while they wrap up your gorgeous selection. Vegetables? There’s a produce market like none you’ve ever seen and you can be seated to enjoy fresh-made soups, bruschettas and more. Pizza and pasta? Of course. A little wine and cheese? Go straight to La Piazza for your tastings. Looking for some bread or sweets to take home? There are almost too many to deal with. There’s a selection of house wares in the back, including the always amusing Michael Graves-for-Alessi selections. Restrooms? Of course. And, as the sign says, they’re in the back by the beer . . .

Bello carciofo!

While all the individual tasting areas were more than tempting, Sharon and I opted to have the full Eataly experience and put our names in for a 12:15 seating at Manzo, the formal dining room. I’m happy to report that this meat-centric restaurant has something for everybody, even mostly-meat-avoiders like me. The service was impeccable and the food was to die for. We each started with an appetizer — a roasted beet salad with hazelnuts, poppy seeds and smoked ricotta for one, and then crispy baby artichokes with oven-dried tomatoes on a bed of arugula with a dressing of whole mustard and olive oil. We could have stopped there. But of course, we didn’t.

Ham and Cheese!!

Sharon had the Girasoli di Mortadella with Pistachios and Scallions. There’s nothing quite like a stuffed pasta in the shape of a sunflower to make you smile! And I opted for the Angolotti del Plin with Brown Butter and Parmigiano. These closed-up little guys were stuffed with a combination of chicken and mortadella and the shaved cheese on top was so sweet it almost made me cry. Stop there? Not on your life! Bring on the Torrone Semifreddo and café! Sure, it would have been cheaper if we’d just gone over and ordered a slice . . . but really, who knows when I’ll get back here? I have no regrets, just another pound or two to work off before the next Weight Watchers weigh-in. I only wish I could have stayed for one of the Lidia Bastianich-inspired cooking classes. Next time . . .

And with that, we went back to the hotel to wait for our car to the airport, armed with a few gift selections and good memories of the theatre, the restaurants, the hustle and bustle of it all and Eataly. You should go. Sign up for the mailing list and take a cooking class. Travel to Italy without the passport. Mangia bene!

Buon viaggio!

Kathy McCabe, Editor and Publisher of the informative — and beautiful — travel newsletter, Dream of Italy, is my guest this week.  Over the last eight years she has published nearly 80 issues, each one chock-a-block full of stories about Italian culture and essential “insider” travel tips for the Italophile and first-time traveler alike.

She’s an experienced travel planner and I recently had the pleasure of accompanying her on her first Umbrian harvest adventure. Read what Kathy has to say about travel, leaving France for Italy and fox terriers!

Did your parents take you traveling as a child? Are they responsible for your getting bitten by the travel bug?

Yes, they did and they deserve much of the credit for putting me on this path. I think it is such a gift to give children exposure to other cultures and places, especially during their most formative years. When I was 10 years old, my parents took advantage of the “new” budget airline People Express (anyone remember them?) and took me to London. I fell madly in love with Europe, history, travel and everything that goes along with it.

When did you first go to Italy and was it love at first sight?

Technically, I first stepped on Italian soil during a short trip around France when I was in college. I was traveling with a friend and we decided to take the train from Nice to Santa Margherita Ligure over the border in Italy. We spent the day and evening exploring Santa Margherita and Portofino and I was completely and totally smitten.

You must understand, I was quite the Francophile at this point, studying international relations with an emphasis on France. Poor France never had a chance after that one day and night in Italy. I remember how we ate gelato in a little piazza as the townspeople took their evening passeggiata. It was the first time I had the feeling I was in an old-time Italian movie. I’ve definitely had the feeling more than a few times since then.

The next summer, I convinced my mom to come back with me to Italy right after my college graduation. We did Venice, Florence, Rome and the Amalfi Coast. I haven’t missed a year since and now visit two or three times a year.

What is your favorite region of Italy and why?

