Picking Olives, Tuscan-Style

Today we were up early and out the door, dressed to work "in the fields." LOL. Well...not fields exactly, more like a garden really--because we were headed to Dr. and Mrs. Ronzoni's home to help their daughter Elena pick olives from their one tree. 

Ira thought that was perfect: one tree meant we could do an excellent job without spending hours and hours at it. The perfect abridged Tuscan experience.

The Olive Harvest

The sun was shining when we arrived, and Elena handed each of us a bucket. We literally started with the "low-hanging fruit." For us vertically challenged types, that meant working our way up the slope, pulling the bendable branches down within reach. Of course, we also stopped for plenty of photos--so it may have taken us a while to get up to speed. The olive tree, for its part, had a lovely view from up there.

Ronzoni Olive Tree

Olives

View of the Duomo

Eventually, we hit a point where a ladder was required. So when Ira got a call from Niccolò to come pick up the car keys for our trip to Grossetto the next day, he took off to grab both the kays and a ladder. He returned with a rickety step stool from our apartment (questionable choice) but then had to head right back to print more paperwork for our appointment. 

Meanwhile, Elena and I did what we could reach: she balanced on the ladder while I held the bucket and kept the ladder steady. We made good progress, but after a while we came down for a sip of water--and that's when Mrs. Ronzoni offered a brilliant suggestion: "Why don't you just cut the branches you can't reach?"

Well, that's a game-changer!

When Ira got back, Elena decided to prune one of the obvious branches (outside of the silhouette--that's a bonsai joke for those following along). Then she eyed the center of the tree, which was really five trunks growing together, and decided it was sturdy enough to climb.

Elena sawing off a limb

Ira on the stepladder

After all that, here was our haul. Elena and her mother said that last year, the same tree produced about three buckets full--they weren't sure why it yielded less this season.

Olive bounty

Lunch, Tuscan-Stye

We came inside, washed up, and joined Dr. Ronzoni for lunch. He had just returned from the museum, and unbeknownst to us, Mrs. Ronzoni had prepared a feast.

First course: tagliatelle with tomato and piselli (peas)--simple, fresh, and delicious. That alone would have been plenty for us, but then came the green salad, prosciutto and Parmigiano Reggiano from Modena--the same cheese Dr. Ronzoni proudly claims to eat every day. It really was different from what we buy in town--richer, more complex. Ira immediately declared we'd need to find some for ourselves.

By this time, Ira was regretting his second helping of pasta, and both of us were nearing capacity. Thankfully, we finished with small Modena apples. As expected, Dr. Ronzoni was very particular about his apples--he peels the skin but eats the core, while we do exactly the opposite. We both found that hilarious.

Just when we thought we were done--out came the ciambella. Cake! The classic ring-shaped Tuscan version, lightly sweet and perfect with coffee. Of course, we made room for a little slice before rolling ourselves home for a much-needed nap.

Aperitivo Time

Naturally, that could have been the end of the day. But Marie and Gus from Idaho had invited us out for aperitivo. So, I "soldiered up," and we headed across the square to Le Sedici--a new spot for us, though one of their favorites. 

By this time, the evening had turned chilly, so we were happy to sit inside--and, as luck would have it, we had the place to ourselves. We each ordered wine, and soon crostini began to appear. Honestly, I couldn't have been less interested in food if I'd tried (which says a lot for me), but the company was lovely. 

One thing I've really come to appreciate about Italy is that you're never rushed in a restaurant or bar. We sat for three hours, sipping wine and chatting, and not once did anyone try to hurry us along. 

Marie and Gus filled us in on their latest adventure--trying to buy a car in Italy, which as we've learned, is no small feat.

Buying a Car in Italy (the Cliff Notes)

To buy a car here, a foreigner generally needs:

• Residency: A valid Italian residence permit
• Identification: Proof of residence and codice fiscale 
• Vehicle registration: Either through a dealership or, for private sales, at the ACI Public Registry Office
• Insurance: Required before you can even drive the car

And if you're a "new driver: (which includes anyone newly resident in Italy), there are extra rules:

• Limited power-to-weight ratio (55 kW/ton)
• Zero-alcohol tolerance 
• Fewer license points to start with

Oh, and your international driving permit only buys you one year of grace before you'll need to convert your license or take the Italian driving test. 

So, add that to the growing list of "Italian bureaucracy adventures" we'll eventually need to tackle.

All in all--olives, ciambella, and aperitivo--a pretty authentic Tuscan day.

A dopo!

Update

Elena sheepishly brought her modest bucket of olives to the frantoio (olive press). To their credit, they were good sports and exchanged them for a very small bottle of olive oil--better than nothing! The local experts advised giving the tree a bit more water during the heat of the summer to boost production. Elena left determined to do just that!