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Along for the Ride in the Mugello Valley
June, 2008
Pino and his moto in
small Mugello valley village
I was just "along for the ride", so to speak: the ride with Pino on the motorcycle through the spectacular Mugello Valley area in northeast Tuscany. Destination: Moto GP or Motociclismo Gran Premio on June 1st. Pino quite literally was "along for the ride" : to exult for the second year at the Moto GP in Mugello, certain to see Valentino Rossi blast his way to victory once again in the motorcycle Gran Premio.
Pino had come to the Moto GP last year with our son, Keegan and they had stayed at a wonderful agriturismo (farmhouse B&B) in the wooded hills above the Mugello Valley. My turn this year - though I had decided not to join Pino at the Gran Premio, opting instead for a day in the countryside, walking, reading, writing and getting to know our agriturismo hosts whom Pino and Keegan had so enjoyed.
We left Umbria on Pino's motorcyle late Saturday afternoon (the day before the GP), cutting off the AI superstrada at the "Incisa" exit and heading north towards Pontassieve into the Mugello Valley, fertile green basin bordered by woods and about 30 km in length, flanked by the Appeninne backbone on one side and the Arno River trajectory on the other.
The soft contours of the Mugello
Our Mugello "retreat"
View from our window of the Mugello
How to stay underwater surrounded by views like this?!
Eighteenth-century Gancia farmhouse now welcomes guests
Gianna's happiest when she's feeding her guests!
Marcello's grilling us the bistecche fiorentine
Lia picks wildflowers as we hike with Marcello
Pino and I with proud Marcello in the family tabernacolo
The curvy road snaked past vineyards, fields and small villages and suddenly, Pino headed us off onto a dirt road that climbed upwards into a wooded area. Fields of barley, oats and weed spread out below us in golden tones and a profusion of multi-colored wildflowers carpeted occasional patches of untilled land. We passed a sign indicating a turn-off to the ruins of a 12th century feudal castle and monastery and then turned off at the next bend onto a gravel road.
"Pino! Finalmente!" - from a tall woman coming down a path towards us waving her arms in welcome. Signora Gianna (though I would soon call her just "Gianna" at her own insistence) gave us both warm and welcoming hugs.
She helped us unload our motorcyle and led us to our "room": a large apartment, actually, with an open-hearth fireplace in the spacious living area. Beamed ceilings opened onto a roomy kitchen. Two large bedrooms and a good-sized bathroom completed our lodgings. I noted the windowsills of local stone, at least about 15" wide, attesting to the width of the ancient walls. In the heat of the summer, these massive ancient walls certainly provide "natural air-conditioning".
I climbed down through the fields to the house, where Gianna's son Marco was toasting bread for the evening bruschetta on the grill. I was to learn later that Marco (age 32) is the reason that his family now cultivates the land and has opened the farm to visitors: he did not want to join his father in the running of the family metalworking factory and so now works their land, thanks to the daring venture undertaken by his parents over twenty years ago. His mother Gianna and father Marcello heard about the tenuta (landholdings) - not far from their own home at the time - once owned by the Piedmontese Gancia family. Famous for their Spumante production, the Gancia dynasty had owned vast tracts of land in Tuscany but as the elderly of the family died, the younger Gancia decided to sell.
In the high Mugello area, the Gancia were selling about 300 acres of woods and agricultural land, once the property of Cardinal Passerini (a scribe in the Medici courts). Also part of the estate and for sale were Cardinal Passerini's 17th c country villa in ruins, as well as the 18th century home of farmers who had worked the land and other rural buildings. Gianna and Marcello Manetti walked the landholdings one day and fell in love with it. They bought the property in 1987 and years of meticulous restoration on the buildings concluded about ten years ago.
They now live in the restored casa padronale ( "home of the landowner", in this case, the Cardinal) and in their large kitchen. mamma Gianna serves breakfasts and delicious dinners of Tuscan country cuisine to their guests. Pap Marcello serves the wine while entertaining with stories of the area and Marco and his sister Giulia help too.
After my chat with Marco, I walked over to his family's home, the white stuccoed casa padronale, to look more closely at the Della Robbia style Madonna and Child over the door. Put up there just recently, Marcello and Gianna had chosen it to replace the original Della Robbia Madonna over Cardinal Passerini's entryway, stolen during the recent restoration. After that sad episode, the family took down the marble plaque on the same wall commemorating the completion of the home of Cardinal Passerini in 1621. It is now safe inside, right over their computer!
A couple other guests soon joined Marco at the grill. Others dropped in to chat with Gianna in the kitchen as she prepared our dinner, chatting with her over a glass of the local vino rosso. The long table was set and the array of antipastos was a temptation for anyone lingering in the kitchen: a huge platter of crostini al pat di fegato (Tuscan liver pat on bread), marinated wild mushrooms, stufffed tomatoes, slices of salami (from the pig they had slaughtered this winter) and zuccini frittata. Just "to start".
