Sono ancora indeciso su cosa fare da grande. Voi ci avete già pensato?
Niente, mi vengono sempre le solite cose tipo pompiere, pilota di formula 1, cantante rock, cuoco (di successo), George Clooney, commissario Maigret, Nero Wolf.
Niente di originale, peccato. Eppure qualcosa di buono ogni so the combination, indeed, in this combination because Ciccina is second to none: we know how to do the blitz. We have made considerable
blitz type affected in Rome to try the flan onions Finger and the Moon and back or Paris to buy les Moutardes de Maille, place de la Madeleine (power minute).
This winter, in the most classic of our blitz, we went to Scansano (GR) for spratichirci a bit 'with the famous Morellino (which is not a horse as you well know), completed an apprenticeship at "The Cantina "(Via della Botte) accompanied by a dinner that define gargantuan means to minimize, and on dormitoci quite convinced of its virtues preclear the next morning we decided to get lost in campaigns to delay as much as possible, and avoid coming home, again as far as possible, coincide with the bikers on Sunday.
do not know if you ever deliberately lost in the bushes (?) In unfamiliar territory.
To reassure you I assure you that it is easier than you think.
In our mental map we had one certainty: Lake Bolsena was south-east and Orvieto (A1) definitely to the east.
Actually we also had a steely determination: choose the country roads.
The trunk full of fine wine can ensure one's survival. Be that as it is after
about 5 hours and only 80 km routes, rural roads through fields, woods and forests, we found ourselves with some that made us hungry eyes open wide in search of the impossible: Something (or someone) to eat! Tempers start to get tense, appearing with phrases like, I told you so ... the harmony of the previous night was only a dim memory of the good times gone by. What can hunger.
was two in the afternoon, pass through the villages in the food and restaurants were barred even the shadow. We fail to pledge not to look at the map and find that, more or less 10 km, where we Lazio, Tuscany and Umbria kissing undisturbed. It is probably one of the most beautiful in Italy, if you love the bucolic / rural, but when it does not console us.
Ciccillo We were discussing whether he would prefer to be with me or Ciccina behold, all of a sudden (yes, just like in a fairy tale) see a sign that informs us that the Poderetto is open! The Poderetto? Our question is moved and tearful eyes, wink and away, with a stupid smile I put the arrow on the left (useless, we were alone in the desert) and go!
do not know if you ever deliberately lost in the bushes (?) In unfamiliar territory.
To reassure you I assure you that it is easier than you think.
In our mental map we had one certainty: Lake Bolsena was south-east and Orvieto (A1) definitely to the east.
Actually we also had a steely determination: choose the country roads.
The trunk full of fine wine can ensure one's survival. Be that as it is after
about 5 hours and only 80 km routes, rural roads through fields, woods and forests, we found ourselves with some that made us hungry eyes open wide in search of the impossible: Something (or someone) to eat! Tempers start to get tense, appearing with phrases like, I told you so ... the harmony of the previous night was only a dim memory of the good times gone by. What can hunger.
was two in the afternoon, pass through the villages in the food and restaurants were barred even the shadow. We fail to pledge not to look at the map and find that, more or less 10 km, where we Lazio, Tuscany and Umbria kissing undisturbed. It is probably one of the most beautiful in Italy, if you love the bucolic / rural, but when it does not console us.
Ciccillo We were discussing whether he would prefer to be with me or Ciccina behold, all of a sudden (yes, just like in a fairy tale) see a sign that informs us that the Poderetto is open! The Poderetto? Our question is moved and tearful eyes, wink and away, with a stupid smile I put the arrow on the left (useless, we were alone in the desert) and go!
welcomes us with a stone hut in the classic plume of smoke rising from the roof and a mangy old Christmas tree.
We Dry snot nose timid and enter, four tables set, a fireplace and Toto (a dachshund, but that name was so we would know later) lying almost in the fireplace.
He lifts an eyelid, Whuffie ago (I told you that German?) More or less as if we had rung the bell at the entrance, the eye closes and goes back to sleep. From the kitchen comes Mariagina (beautiful figure of a woman in Umbria, but was so called after we'd heard) that wipes her hands and looks at us puzzled as to say: are you doing here?
us: it's late per mangiare? Lei: e allora io che ci sto a fare?
La logica stringente della campagna.
