tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7769662830785928702024-02-06T18:32:02.737-08:00Carly's (and Daisy's!) Cortona CornerTourist Curiosities, musings and some information from Carlotta's Corner of Casa Chilenne B&B, Cortona, Tuscany, Italia.Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-16625345455919776592020-06-28T08:42:00.000-07:002020-06-28T15:50:10.694-07:00The Future of Casa Chilenne<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXQfID44n8E90ZRrkD5UZtyap6zmzjR_LrTkAADUN5gFTF7tn7tE8ONCiPfUifiqN1n-Q-_0VlWdEotNC3V_uzFzjBuD2reG8qCpEMSy0KQdxUnMZsmBNzsX8eVCsP8DfsqFIF_G0/s1600/25may2017+058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAXQfID44n8E90ZRrkD5UZtyap6zmzjR_LrTkAADUN5gFTF7tn7tE8ONCiPfUifiqN1n-Q-_0VlWdEotNC3V_uzFzjBuD2reG8qCpEMSy0KQdxUnMZsmBNzsX8eVCsP8DfsqFIF_G0/s640/25may2017+058.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What are our next steps? (Abandoned shoes found at our Vicolo Scala entrance 2017)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Casa Chilenne has been closed to the public since March 9th, 2020 and we have decided that we will remain closed, for now, until September 1, 2020. We promised that when we re-opened we'd be back better than before, and as we consider the path to this promise it is clear that this is not the moment that it can be maintained.<br />
<br />
During this shut down, so many things have changed. Providing a memorable experience for our guests and extending our homestyle hospitality and service has always been our priority and now more than ever, it is also important that we protect our guests in every way we can from Covid 19 until there is a vaccine, or until the imminent threat is over.<br />
<br />
Those who are familiar with us know that we are a small 5 room establishment which prides itself in offering hotel amenities in a home environment, however, even before the crisis, we had started to notice that the expectations of travellers was changing. We prided ourselves in offering television and telephone service so that people could keep up with the news from home and their loved ones. More often than not there was a newspaper available in the breakfast room in the home languages of our guests. We provide a mini bar for the convenience of our guests at what we feel are fair prices and so that those travelling with medications which need refrigeration have that peace of mind.<br />
<br />
We take pride in offering a "breakfast worth waking up for" so that guests would not have to get dressed and dash out in bad weather, or compete for a table at a coffee bar to sit and relax over breakfast and we love to spoil our guests with specialities of the season or a hot, leisurely breakfast for those who enjoy their holidays that way.<br />
<br />
We have not changed our pricing since 2008 when we opened, yet, we saw our reservation numbers declining over the past few years despite our glowing reviews. The exponential growth of offerings on AirBnB or other such sites, coupled with large hotels marketing cut rate rooms to increase interest in their properties, made us start to question our philosophy.<br />
<br />
Amongst my blog drafts I found the following blog which I started in 2017- today I propose it for your feedback as we evaluate what our future should be. I would appreciate any feedback you can give me. Especially from previous guests.<br />
<br />
<br />
"A No-Frills Future?" a blog draft from 2017<br />
<br />
I met tourism of the future today and it frightened me.<br />
<br />
I was contacted a few days ago by a friend who gives cooking lessons. He told me that he had been contacted by a blogger/journalist who wanted to review one of his cooking classes and would I be willing to offer hospitality for free for some blogspace with pictures. I was torn.<br />
<br />
First of all, I have never, ever paid for reviews of our bed and breakfast. I have never, ever paid commissions to online travel agents like booking.com or hotels.com; the size of our structure and budget just don't allow for it. We were, for a short time listed on AirBnB as a sort of experiment from which we received one guest and I have now paid to be present on a website called bedandbreakfast.it for a flat fee each year for increased visibility in the Italian market.<br />
<br />
I do not pay to have Casa Chilenne listed on TripAdvisor and after refusing their many offers to list my website and contact information for fees starting at 4000 Euro and ending with the last offer at 1250 Euro per year, found my rating as a B&B on their site slip from 1st or 2nd place and never rise again above 4th place, even though the simple math of number of circles awarded divided by number of reviews should land me solidly holding my original placement-go figure.<br />
<br />
After receiving more information from my chef friend about the blogger and obtaining a link to the blog in question I visited it and had even more doubts but, I decided to accept the offer, more than anything else to help my friend obtain his review.<br />
<br />
I already feel incredibly fortunate and honored that well known guidebooks like the Lonely Planet, Frommer's and Routard have included our home in their recommendations to their readers. All three of these inclusions were a surprise and the fruit of anonymous visits by paying visitors. To this day I cannot explain how we were included in Frommer's and Routard.<br />
<br />
The fear that I felt today wasn't tied to economics however, it was more tied to a sort of shaking up of the tenets of hospitality by current technology.<br />
<br />
Amenities that we have invested in and continue to spend money on to upkeep may be swiftly becoming superfluous. Telephones, satellite television are obsolete when a decent WiFi connection is provided (of course for free).<br />
<br />
Can it be that the expectations of travellers have changed so dramatically?<br />
<br />
More and more, I see travellers turning to OTA's like Booking.com, Expedia.com, Hotels.com or websites like AirBnB to find lodging for their holidays. I was visited one summer by a cousin's young daughter who was travelling with an app called couch surfers - or some similar frightening name to find her lodging around Europe.<br />
<br />
