The Rhythm of Life in Tuscany

Here's what we've been up to since our quick overnight trip to  Cinque Terre.

So, I suppose a little backstory is required to explain why I found myself in the kitchen of our tiny rental house making brownies. 

It all started after our usual Sunday dinner at Caterina's. Lately we've been lingering after everyone else has left, chatting with her as she closes up for the night. This time, when we were getting ready to leave, she sent us home with a slice of cake. Since the restaurant was closed for the next three days, I suspect she didn't want a lot of dessert left over. 

There was just one problem. 

She sent it home on a real plate. 

I simply couldn't bring myself to return an empty plate. It just didn't seem right. So I started wondering, what do you make for someone who owns a restaurant?

Eventually I settled on an American classic: brownies.

First I had to choose a recipe. Sunset's Triple Chocolate Brownies have never let me down, so that part was easy. Then came translating the ingredients into Italian, figuring out suitable substitutions where necessary, buying a brownie pan, converting every cup and teaspoon into grams (thank goodness for the kitchen scale), and finally resizing the recipe to fit the pan I'd purchased. 

After all that math...it was finally time to bake.

Brownie Prep

Brownies

Happily, they turned out beautifully--even if I do say so myself. 

I hadn't baked in well over four years. We never even had an oven in Oregon, so I think the last time was in Las Vegas. It was surprisingly relaxing. I'd forgotten how meditative baking can be. 

As I've been easing back into baking, we've continued our daily walks through the countryside. one of the fun things about staying here through the summer is seeing new plants and flowers emerge. Ira has been watching these unusual blooms develop over the past few weeks. I say Ira has been watching because they're growing behind a stone wall and being a little vertically challenged, I mostly rely on his updates until he decides it's time for a photo.

Summer flower

And then we met the newest visitor to our property.

Meet Tony the Turtle.

Tony the Turtle

Meanwhile, our ballroom lessons continue most weeks. After class Elisa excitedly invited us to a ballroom social hosted by the studio. It didn't start until 9:00 p.m. (very late by our standards!), and featured a live band. 

We almost talked ourselves out of going.

I'm glad we didn't.

When we arrived the studio staff all recognized us, which was nice. After we bought our tickets One of the other instructors called Elisa and then escorted us to her where she then found us seats. She came to check on us and even took me out for a spin and then encouraged us to go out ourselves. We fell into a little bit of a rhythm and ended up having a lot of fun. We stayed a lot longer than we thought we would. Who knows, maybe we'll find ourselves at Bolero next.

In between our Italian and dance lessons, we also managed to cross another item off our to-do list. We took a road trip with Elena to Poggibonsi to visit the piano store owned by one of her father's friends, Signore Checcacci. Dr. Ronzoni had called ahead to let him know we were coming. Elena was curious too; she'd heard so much about him over the  years but had never actually met him. So off we went. We knew we were in the right place as soon as we spotted  the sign at the end of the road. We do appreciate good signage.

Good signage

Piano showroom

Signore Checcacci greeted us warmly and gave us a tour of the showroom, encouraging me to try any piano that caught my eye. Our options were quickly narrowed by one important consideration: space. We were looking for a baby grand no longer than 160cm. To be honest, the whole experience felt a little overwhelming. Up until then, owning a baby grand had been more of a dream than a concrete plan. Standing in a room full of beautiful pianos suddenly made that dream feel very real. Fortunately, I'd brought along some sheet music, so I was able to sit down at each piano and play something reasonably respectable. 

I played several pianos, each one lovely in its own way. Then I sat at a dusty used piano tucked quietly in the back corner of the showroom.

I played the first few notes....

...and immediately knew.

That was my piano.

The sound was so clean and so clear that I stopped thinking about comparing instruments. I had found it. 

The funny part? I had only come to look.

We agreed on a price that included cleaning, tuning and delivery, then simply shook hands. 

No deposit.

No paperwork.

Just trust.

Dr. Ronzoni had vouched for us, and that was enough. 

He took our name and number and that was it. All he asked was for us to send him measurements of the stairwell so they could plan delivery. Holy smokes....we bought a piano! You'll have to wait until after it's delivered, to see it though. In the meantime, Signore Checcacci recommended a place nearby for us to have celebratory lunch.

Cestini di Parmigiano e melanzane

Sformatini di giornata

Tagliatelle coniglio e ceci delle Val d'Orcia

Gnocchetti di ricotta con pancetta e tartufo

We wrapped up the week at English Happy Hour. It's normally held in Follonica, but with the beautiful weather the organizers moved it to Sunny Hill Bar overlooking the coast.

This time, Elena came along too. She wanted to practice her English, and we were happy to introduce her to the group. 

At this time of year the sun sets at its northernmost point, so instead of disappearing into the sea it slips behind the pine forest along the Gulf of Follonica. 

Different from what we expected--but beautiful all the same.

View from Sunny Hill Bar

Sunset from Sunny Hill Bar

It's funny how quickly a "normal" week can fill up with memorable moments. Brownies led to new friendships, a dance invitation became a fun night out, and what was supposed to be a piano-shopping trip ended with us finding the piano I've dreamed about owning for years.

Now all we need is an apartment ready to receive it.

Next up: Cousin Charlotte arrives for her Tuscan adventure.

Ciao, ciao.