The outing we embarked on today was without a doubt a highlight of my trip. Not only had I always wanted to come to Italy to learn to cook, which I have done, from a close friend and also Nonna, but I also wanted to go to a farm where they made wine and olive oil. It just do happened that this farm was also the Great Uncle of my friend Gaetano. A 20 minute drive from Positano, along the windy roads which line the coast, this property is set up at the top of a hill which overlooks the sea and has panoramic views of the Amalfi.
As we drove down the driveway I instantly got a warm feeling as though they were my own family. A huge smile grew as I saw the rows and rows of olive trees and also the vineyard. Mario is waving ferociously at us screaming Buongiorno to us, just to make sure we could hear him. We stopped the car as we drove past his wheelbarrow and he leaned into the car to give me a big kiss on each cheek as Gaetano stepped out of the car to greet his uncle. We parked and went inside to meet his Tzia, Maria, who was busy cooking up a storm, like any other day I am told. She was so happy to see us and already ushered us to stay to eat lunch with them, which of course we had to oblidge. It was amazing that the first room that you step into is the kitchen/dining room. It is obvious that this is something which their lives revolve around and this is quite evident to me as we got a guided tour of the garden.
We started at the olive trees inspecting the olives as I was told about the collecting on September and received a personal invite to the event which takes place over a couple of days. This is also around the time when the wine is made so I was told I should not return to Sydney and just stay until they are done, because also by then the homemade pancetta will be ready.
First we walked down to the lower part of the farm, past the vegetable garden in which tomatoes, melanzane and other things are grown, but I was was stopped by the site of small yellow fruits on the tree to my left….apricot. Within a second I had one in my hand and was being told to “mangia mangia”. It had such a strong flavour with a fresh tang that apricots have when the are ripe. In Sydney I would never usually eat apricots as I find them flavourless and boring, but this is something so fresh, I was inspired and my mind was already sprawling with ideas of how to cook with them. And just looking back at the day, I matched the fruit perfectly.
Making our way towards the back I stopped as I tried to announce what I had found in Italian, but my mind went blank….car…carci….carciofe. Violle. One of my favourite vegetables ever, I was so jealous, but then I knew if I ever tried to grow them in my garden I would not have the time and patience to water them and nurture them. Next to the carciofe were the fiori di zucca, something we had in last night’s amazing meal at Next2. Another commodity that is rare and expensive in Sydney, but so abundant here.
At the back of the path was the miele pen, pig pen. I was told that in Autumn, the pigs are killed and every single part of them are used, whether that be in food cooked by Maria, or the pancetta make by Mario, they have grown up in tough times so they do now know the term waste.
We took a right after the pig pen and up on a small raised patch of soil were lemon trees. I did not realise until I started to walk along, was soft, so I started to sink and tried to tread softly. Lemons are famous along the Amalfi coast and is where limoncello comes from. So it is evident that among other things Mario and Maria make their own Limoncello, which I am sure we will sample a bit later.
We heard Maria calling who was telling us lunch was ready so we started to make out way back and a fruit I have never seen in person, only candied were practically bursting out in front of us. They were the maraschino cherries. Much softer skin than normal cherries and delicate juicy flesh, they put the candied version to shame, which do not retain any of their original flavour. The next small berry I did not recognise straight away, especially without colour, but it was just a raspberry in its early stages. Pear was next, but something I knew straight away. My palette was being teased so I was daydreaming already about pear and chocolate tarts, a typical combination in Italy, and I haven’t even eaten lunch yet.
Something this small journey has taught me is how each fruit or vegetable grows and what stages it goes through before it is just right. I still do not think I would know when some things are perfectly ripe, but I was shown a few things which I was grateful for.
Although we knew we should be back, as I was so sad to not try the pancetta as it would not be ready till later in the year, Mario wanted to tease a bit more and show me the pancetta’s hanging in his cellar, where he also pressed the grapes to make his vini. Gaetano was telling me that when he was a child he used to get he task of stomping the grapes with his feet, something he did not enjoy so much, but something I have always wanted to do. We stopped outside though and the most beautiful corn hand above the door. I had to stop and just admire the texture, the colour and imagine how beautiful, juicy and sweet his corn, or maze as they call it, would be when he cuts it fresh from the garden. Inside about 7 or 8 Pancetta logs hang from the roof, drying out, they still have a couple of months to go. This really was teasing me as I knew how much I would love to come back in September, but knew I would not get the chance….this year. Also hanging inside were the most beautiful bunches of garlic, aglio, which Mario told me he braided only this week. I tried to tell him how much l LOVE aglio and how I can eat very strong types.