Ci sediamo e, miti e arrendevoli come solo l’inedia che ha superato già da un pezzo la rabbia può rendere, ci affidiamo alle sue cure.
E non ce ne siamo pentiti.
Bartolomeo (il so omo, per dirla in umbro- tosco - laziale) ci accudisce e, tra un affettato misto, tagliatelle ai funghi (giura che sono di bosco), carni sapide alla brace e bolliti, ci racconta un terzo (circa) della loro vita.
Apprendiamo di migrazioni in quel di Torino, di lavori tentati e infine di questa avventura dovuta alla Mariagina perché l’è brava in cocina.
Noi parliamo poco (voi capirete perché).
Dozing (I) and play with Toto (Ciccina), waiting for coffee and ammazzacaffè, opens the door and enters a noisy and raucous sprightly old man, poor man, the sight of strangers mutes. Mariagina leaves the kitchen and the rebuke as a child.
Bartholomew comes with a pint of wine (red) and serves it. There is no need to order.
In less than half an hour there were more of four (three quatrains and a beer), the papers appear in Naples. They begin to play and start in our honor, the stories of the campaign, that if Pasolini (dear departed) was still alive, we'd certainly something big. Transcribe them as they came out would have been enough.
Spoken di colture e concimi, di serpi e cinghiali, di fonti prosciugate e pozzi secchi, di espropri e strade inutili, di sovvenzioni pubbliche assegnate senza senno. Si ride ancora (loro), a distanza di dieci anni, di quel tizio che voleva coltivare il kiwi (?).
Noi continuiamo a parlare poco (voi continuerete a capire perché) ma ascoltiamo molto.
Bartolomeo e Mariagina si portano due scodelle di zuppa (mmmh, curiosità! non oso chiedere) e siedono accanto a noi.
In un baleno si fa sera (dopotutto è inverno, no?) e a malincuore ci alziamo (paghiamo cosi poco che converrebbe venire a mangiare qui ogni giorno piuttosto che fare la spesa) e salutiamo gli amici (perché si, ora sono nostri amici).
Fuori decreased the fog, the air is calm, cool and know how to smoke, there promises to be so beautiful for some years. The
we now believe in everything.
Well this place is not a dream.
Yesterday (Sunday) back from a tour (almost all employment) in Romagna and Tuscany (by the way if you happen, make the SS 67 Casentino Tuscany-Romagna, is beautiful) we found ourselves near Orvieto at lunch time ( It is no coincidence, I had calculated all the calendar year).
Our agreement is perfect, just a look (ah, love!), Go out and take the direction Montefiascone Viterbo (SS 71) and there ... We lose. Again.
This time we do not do it on purpose.
We turn to roads and streets, nothing. Consult the road map, nothing. We had simply forgotten the name of the tavern and ask what country it was! Then Ciccina (the mythical) has the most classic of flashes of genius, opens the laptop and view photos of the weekend ... and Winter Wallop! here is the picture of Poderetto. At the first village to ask a native ambulatory (I know !!!!! Good thing, right?) And in five minutes, with the language from the outside, we are at home (their).
The set has changed (it's hot now): outdoor day beds, benches and roof in poor condition, Mariagina, Bartholomew and one of old men playing cards, Toto has a small companion Kya (but called so we learned later), a table set (I swear I was waiting for us) and at least four benches still packed and the harbinger of future customers.
The performance is similar, with slight variations in the choices (crostini and bruschetta, tagliatelle with tomatoes and beans, tripe with mint, chicken cacciatore, pears and chocolate cake for a total of 40 €). Also yesterday, waiting for coffee and ammazzacaffè start to get the other old men, they start talking, playing cards.
If you like the country, if not always need to eat foods signed if you like to chat or (better) if you like listening to the stories of others, as soon as you can, let us jump.
I, meanwhile, take a nap until the next Autogrill guide Ciccina Alcohol_free dream while I will do something great.
Tavern kitchen "The Poderetto ", loc. Poderetto, Castel Giorgio (TR).
Orvieto exit A1, take the SS 71, direction Viterbo Montefiascone.
After about 12 km turn right to the SS 74 towards San Lorenzo again.
After about 6.5 km in Castel Giorgio enter and ask for the way Poderetto and after less than 3 km you will find the right restaurant. If you get lost call 3291373427 Bartolomeo al.
It seems that if you have the Nav Satellite sia più facile. Dubito.
