I won’t lie.  We’ve been eating a LOT while in Italy.  I can tell that I’ve been gaining weight, and you know what?  I don’t care one iota.  Zero.  Zilch.  Goose egg.  The food here has been delicious.  And while we’ve had some memorable meals in some great restaurants, nothing beats a home-cooked meal in someone’s home.

Our week in Monteferrante centered around food – eating a meal, recovering from having eaten too much at that meal, and then preparing for the next meal.  We had prosciutto.  We had cheese.  We had pasta.  We had salad.  We had soup.  We had bread.  We had veggies.  We had fruit.  We had pastries.  We had wine.  We had grappa.  And that was just on the first day.

We had meals with family every day, and lunch and dinner each lasted a couple of hours.  In addition to filling our bellies, this was a social gathering as well.  We shared stories and got to know each other.  This was the first time Chad and I had met the Italian relatives, so it was really nice to be able to spend time with them over several meals and over several days.  Everyone was so nice and welcoming that we felt right at home from the time we arrived.  And never mind that it was non-stop Italian language.  We made it all work.

When not eating, we would sit on the benches in the square and watch people go by, or we would stroll through the small streets of the village.  We also went to the little bar a couple of times to have a Campari spritz and watch the old men play cards.  And I am also guilty of taking a nap or two in the afternoon, sleeping off lunch and getting ready for dinner.  What a relaxing week!

A typical meal would start with a simple appetizer – cured meat, cheese, local salami, maybe some olives.  Then the first course which was usually pasta.  The second course might be cooked veggies or a hearty salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, and cooked potatoes.  Red table wine accompanied all of this.  Then came the fruit – watermelon, peaches, and figs are all in season right now.  Then dessert with a mix of pastries and cookies.  Then a ‘digestivo’ (a liqueur to help with digestion) such as grappa.  And then an espresso.  Now does the afternoon nap make sense?

Throughout the week, everyone contributed to the meal prep.  84-year-old Maria made pizzas for us one evening, and she taught Chad her way of making pasta on another occasion.  84-year-old Adolfo made his special ‘sugo’ (tomato sauce) for one of our pasta lunches, and it was so good.  Adolfo’s daughter, Gabriela, prepared several meals for us in Adolfo’s house, and her cousin Vincenzo, who is a chef and sommelier, was the maestro for Jim’s birthday luncheon. 

On our last evening we went down into the valley to Cinzia’s pizza restaurant, and I ate the best pizza of my entire life.  (My fave was the bacalao and zucchini.)  After that dinner, Chad and I would head back to our B&B and then would leave the following morning for Naples.  As we said good-bye to our Italian relatives, we gave hugs and kisses and made promises to see each other again. 

I was doing just fine until I hugged Gabriela, and then I lost it.  And I mean I totally lost it and started crying big crocodile tears.  I was sobbing so much that I couldn’t even talk.  My emotions surprised me at the time, but, as I think back on it, over just a few short days, I had developed new friendships and broadened my familial ties.  It wasn’t just that I had met new people.  It was that I had discovered a new part of my family tree.