Watching this new generation of travelers operate in this manner made me wonder about the future of our establishment. Are we passé? Have accomodations which offer comforts and amenities now obsolete? With the advancements of technology travelers no longer worry about finding a place with television or telephones to stay in touch with news and people back home. More would rather rely on an online review to select a restaurant or activity than asking for recommendations. So what is expected from hosts today?<br />
<br />
<br />
------------end of draft<br />
28 June 2020<br />
We'd appreciate any comments you might have and thank you in advance for sharing them.<br />
Jeanette and Luciano, and of course, Daisy and Jake<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGTu1DI1WPczqiHkh7bsx0DhCWc2Il3Cz1um1QbL8oJWbxlAEPiU7w0JKGZrYljgbVCXZZy0p9UqVsNB7Ll38aBgl4zIR3iEvjWCbfrsDm-Wmx8-pe4DqGCvbiPbVJLEybHPyygyL/s1600/25may2017+040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGTu1DI1WPczqiHkh7bsx0DhCWc2Il3Cz1um1QbL8oJWbxlAEPiU7w0JKGZrYljgbVCXZZy0p9UqVsNB7Ll38aBgl4zIR3iEvjWCbfrsDm-Wmx8-pe4DqGCvbiPbVJLEybHPyygyL/s320/25may2017+040.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-44169954621554530072020-06-07T11:57:00.000-07:002020-06-28T15:50:49.568-07:00Covid 19 Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXYEee88wArW55s6io36sgQObKFy8cdpe1g_NrZMJcknxjYtwalEzl-PxTlQHGziS_Eo_qapX36VqHbQ4I4_b3asczTHY5iamfH4Ygh57b4gZ7Bs8uEtKiuf3GMJpi08GVeqdWn-f/s1600/comune+dopo+C19.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXYEee88wArW55s6io36sgQObKFy8cdpe1g_NrZMJcknxjYtwalEzl-PxTlQHGziS_Eo_qapX36VqHbQ4I4_b3asczTHY5iamfH4Ygh57b4gZ7Bs8uEtKiuf3GMJpi08GVeqdWn-f/s640/comune+dopo+C19.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
The clock started to move forward again on May 4th from the day we shut down Italy on March 9th. We were delighted that our dog groomer was listed as one of the activities which would be able to open its doors again, along with our accountant and legal offices, restaurants being allowed to offer take away foods.. On May 18th all other places of business, were allowed to open, hairdressers and esteticians, clothing shops, restaurants and bars were able to start serving food on premises as long as social distancing rules are observed.<br />
<br />
Borders to the Schengen countries opened on June 3rd and the borders to other countries will remain closed until at least June 15, at which point the EU will evaluate and see if it is the right time to open borders fully.<br />
<br />
In the little more that 2 months that our outside world was put on hold so much has changed. This strange situation, in many ways a social experiment, confining people within the walls of their legally declared households without a certain end date to this time of confinement. There are things that will remain etched in my soul when this crisis has passed into the chronicles of time.<br />
<br />
I will remember this as a time that the people in Italy stopped what they were doing to put value on the mission of preserving lives. At great personal expense, Italians stopped and sheltered, surprising the world and probably themselves with the collaborative and collective spirit which came together and set the tone for this shut down.<br />
<br />
Italians are innately social people, they are also people who have seen the ravages of a war on home soil and the results of collaborating to re-build a nation after, so maybe it came as a natural reaction. When friends and neighbors could not reach out with an embrace they reached out with song in the day and also the night, to let others know they were not alone.<br />
<br />
These romantic images of Italian communities reaching out to one another with music and song, showing support for our health workers with syncronized rounds of applause throughout the nation, the tricolor aeronautic fly overs , the colorful rainbow banners painted by children telling us that "Andrà tutto bene" Everything will be alright, will remain in my mind as the power of a nation coming together as one.<br />
<br />
Now we have been firmly assured by our Prime Minister Conte that we have started Phase 3, that re-opening of Italy has begun. Perhaps these positive images are starting to fade. The reality of re-starting a nation which has been shut down for more than 2 months is daunting. The squabbling and scrabbling for a place of power amongst our politicians has begun.<br />
<br />
The status of Italy as a nation, Italy as a member of the EU have been put to the test during this crisis. The Italian philosophy of "Leaving no one behind" collided with the reality that they may not really have the possibility financially to do the right thing by all its citizens. The systems that weren't working very well, were laid bare to the light. Besides regretting the numerous cuts to the health care system made in the past, employment and the tax system flaws are glaringly evident. The bureaucracy involved in getting the relief funds to citizens in need was cumbersome and not effective in many places, slowing down the promised aid to those in need. The many inventive ways that Italians had used to create employment for themselves which could not come under the umbrella of plans to protect traditional workers were sorely evident. The government offices which handles the monies offered to employees who were laid off during the crisis were overwhelmed by the onslaught of requests. The promises were many and the actual monies arriving were slow in many cases, especially in the bigger urban areas. Many people were left with no way to pay bills, rent and mortgages. Luckily, many banks , insurance and utility companies voluntarily postponed payments and charity organizations and the government did step in to be sure that food got on the table of those who needed it.<br />
<br />
However, I am skeptical that this will be sufficient. I was impressed that the government did try to address many needs of its people. Babysitting was a concern when the factories and offices started to open again as schools were still closed and it was not recommended that grandparents be exposed to risks if they did not live in the same household. Vouchers for tax credits equal to the amount of babysitting services were offered, layoff compensation for businesses with only 1 employee, stimulus money for freelance workers, as well as small businesses were taken into consideration. In the prime minister's address prior to this last one, an offering of Vacation Vouchers to families was announced to aid the tourism industry- however the monies being offered by the government as a discount to citizens translate into an equivalent in tax credits for 2021 to the vacation structures that accept them. The same for a 60% help with rent for business owners- again translating into as tax credit to be used in 2021 or transferred to suppliers or landlord. It seems that a new currency of tax credits is being established in a nation where we are not sure if we can keep our businesses afloat until 2021.<br />
