or headache in English. An excellent lunch out in the countryside on a day that turned out to be sunny and 16C with almost no wind. Quite perfect but perhaps a little too much wine and the grappa seemed such a good idea afterwards too !
So something lively to wake us all up this morning and who better than Luciano and this very catchy tune:
There you will be humming it all day , and so to the lunch :
While eating the brodo ,enjoying the tender morsels of veal mixed with a variety of greenery from the fields with a little garlic and hot chili peppers the fire was lit.
The heat from the fire woke up an extra guest to add to the ones already there
The lizard became livelier as the day wore on as we all became more sluggish.
Pasqua and Pepe with yours truly were three of the six there. The conversation was lively and as the wine took hold my Italian improved but when they have points to make the speed Italians speak defeats me and I tend to sit back and enjoy the atmosphere. I reflected on how lucky I had been to wander into the local bar when we arrived. My father when we holidayed in the Mediterranean would always say that ” the locals must drink and eat somewhere they don’t pay tourist prices” and would spend the first day checking out backstreet bars and restaurants even following small groups of locals to see where they went. My children have enjoyed a similar life on holiday sitting a rickety tables surrounded by rather amazed locals whilst tucking into various dishes normally either picked a random from an incomprehensible menu or chosen by pointing to somebody else’s plate on an adjoining table. So when we literally got off the boat in Southern Italy to live here that was what I determined to do again. Into the bar we strode and as always the place that was full of card players fell completely silent. This is the first test to overcome I find. Order a drink sit down and smile at everyone. By the third visit we were asked who we were and by the sixth what our names were. Now I have a plumber, painter, carpenter, cement man and some nice friends that invite me to lunches even though they sit bemused at the strange language I babble after a few glasses of wine which I believe is fluent italian.
Remember Pasquale’s pig from an earlier post fed on acorns and mainly turned into salami well these are it’s pork chops. So let the fire die down until the embers are left and are red hot and then put the chops on them and cook until done. Place a big bowl of salad on the table with lashings on homemade ( casereccio) bread and a big bottle of olive oil then eat and enjoy the woodsmoke flavour, the burnt edges and the fresh salad. Paradiso
There were two more courses to come but I’ll leave it there for today and leave you with some more Luciano for this Sunday morning. This is the bloggers lament “Starai con me” (Stay with me !)