As we stepped back into the kitchen, the heart of this home, lunch was served. First, penne pomodoro, with tomato sauce and fresh grated reggiano. Of course the bread was cut, but I was astounded at how much there was, about four loaves ready to soak up all that beautiful sauce. I started pouring myself some water but was given dirties by Mario who looked offended. He thought I did not want to try his wine, which my glass was intended for. I tried to convince him “no no, per favour, per favour” I would love to taste it. So I grabbed the glass next to me, whose, it did not matter at that moment, and pushed my glass into his sight to signal for him to pour me some. His frown soon turned to a jockey laugh as he poured away, waiting for my reaction as I took that first sip. “Molto bene” I said, and the laugh was resurrected yet again.
Gaetano then asked me, to my pleasure, if I wanted to try the oil they make. Did I ever! This was one of the reasons I wanted to come and visit. Maria took a special silver jug, fresh plate and soon a clear yellow green liquid formed a puddle on the plate. I grabbed one of the four loaves of bread, ripped a piece and dunk into this heavily substance. It was so fresh and clean, not overly pungent so perfect for drizzling onto vegetables, salads and of course, as Mario did later, onto fresh tomatoes from the garden which were as red as the Ferrari I saw the other day.
I could see there was more food to be had, this was only primi course. I really am struggling to understand how they can eat so much food all the time. When I get back to Sydney I know my stomach will get a rest, but while I am here I need to try everything, and also I am too scared to offend Mario and Maria, so I leave a little penne, stealthily, and prepare myself for secondi. Rabbit Cacciatore, with rabbits grown on the farm of course, served with parmagiana di melanzane, string beans and also his type of sausage, also home made in a tomato sauce which was so heavy and rich, but I could taste each piece of meat pushed into this cylindrical shape. I did want seconds as I enjoyed it so much, but restrained as I knew there would still be more food.
The rabbit was not heavy but really beautiful and infused with rosemary, but I was almost full to the brink by now. Slowly slowly trying to finish most of the things on my plate and when I was almost done, Mario, who had disapeared, served fresh lettuce from the garden drizzled with white vinegar and salt. This is something I always have room for as I love salad and it gave me a break from the richness of the meal.
Finally we finished, so satisfied and my smile was stuck permanantly onto my face. Fresh fruit was placed in front of us, although the plus and cherries were not from their garden, only the mulberries were. I told them the story of when I was a child and my cousins neighbour had a mulberry tree. However, as this tree went over their fence, we used to get a ladder and take the fruit which we would stare at every day as we jumped on the trampoline. As a kid it always brought me great joy and so eating it again now, I felt the same, a kid enjoying the forbidden fruit.
The time now had arrived to taste the limoncello. The label on the front of the bottle written by hand gave me a sense of the strenuous work and effort that these two amazing people go through each day, maintaining their garden, feeding their animals and preparing food each day. Hard yes, but a life I know they would never leave. As we sat there sipping the beauriful yellow spirit, Mario told me about his time in the war, how hard life was and why now he feels like he is in heaven and would never leave his home. Of course I only understood bits and pieces, but was aided by his huge hand gestures. I could tell that he has had an amazing life and am so astounded that this year he turns 80 but is still so strong and healthy. I have no doubt in my mind it is because he keeps himself busy every day and enjoys onl healthy home grown food and wine.
Taking another walk sounded like a good idea. There was still more to see. Mario has two cows, and I asked if he milks them as I did not see any teets, but he told no but that one was pregnant and will give birth later in the year, like everything else that is not quite ready yet.
Walking outside I caught a site of one of my favourite fruits, the fico or fig, but they were still green and picollo, but again Mario decided to disappear and about 10 minutes later returned with something that resembled the fig but was larger and more round. Of course Mario made sure I tried one and waited as I broke one open to take a bite. The follicles inside are very different to the fig, although you can tell they are from the same family. I took a bite and it was like eating a piece of heaven. It was so sweet and juicy, almost like someone had drizzled a little honey, milele, on top. It was perfectly ripe, which is apparent from the colours.
Mario said we must take the others home with us, and when we went to collect our bags Maria had also prepared a bag of pretty much the whole bowl of fruit she had. Both kept asking me when I was coming back to Positano and why I am leaving in the first place. I tried to tell them I did not want to leave, I really wish I could experience a year on this farm to see all the seasons through, the fruits, vegetables, preserves, oil, vini and meats. It would be an magnificent experience I know, and I told them “soon soon”.
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Wow! This looks like my kind of trip. Fantastic photos, and those figs! OMG!
Are you back in Sydney? Love to catch up soon!
F