<br />
The European Union was called upon by all its members to decide how they were going to help their members through this crisis. Initially, the EU had seemed to be quite unsympathetic as Italy struggled in March to face the Covid 19 crisis, Tensions ran high as Germany blocked shipments of supplies needed at the borders and later when the northern European members seemed to oppose granting emergency funds to the southern members who were hit the hardest such as Italy, Spain and France, insisting that only low interest loans be made. It seems that negotiations have been successful and an recovery fund of 750 billion Euro has been created to assist the nations facing the worse of this crisis, Italy included. It seems that there are additional funds available earmarked for specific purposes such as healthcare improvements if EU nations wanted to accept it and pay it back with very low interest.<br />
<br />
The challenge now will be for government to come together to fix some of the defects which became so evident in light of this crisis. Prime Minister Conte addressed the nation again on June 4th, to confirm that the health impact of Covid on the nation was definitely under control and that the sacrifices and strict measures we had taken were paying off. He also confirmed that Italy would be opening to the world soon and that all measures were being taken to ensure that people could enjoy the beauty and riches of our nation in safety.<br />
<br />
Cortona is opening up again. The last of our bars and restaurants seem to be set to open their doors to business again this weekend. Our citizens on the whole seem to be complying with safety rules of masks and distancing. It was a nearly "normal" weekend last Saturday and Sunday with bar tables in the piazzas and restaurants nearly full most of the afternoon, many people out for an afternoon stroll and a gelato. People were out enjoying each other's company (with masks on and at a safe distance). In the evening the usual locales offer their happy hour apperitifs to enthusiastic clients, happy to be out again.By day the streets are busy again with shoppers and deliveries as we slowly go back to business as usual (with masks). Casa Chilenne, for now, remains closed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwoR5Vxb3vLaFdFvi_0i3dIj-GLlot3wdC4n0vWxg6wSrzLLHoeLvcn9OmHaPx5sf-f0r06F1uiHRpvjzLDYw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
I look forward to discovering what this new Italy will be, the product of the politicking or will something new and better be born? I guess we can only wait and see.<br />
<br />
As I ponder on this, the matter of fact wisdom of the old barber in Pienza comes to mind. When questioned about his reaction to the number of government changes in Italy, he replied-"We Italians always survive, despite our governments."<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-48870263856568439712020-05-25T15:00:00.003-07:002020-05-27T07:48:05.713-07:00Carlotta<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ngxJdWx358DmknO7r1EyFNhNUGx3IE2mbUri7lKgQ62MuyAzVLj0bQ5dLrOCX0FznanngzNP2luBbdNANc6h3YKDwgE37i5LdbIUNMluiRibu2oZy3BXT9X5SSWvpLWtmVWOSgmH/s1600/IMG_0734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-ngxJdWx358DmknO7r1EyFNhNUGx3IE2mbUri7lKgQ62MuyAzVLj0bQ5dLrOCX0FznanngzNP2luBbdNANc6h3YKDwgE37i5LdbIUNMluiRibu2oZy3BXT9X5SSWvpLWtmVWOSgmH/s320/IMG_0734.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> September 16, 2004- April 27, 2020</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
(Traduzione Italiana in fondo)<br />
<br />
On 27 April 2020, we lost the heart of Casa Chilenne. The speed with which she was ripped from our lives left us numb and broken hearted. She had welcomed guests to Casa Chilenne since we opened our doors to the public in 2008- but she worked behind the scenes as we planned and remodelled the building as well. She accompanied us to all appointments to select materials, to the market to select the fabrics for our bed covers, she kept me company as I spent most of 2007 on site in what was to become Casa Chilenne under restoration. She knew the builders, the electricians, the plumbers, the painters.<br />
<br />
I was never one to see myself as Carlotta's parent, she was my dog and I, her human. She started out as a sort of daring declaration of independance, as I purchased her on a day trip to Florence while accompanying a group of tourists. I was walking along Via dei Servi, on the piece of road which leads from the Accademmia to the Duomo when I saw her pouncing on and trouncing a Yorkshire puppy. From that moment I was smitten. I whipped out my credit card before consulting with Luciano. I arranged to pick up Carlotta on my way back to the bus after freetime, and then started to plan the elaborate plan of breaking the news to Luciano. I had a trip planned to San Francisco in a week's time so my first call was to British Airways to book passage for her. I learned that they do not accept animals in the cabin and was forced to immediately abandon my ticket and rebook us on a Lufthansa flight.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4TNREAfqE_1iwvmP7S7b6kt-kE-HvHykLcgAOgNbFPcxNGfd_Hoo2PNPiKqhnbJSATPJoYty5-H7KradGEZvXLcXYZnbC8tOSItOLtV00fZZAdrX8qmTgy13HvIC1DPQda0qSo4Z/s1600/babycarly.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4TNREAfqE_1iwvmP7S7b6kt-kE-HvHykLcgAOgNbFPcxNGfd_Hoo2PNPiKqhnbJSATPJoYty5-H7KradGEZvXLcXYZnbC8tOSItOLtV00fZZAdrX8qmTgy13HvIC1DPQda0qSo4Z/s320/babycarly.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlotta eating one of her first Greenies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After introducing her to my tour group as we boarded for our trip back to Cortona, I immediately started to figure out how I was going to break the news to my husband. I struggled with different scenarios in my head. When we took the exit from the freeway to the highway and then finally to the state road with Cortona in view, I could no longer put it off . "Hello? Yes, we're on our way home, I need to tell you something..." My husband exercising his clairvoyant skills "What did you buy?"...me, not having courage, as I know he is thinking a handbag or something a little more usual, " Um, nothing, but I'm bringing a puppy, really cute... " Boom! I hear the phone slam down....I re-dial "Don't bring it home!" BOOM! phone slams down again. re-dial followed by a desperate lie-" but my friend Carlo at the leather shop, gave her to me, he couldn't keep it...I can't leave her in the middle of the street" "Don't bring it here! " Boom!<br />