This is a dangerous question. It is kind of like asking about favorite children! That said, I will say that my favorite city is Rome, followed in a close second by Torino. I think Turin and the region of Piedmont are still so “under the radar” and well worth visiting. Some of the best food and wine I have had in all of Italy — and I have been to just about every region — has been in Turin and Piedmont.

I’m fairly partial to southern Italy and often say if I had the money I would buy a house near the water (three-quarters of the region is surrounded by ocean) in Puglia – another of my favorite regions. There are farms with vineyards, olive trees and vegetables, separated by neatly constructed stone walls. The giant olive trees, several feet in diameter, twisted and towering, are startling. Puglia is famous for its trulli, small conical buildings made from limestone, first built in the 13th century and are  unique to this region.

As a long-time subscriber to your newsletter, I am always amazed by the depth and breadth of information that comes packed into each issue. How do you get your story ideas?

I’d say the majority of my story ideas come from my own travels to Italy, but I also have been lucky to have some great writers (including Matt Tyrnauer  from Vanity Fair) pitch me with ideas from their own travels. I strive to provide information that can’t be found elsewhere or that is presented in a new way. More than 40% of Dream of Italy’s subscribers have been to Italy six or more times. They are always looking for something new – new restaurants, hotels, exhibits, stores, cooking classes, etc. And I’m always looking to bring my readers educational and authentic experiences that they can take part in or recreate.  They want to experience the “real” Italy and interact with everyday Italians.

I had the pleasure of taking part in your recent small group Umbria Harvest Tour and it was wonderful. Most Americans tend to go to Rome or somewhere in Tuscany — why did you choose Umbria? (I’m glad you did!)

Kathy, tasting fresh Umbrian olive oil

I had been to Umbria several times when, several years ago, my friends the Menards invited me to their newly purchased villa – Fattoria del Gelso. It was harvest time – late October/early November and this is one of my favorite times to visit Italy (what is considered the “off-season”). We had such an amazing week eating, drinking, eating more, drinking more – no really, wine tasting at vineyards, truffle hunting, visiting an olive mill.  I don’t remember running into any other Americans while we took our day trips. This is the real Italy and really jives with Dream of Italy’s mission.

For years, subscribers have been asking for me to personally run some small organized tours and Dream of Italy’s Umbria Harvest Week was my first tour.  I think, as you know, it was an incredible success! Our guests were shedding tears on the last night because they had such a phenomenal time and totally bonded with fellow members of the group.

Will you be doing this trip (or others) again?

Dream of Italy’s Umbria Harvest Week will be held again in November 2011. There’s a possibility I may offer another small group tour in 2011, as well.

I know you love Fox Terriers and that you recently lost your very special doggie, Cooper. Will you be getting another one and can we see a picture?

Thanks for asking about the incredible Cooper Leonardo McCabe. Who would have guessed 10 years ago that this little guy from the New York Avenue shelter in Washington, DC would have such a great impact on my life?  He was so incredible and had a voracious appetite for life and food – he was surely Italian in a former life.

Finney, the happy dog, with his new owner

When Cooper passed away in August, I worked with American Fox Terrier Rescue to establish The Cooper Fund to help homeless and abused fox terriers.  In conjunction with Dream of Italy, we held a very effective fundraiser in the early fall and have something even bigger in the works (and related to Italy) this winter.

Recently, one of the tireless American Fox Terrier Rescue board members – Debi Drake – knew she had the right little guy for me. His name is Phineas, or Finney for short. He’s two years old and is so sweet and playful.

How can people get in touch with you to (a) subscribe to Dream of Italy or (b) to learn more about upcoming small group trips?

A subscription to Dream of Italy comes with a number of benefits, including Italy travel discounts, and you can find out all about them on our subscription page. The Umbria Harvest Week details will be posted in January. Folks can always follow me on Twitter or Facebook for all kinds of Italy travel advice, giveaways, deals, etc.

Thanks, Kathy!

Buon viaggio!