The table soon filled up with family and guests; we all had Gran Premio links. Paolo and Antonietta are from Milan and both are reporters and at the Moto GP with press passes. Paolo told us at dinner, "..and besides, I like noise, all kinds of noises. If you don't like noises, forget it." Pietro, psychologist, is from Calabria, about sixty years old, has been riding a motorcycle since he was 15 and this is his second Moto GP "live". He brought along his friend and colleague Bruno from Salerno, of about the same age and here to "forget about someone not worth remembering" (a woman, he told me later). Lia from Reggio Emilia had decided to give her fianc Filippo the Gran Premio as a birthday present. "We watch all the Moto GP's on TV together and 'Valentino' is the name of my dog!" Lia told me. Pasta with zucchini and shrimp followed the antipasto array and then a mushroom risotto before we moved on to local grilled meats and salad, winding up our "banquet" with tozzetti ("biscotti") to dip in the vin santo. We all raised glasses to Valentino Rossi, wishing him luck for the race the next day, and everyone headed off to bed; the Gran Premio appassionati would be up early.
Pino was long gone when I awoke Sunday morning, Moto GP day. I spent the day reading, swimming, writing and talking with Gianna. I had lunch with the family and then returned to our apartment to write. In late afternoon, the Gran Premio fans started to return, each one sunbunt, each euphoric over Valentino Rossi's victory. As Marcello was starting the woodfire on the grill for the huge bistecche fiorentine, Pino arrived exhausted and elated. Stories were shared around the grill, vino rosso in hand. Unequivocably, l'esperienza di una vita. I'll be there next year with him!
Our final dinner that evening was a celebratory gathering. In honor of the victory, the banquet that night was even more abundant: Gianna had made a wonderful Tuscan beef broth which she cooked with rice and then served the broth's boiled meats as a second course. The huge Florentine steaks (of the tender meat of the massive white Chianina oxen) followed - and then chicken breasts for those passing up (!?!) the succulent bistecche. Then roasted peppers. Eggplant next, followed by salad. Strawberries in lemon juice concluded. Vin santo was slipped in there, too. And dare we forget the spumante to toast the victorious Valentino Rossi?!
Monday, June 2nd was a national holiday (la Festa della Repubblica) and we had planned to leave later on that morning. We ended up leaving after lunch: Marcello proposed taking us along with Lia and Filippo (who were still there, too, and leaving that day) on a hike down across their fields and through the woods to the small 15th century shrine they had found in ruins and restored. We set off, across fields, through woods, and as we walked, Marcello filled us with lore: the woes of a recent chestnut blight, the bird hunters favorite hiding spots, new hi-tech equipment for the cutting of the forests. At times, we spotted deer and European porcupine tracks in the mud. In the open fields, Lia picked blue cornflowers, pale pink wild roses, daisies, perfumed yellow broom, and purple clover. As the trail wound through stretches of the Manetti family's woods, we hiked past the cords of oak and chestnut logs awaiting transport to the mills and nearby and Marcello pointed out to us the early 19th century stone property markers, peeping out of the brush.
We had walked about an hour when we reached the small stone shrine or tabernacolo, as Marcello called it. He and Marco had planted trellises of roses along side of the shrine and 3 stone steps led up to it. As he took out the key to open it, Marcello told us with pride of the dedication upon conclusion of restoration some years ago. People came from all around for the blessing of the tabernacolo and then feasted with wine and prosciutto sandwiches under the trees nearby.
Inside the shrine, Marcello lit a candle on the small and simple altar with a a Della Robbia Madonna e Bambino above it. I asked him if he always left a lit candle. "Si", he said with a smile, "cosi ci guardi" ("so that she will look over us").
From the tabernacolo, we hiked up a hill to a lovely restored stone house, in the midst of fields, overlooking woods and the Mugello valley below us. This, too, belongs to the Manetti family and to call this a "restoration" project would be an exaggeration: the house was erected from just the faint outline of the foundations barely perceptible on the ground. Research by Marcello Manetti revealed that on the site, from probably the 11th century, was an esicattoio ("drying barn") for chestnuts. Nowadays, it is nearly impossible to build any new structures anywhere in Italy on rural land but if there is any evidence of a pre-existing structure - no matter how faint - permission can be given for a structure of the same dimensions. A well-researched building proposal presented by Marcello gave fruit.
Chestnut beams grace all rooms in the stone house which is quite roomy and can sleep four. The Manettis now rent this little retreat as well. Marcello called Marco after our visit to the former esicattoio and he came to pick us up in the Land Rover. The hike back up the hill would have taken us a couple hours and Gianna had lunch ready. We celebrated the June 2nd Festa della Repubblica with abundance: a creamy pasta dish preceded a pumpkin risotto. Meatloaf followed. Then Gianna served roasted lamb wtih potatoes cooked in the juices, seasoned with rosemary. Groans around the table. Game birds grilled on the spit with interspersed with crostoni (toasted bread crusts) came next. Gianna's wild mushrooms under oil trailed not far behind. Limoncello and a Gianna homemade fruit tart ended the feast - and our glorious stay in the Mugello.