<br />
When my tour group was settled in at the hotel I brought Carlotta home to face the music. I found a sulking husband who refused to talk to me. As I tried to calm, explain, convince, I was met with dead and hostile silence. He would only have to put up with her for the week as we were leaving for San Francisco to visit my family, I explained. Then, if he really didn't want her, I would leave her with my parents. Dead silence. He refused to look at her, he refused to touch her. I arranged a bed for Carlotta next to ours and we retired. Not a word was spoken.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, the next day, Carlotta's charms were just too much to resist and soon Luciano gave her the slightest caress on her nose.- and the rest is history. She came back from her trip to the US- filled with adventures. The most memorable one when she escaped from her carrier on the flight from Frankfurt to Rome and went tearing down the aisle of the plane, The little white streak, slammed to a halt smack dab in front of the flight attendant who had strictly laid down the law when we boarded our flight. She was not to be taken out of her carrier, not even for a drink of water!<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26ZI0K7V66kdmKfGDjyYm_3ugi1Le-NHKGZL5zC0kb6obVvQfDnEnP7VS0INMBK4ARDzj0QHEpHKC2dMqHwMAn5z81yzEyS25IbAku2kP0Lml55f7vXY-Rw2m-cSovRWcfPp86_8t/s1600/Luciano+e+Bibini+a+lavoro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh26ZI0K7V66kdmKfGDjyYm_3ugi1Le-NHKGZL5zC0kb6obVvQfDnEnP7VS0INMBK4ARDzj0QHEpHKC2dMqHwMAn5z81yzEyS25IbAku2kP0Lml55f7vXY-Rw2m-cSovRWcfPp86_8t/s320/Luciano+e+Bibini+a+lavoro.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlotta and Daisy at work with Luciano</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The first year of her life was my last year as a tour director and Carlotta spent most of the summer with Luciano. She would spend afternoons with him in the office. They would ride the elevator up to his office in town hall and she knew exactly where his office was and would run ahead. They would go to their favorite trattoria for lunch and a grilled veal cutlet was ordered and split amongst them.When I returned home from the first trip, I was surprised when I would put her in her bed to turn and find her on our bed. After several attempts to return her to her bed, I fell asleep and found her curled up next to me in the morning. My husband confessed that he had been letting her sleep on the bed.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuuxbY88g9qWfIXZ0_ZSMcoxQllYrM3MTVDoas33uHVs_POIYKGc7Ger0rb796oAr_5iy92i_PdknbMb-hi8DCq5mNjOmxOaTbHtVbSEtvZY-TZ_Z2_-FsbfdxIDiuLkHNX4VUU80/s1600/famiglia+polezzi-wong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuuxbY88g9qWfIXZ0_ZSMcoxQllYrM3MTVDoas33uHVs_POIYKGc7Ger0rb796oAr_5iy92i_PdknbMb-hi8DCq5mNjOmxOaTbHtVbSEtvZY-TZ_Z2_-FsbfdxIDiuLkHNX4VUU80/s320/famiglia+polezzi-wong.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luncheon at Ambrosia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And that was just the beginning of our more than fifteen year adventure with Carlotta. She was our constant companion and incredibly sociable. She would greet all she met and had an amazing memory. She loved the many stuffed animals her friends at the thrift store gave her, she once dragged an English Sheepdog stuffed animal twice her size from the thrift store, down the hill to our apartment by Sant'Agostino Church insisting she do it herself. It joined others in a large basket filled with dozens, each had a name she would recognize if you requested it , she'd retrieve it, From Pinky to Rosina, or Bobby Bau, she would root through the basket till she found it and brought it to us.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIiCnZ71M12t-8Ej2MEY5sdHogHYrBJ0P83luvJ_JMuLPGz2mIWQEwEs57FCh2HjwyM6ZbUlAS1O7Co0hu74xbZvh5kJc6ob6_yIdDWHoOUIcU-k4vPQBOaq6duMbvQPHeqTK18jeH/s1600/patmahony+pic+of+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIiCnZ71M12t-8Ej2MEY5sdHogHYrBJ0P83luvJ_JMuLPGz2mIWQEwEs57FCh2HjwyM6ZbUlAS1O7Co0hu74xbZvh5kJc6ob6_yIdDWHoOUIcU-k4vPQBOaq6duMbvQPHeqTK18jeH/s320/patmahony+pic+of+me.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">picture courtesy of Pat Mahoney</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
She liked most other canines except for a pair of dachshunds who repeatedly bullied her as a puppy. One day she decided she'd had enough and decided to go on the offensive. She would bark as soon as she sensed them coming, outside or even inside if they passed under the window. A survival skill she taught to her daughter Daisy when they started going for walks together.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
There are so many "Carlotta Stories", the day she ran away with Tappo, one of her admirers. She slipped back out after a walk when I stopped to speak with one of the workers while we were restoring the B&B. One of the painters let her back out and I was notified by the local taxi driver Enzo that she had been seen running free in the piazza with Tappo- "Are you sure it was Carlotta?" -"Yes, she was wearing her brown jacket!"<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewpkaluZPRb0djtMs2zFpeRFdCAXddAMscScgGmoDrHG6NJXiv3eaJGSYHp_JstmnphmTN_b7H1jPs3TUN_UNrRhKu54tFArMwguq741TNKeF6XMNYi1VK4stBGoaSqc-iSNFCeik/s1600/Carly+protecting+pups.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="603" data-original-width="401" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewpkaluZPRb0djtMs2zFpeRFdCAXddAMscScgGmoDrHG6NJXiv3eaJGSYHp_JstmnphmTN_b7H1jPs3TUN_UNrRhKu54tFArMwguq741TNKeF6XMNYi1VK4stBGoaSqc-iSNFCeik/s320/Carly+protecting+pups.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlotta and 3 day old pups</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Her biggest gift to us were her puppies. We were thrilled after many attempts to breed her that we'd have a little piece of her to hold on to in the future. When the first two puppies of the four were born breach I felt the gut wrenching fear of what life would be like without her, cursing myself for the selfishness of risking her life. But all went well , the puppies and she thrived and survived, and first her daughter Daisy joined her mother as concierge and recently son, Jake came home to share the duties. The other puppies, Jolie and Lapo live happily in the area and have brought joy to loving families.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_KgMbjocuG5zkeykCLyZpWOSQXq2vfd9UyP3LGFBTHSy7v1a0TpBON7uMDLd3xrA1BDvpUb7sPhpUB5n21yqilwUgo4O7R2s596EnCYbQnpTlFo7XauC1SN2vJGKwjAP5BOz5ZVj/s1600/Carly+and+pups+in+coats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="720" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5_KgMbjocuG5zkeykCLyZpWOSQXq2vfd9UyP3LGFBTHSy7v1a0TpBON7uMDLd3xrA1BDvpUb7sPhpUB5n21yqilwUgo4O7R2s596EnCYbQnpTlFo7XauC1SN2vJGKwjAP5BOz5ZVj/s400/Carly+and+pups+in+coats.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlotta and pups at 1 1/2 months</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOR2m3ALN5O7i0tL2DhQQpJPYQxP4YRpcUCJiDt7ca0v9pCyeOL1FROvKrMlKvsd0NhlbXaRKG4WBWR2-K5OnhYVv3dvPfC27_-qMBaT3mBs2V9uP_5qFffUi73FSVffWLLyp3wtz/s1600/266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOR2m3ALN5O7i0tL2DhQQpJPYQxP4YRpcUCJiDt7ca0v9pCyeOL1FROvKrMlKvsd0NhlbXaRKG4WBWR2-K5OnhYVv3dvPfC27_-qMBaT3mBs2V9uP_5qFffUi73FSVffWLLyp3wtz/s400/266.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carlotta,Daisy and Jake </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU53hQF0osyQvDX4h7Dac5QthW7u-KzvLpmhl7n1nGLYlIR_bzvV8JvHo8SoThR2HybOHZy4VH24j578W6ahUPKETHtsIf_LUxFM2H5pI_vwn_qlBeOhMUmX3M2icmtosdlE4KJIEw/s1600/097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="961" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU53hQF0osyQvDX4h7Dac5QthW7u-KzvLpmhl7n1nGLYlIR_bzvV8JvHo8SoThR2HybOHZy4VH24j578W6ahUPKETHtsIf_LUxFM2H5pI_vwn_qlBeOhMUmX3M2icmtosdlE4KJIEw/s320/097.JPG" width="240" /></a>As I reflect upon this month without Carlotta, I can only think about what a pure expression of love and trust our animals give to us. Carlotta's last 24 hours on this earth were infernal as she suffered through 15 epileptic seizures that last day and night. By the evening she was crying and howling, continuing to pace and trying to relieve her pain by pressing herself into the smallest spaces and crevices she could find. When exhausted she would collapse and doze a few moments before succumbing to yet another seizure. Jake would bark to alert us of the situation and both he and Daisy looked to me with pleading eyes, certain, trusting that I could make things better. They seemed convinced that I would make it better and I wished I could. I wished with all my might that I could be as great a person as they believed I was. Alas, I was not. An emergency visit to her vet, followed up with calls and messages in the night, late night calls to "Uncle Calvin" the vet in San Francisco, nothing could relieve her pain. A great sense of helplessness washed over and engulfed me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tz_iviFqFMw83LCuknRVga8Ee94qn1nSHmykQoCAdZt2v0aHsZQBO3NR4POwKYmSgEEVy8XTy1SHpka9z6ujztC65d1J-dcjYFTnZ1tslaWr7g-O3lq9rDccCHc7rcgXPK4bc9W6/s1600/carly+ashes.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7tz_iviFqFMw83LCuknRVga8Ee94qn1nSHmykQoCAdZt2v0aHsZQBO3NR4POwKYmSgEEVy8XTy1SHpka9z6ujztC65d1J-dcjYFTnZ1tslaWr7g-O3lq9rDccCHc7rcgXPK4bc9W6/s400/carly+ashes.JPG" width="300" /></a><br />
She was my dog, the best expression of trust, loyalty and love that I have encountered and I could only be her human.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Traduzione Italiana (con molto diffetti).<br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Carlotta</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Il 27 aprile 2020, abbiamo perso il cuore di
Casa Chilenne. La velocità con cui è stata strappata dalle nostre vite ci ha
lasciato intorpiditi e con i cuori spezzati. Aveva accolto gli ospiti a Casa
Chilenne da quando abbiamo aperto le nostre porte al pubblico nel 2008, ma ha
lavorato dietro le quinte mentre pianificavamo e ristrutturavamo anche
l'edificio. Ci ha accompagnato a tutti gli appuntamenti per selezionare i
materiali, al mercato per selezionare i tessuti per i nostri copriletti, mi ha
tenuto compagnia mentre trascorrevo gran parte del 2007 sul sito in quella che
sarebbe diventata Casa Chilenne sotto restauro. Conosceva i costruttori, gli
elettricisti, gli idraulici, i pittori. Non sono mai stato uno a vedermi come
genitore di Carlotta, lei era il mio cane e io, il suo essere umano. </span><br />
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Tutto ha iniziato come una sorta di audace dichiarazione di indipendenza, l'ho vista ed acquistata in durante una gita a Firenze accompagnando un gruppo di turisti. Stavo
camminando lungo Via dei Servi, sul pezzo di strada che porta dall'Accademmia
al Duomo quando la vidi balzare e trotterellare un cucciolo di Yorkshire. Da
quel momento sono stato colpito. Immediatemente ho estratto la mia carta di credito prima di
consultare Luciano. Mi sono organizzato per prendere Carlotta mentre tornavo
all'autobus dopo il tempo libero, e poi ho iniziato a pianificare il piano
elaborato di dare notizia a Luciano. Avevo programmato un viaggio a San
Francisco tra una settimana, quindi la mia prima telefonata era alla British
Airways per prenotare un passaggio per lei. Ho imparato che non accettano
animali in cabina e sono stato costretto ad abbandonare immediatamente il mio
biglietto e riprenotarci su un Lufthansa.</span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Dopo averla presentata al mio gruppo di tour
mentre salivamo per il nostro viaggio di ritorno a Cortona, ho subito iniziato
a capire come avrei dato la notizia a mio marito. Ho lottato con diversi
scenari nella mia testa. Quando prendemmo l'uscita dall'autostrada fino alla strada statale e infine alla strada provinciale con Cortona in vista,
non potei più rimandare. "Ciao? Sì, stiamo tornando a casa, devo dirti una
cosa ..." Mio marito usando le sue abilità chiaroveggenti "Che cosa
hai comprato?" ... io, non avendo coraggio, come so che è pensando a una
borsetta o qualcosa di un po 'più normale, "Uhm, niente, ma sto portando
un cucciolo, davvero carino ..." Boom! Sento il telefono sbattere giù ....
Ricompo '"Non portarlo a casa!" BOOM! il telefono si abbatte di
nuovo. ricomposizione seguita da una menzogna disperata- "ma il mio amico
Carlo al negozio di pelletteria, me l'ha data, non poteva tenerlo ... non posso
lasciarla in mezzo alla strada" "Non portalo qui! "Boom! </span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Quando
il mio gruppo si è sistemato in albergo, portai Carlotta a casa per
affrontare la situazione. Ho trovato un marito imbronciato che si è rifiutato di
parlarmi. Mentre cercavo di calmare, spiegare, convincere, mi trovai in un
silenzio assordente ed ostile. Avrebbe dovuto sopportarla solo per la settimana,
tanto stavamo partendo per San Francisco per visitare la mia famiglia, ho
spiegato. Quindi, se davvero non la desiderasse, la lascerei con i miei
genitori. Silenzio di tomba. Si rifiutò di guardarla, si rifiutò di toccarla.
Ho sistemato un letto per Carlotta accanto al nostro e ci siamo ritirati. Non è
stata detta una parola. </span><br />
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span>
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Inutile dire che il pomeriggio dopo,gli incantesimi di
Carlotta erano troppo per resistere e presto Luciano le diede la minima carezza
sul naso. E il resto è storia. La Carlotta è tornata dal suoi viaggi negli Stati Uniti,
piena di avventure. La più memorabile quando si è riuscita a scappare dalla sua
borsa sul volo da Francoforte a Roma e andò a corsa sul corridoio dell'aereo, Una
piccola scheggia bianca che si è frenata a colpo di fronte all’ assistente di
volo, proprio quella che ci aveva rigorosamente comunicati le regole
quando salimmo sul nostro volo. “ E’ Lei quella con il cane?”- “Sì?” “ IL cane non deve essere tirata fuori dal
suo trasportatino per nessuna ragione, nemmeno per un drink d'acqua! Tanto è un
volo corto”</span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span><span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Il primo anno della sua vita è stato il mio
ultimo anno come direttore del tour e Carlotta ha trascorso gran parte
dell'estate con Luciano. Trascorreva dei pomeriggi con lui in ufficio. Salivano
con l'ascensore fino al suo ufficio nel municipio e lei sapeva esattamente dove
si trovava il suo ufficio e correva avanti. Andavano nella loro trattoria
preferita a pranzo e una cotoletta di vitello alla griglia veniva ordinata e
divisa tra loro. Quando sono tornato a casa dal primo viaggio, sono rimasto
sorpreso quando l'ho messa nel suo letto per girarmi e trovarla sul nostro
letto. Dopo diversi tentativi di riportarla nel suo letto, mi sono addormentato
e l'ho trovata rannicchiata accanto a me la mattina. Mio marito ha confessato
che l'aveva lasciata dormire sul letto.</span><br />
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">E quello era solo l'inizio della nostra
avventura di oltre quindici anni con Carlotta. Era la nostra compagna costante
e incredibilmente socievole. Salutava tutti quelli che incontrava e aveva una
memoria incredibile. Amava i tanti animali di peluche che le davano le sue
amiche cel mercatino dell'usato, una volta trascinava un animale di pezza un cane
da pastore inglese due volte più grande dal mercatino, giù per Via Guelfa, fino
al nostro appartamento dalla Chiesa di Sant'Agostino insistendo che lo facesse
da sola. L’ha unito agli altri in un grande cestino pieno di dozzine, ognuno
aveva un nome che avrebbe riconosciuto se lo avessi chiesto, lo avrebbe
recuperato, Da Pinky a Rosina, o Bobby Bau, avrebbe scavato nel cestino fino a
quando non l'avesse trovato per portarlo a noi. </span></div>
<div style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">Il suo più grande regalo per noi erano i suoi cuccioli. Eravamo entusiasti dopo molti tentativi che avremmo avuto un piccolo pezzo di lei a cui aggrapparsi in futuro. Quando i primi due cuccioli dei quattro sono nati in posizione </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">podalica</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;"> ho sentito la paura di come sarebbe stata la vita senza di lei, maledicendomi per l'egoismo di rischiare la sua vita. Ma tutto andò bene, i cuccioli e lei prosperarono e sopravvissero, e prima sua figlia Daisy si affiancò alla sua madre come concierge e di recente figlio, Jake tornò a casa per condividere le doveri. Gli altri cuccioli, Jolie e Lapo vivono felici nella zona e hanno portato gioia alle famiglie amorevoli.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Le piacevano la maggior
parte degli altri cani, ad eccezione di una coppia di bassotti che l'hanno
ripetutamente aggrediti da cucciolo. Un giorno decise di averne avuto
abbastanza e decise di passare all'offensiva. Abbaiava non appena li avvertiva arrivare,
fuori o addirittura dentro se fossero passati sotto la finestra. Un'abilità di
sopravvivenza che ha insegnato a sua figlia Daisy quando hanno iniziato a fare
passeggiate insieme. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: #f8f9fa; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ci sono così tante
"storie di Carlotta", il giorno in cui è fuggita con Tappo, uno dei
suoi ammiratori. È scivolata fuori dopo una passeggiata quando mi sono fermato
a parlare con uno dei lavoratori mentre stavamo restaurando il B&B. Uno dei
pittori la lasciò uscire e fui avvisato dal tassista locale Enzo che era stata
vista correre libero in piazza con Tappo- "Sei sicuro che fosse
Carlotta?" - "Sì, indossava la sua giacca marrone!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Mentre rifletto su questo mese senza Carlotta, posso solo pensare alla pura
espressione di amore e fiducia i nostri animali ci danno. Le ultime 24 ore di
Carlotta su questa terra furono infernali , ha sofferto 15 attacchi epilettici quell'ultimo
giorno e la notte. La sera piangeva e ululava, continuando a camminare e
cercando di alleviare il suo dolore spingendosi negli spazi più piccoli e nelle
fessure che riusciva a trovare. Una volta esaurita, sarebbe crollata e
sonnecchiata qualche istante prima di soccombere a un altro attacco. Jake abbaiava
per avvisarci della situazione e sia lui che Daisy mi guardarono con occhi
supplicanti, certi, fiduciosi che io potessi risolvere la situazione.
Sembravano convinti che l’avrei curata e che avvessi il super potere di farlo.
Desideravo con tutte le mie forze di poter essere una persona eccezionale come
credevano che fossi. Ahimè, non lo ero. Una visita di emergenza dal suo
veterinario, seguita da chiamate e messaggi nella notte, chiamate in tarda notte a "Zio Calvin" il
veterinario a San Francisco, nulla poteva alleviare il suo dolore. Un grande
senso di impotenza mi travolse e mi avvolse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: #F8F9FA; line-height: 27.0pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; tab-stops: 45.8pt 91.6pt 137.4pt 183.2pt 229.0pt 274.8pt 320.6pt 366.4pt 412.2pt 458.0pt 503.8pt 549.6pt 595.4pt 641.2pt 687.0pt 732.8pt;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.0pt;">Era il mio cane, la migliore espressione di fiducia, lealtà e amore che ho
incontrato e potevo solo essere il suo essere umano.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-6491532207929147382017-11-19T02:15:00.000-08:002017-11-19T02:15:05.843-08:00Hungry Hearts<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdqTGVw4auhmZn3t5ZyzyDk-j3BIKTRodJYM82sqDY0wE3EF-KWSoD24dvFF_G6jtz0YXLHdPVVSiyl6tfgO5VQa0qOjCA8z2g1jmakwlBmf-AUMNVj8-Yjd7daeHHIx1XZs5KGZL/s1600/naughty+carlotta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="628" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHdqTGVw4auhmZn3t5ZyzyDk-j3BIKTRodJYM82sqDY0wE3EF-KWSoD24dvFF_G6jtz0YXLHdPVVSiyl6tfgO5VQa0qOjCA8z2g1jmakwlBmf-AUMNVj8-Yjd7daeHHIx1XZs5KGZL/s320/naughty+carlotta.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
As the holidays, especially Thanksgiving arrives, we are excited to usher in a season of caring and giving . It is so easy to get lost in the bustle and worries, the little stuff.<br />
It became clear to me yesterday in an unexpected way, that we should always be mindful of giving true hospitality at Casa Chilenne.<br />
Cortona has become a special place to so many people not just because of the sites, but because of their experiences here with the people they've met. We are a small community, still willing to take a moment to welcome another into our fold, especially when one enters with the same love and appreciation of our little paradise. We unexpectedly loss a person who had been a guest in our home multiple times. He came back always happy and astounded to find his place waiting for him. Pleasantly surprised when the fruit vendor remembered him, or the tobacco shop owner said hello, or that the family at the coffee bar were happy to greet him and welcome him back as he proudly modelled the shirt they'd sent him. I truly believe that it was this feeling of community and friendship that brought this man back to us again and again. The world can become a lonely place, even in a crowd if we lose our sense of caring for our fellow citizens of this earth, if we stop taking the time to engage and reach out.<br />
<br />
This holiday season and always, we will strive to make everyone feel welcome at our table - and we feel blessed to be able to share this beautiful place with others.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLaddiNiVp4GSF4Nbo0SQBtG2jTL8WDI_x7C2TmAzMip0VmxU_1OkX71LQSPz9jN7he3Hq0jw6OYFe0WW93I887HxROXss3RRn4ocxLBudKLpdZ9GQBGeklPO2QLYhfN-x0zUqO2F/s1600/IMG_0411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsLaddiNiVp4GSF4Nbo0SQBtG2jTL8WDI_x7C2TmAzMip0VmxU_1OkX71LQSPz9jN7he3Hq0jw6OYFe0WW93I887HxROXss3RRn4ocxLBudKLpdZ9GQBGeklPO2QLYhfN-x0zUqO2F/s320/IMG_0411.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-22967689094583713732017-04-09T06:28:00.000-07:002017-04-09T12:49:22.835-07:00The Real Price of WarI thank Carlotta and Daisy again for conceding a place on their blog for me to continue to recount the experiences shared with me by survivors of WWII on Italian soil.<br />
<br />
As mentioned in my previous blog entry, after the armistice day of September 8, 1943, the Italian people were left an occupied nation under the martial law of their former allies, the Germans and without the leadership of their king who has taken refuge in the Allied nations controlled areas of Brindisi. Food was scarse, especially in the cities. City dwellers who had the possibility sent their children to country relatives, with hope that it would be safer from bombings and they would escape starvation. From September 8, 1943 they waited to be liberated. While they waited, the German forces in Italy now struggled to fight a war against the allies and at the same time control a vast occupied area. The Germans gave orders for all Italians to hand in their arms and made a declaration that 10 Italians would be executed for every German life loss to partisan rebellion. The Allies struggled to capture the peninsola as well. Although their landings in Sicily and Salerno were quite rapid and successful, the landings in Anzio and Nettuno proved to be a bit more difficult. Especially challenging was the capture of the Benedictine monastary of Montecassino which had become the stopping point northward . Bombings by the Allies to target railways, suspected German headquarters and other strategic points became common and extensive. Around Montecassino entire villages are reduced to rubble. Cortona escaped this level of destruction, and the reasons given are fascinating.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud0zcAaIwChzPtoSC50RBTiUV0zuujxYnoOfLTosY4OKB__LT5eYNXQPOi7qzbhyEJSv9Ew7ZMPQbcuPPVX6us_5MTtdH5cenAKE4zT2trAcijvM5kyS8ctzwN2QD-gCuhdQZExq2/s1600/cortona.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiud0zcAaIwChzPtoSC50RBTiUV0zuujxYnoOfLTosY4OKB__LT5eYNXQPOi7qzbhyEJSv9Ew7ZMPQbcuPPVX6us_5MTtdH5cenAKE4zT2trAcijvM5kyS8ctzwN2QD-gCuhdQZExq2/s640/cortona.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Cortona from Camucia, foreground area is that of the railway station</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
There are some who say that Cortona, although on the top of the hill, was not bombed because it was not of any strategic importance ; by the time the Allies had pushed that far north the Germans were already retreating. This is not to say that the area was spared bombing. The Allies strived to disrupt transportation lines and roads and the train station in Camucia was bombed at least twice. The grandparents of a colleague of mine who lived by the station rebuilt their house from the rubble only to have it again destroyed- leaving them the task of rebuilding once more.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9j6yfMrRFcPxzVp8ySFp2hnE0UXXIPLaaXeEheEbYwRSNoXirA_S_sXe7EMdcsk1LhsiCmom8y71rgZW5LY1lrZMPiBbKUe-M0LSjrGQ9cM7KOQHGQcwt-GHBugO6AtZnrWTjJOU/s1600/IMG_1235%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9j6yfMrRFcPxzVp8ySFp2hnE0UXXIPLaaXeEheEbYwRSNoXirA_S_sXe7EMdcsk1LhsiCmom8y71rgZW5LY1lrZMPiBbKUe-M0LSjrGQ9cM7KOQHGQcwt-GHBugO6AtZnrWTjJOU/s320/IMG_1235%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statue of Santa Margherita</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Others claim that orders had been given one day to bomb the upper part of the city by the fortress on a morning that a cold fog was shrouding the city at the planned time of attack. A Brit expat I knew, Martin Attwood, claims that the British pilot given the mission to bomb the city was about to drop his warheads on the city when suddenly the fog lifted and he saw the beauty of the architecture below him, which made him decide to continue flying further into the wooded side of the mountain and release his load there. Supposedly this story was brought back to the city post war when Martin met the pilot during a post war visit to the city as a tourist. He wanted to see upclose the city he had decided not to bomb.<br />
<br />
There are other versions of this story that credit the patron Santa Margherita with an appearance or at least with causing the miracle which caused the fog to abruptly rise, but I did not have the fortune of collecting this story first hand so I will leave it at that.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6Y4bEo9LthCGi-LzgIFfIKi-R0t-dNr9PZo_Ah82xb8IN8cuCxF2J4CvgAuTENsQvKTcbF6rflTr-aKORwcp-4jj6j7revgWA_1BxniPSDRk6yewDL4gnuVLUXfz-VxYDQgJL6pd/s1600/IMG_1234%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6Y4bEo9LthCGi-LzgIFfIKi-R0t-dNr9PZo_Ah82xb8IN8cuCxF2J4CvgAuTENsQvKTcbF6rflTr-aKORwcp-4jj6j7revgWA_1BxniPSDRk6yewDL4gnuVLUXfz-VxYDQgJL6pd/s320/IMG_1234%255B1%255D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Placard on the first pillar of the cathedral describing the strange event of July 3, 1944.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
There is a well documented testimony of intervention by the patron saint which is engraved on a stone affixed to the outer wall of the town Duomo (cathedral). The inscription describes an event during a bombing on the morning of July 3, 1944.when a large mass was launched by an explosion toward the façade of the church. According to witnesses as the boulder fell into the line of the vision of the statue of the saint facing the church it shattered in to many small stones which rained down into the clearing in front saving the building from serious damage.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkhCOlccmupYJyZAVrELtvJSxanGr0-lhA1vefI7Gl58AuZ5LycT5S9XeJbHw8K8fFkDFSkMkXQiC_aT6tIZ6WvHjTnE8SfcyagWnMEOEUQ5K1bBUdbYwnV3JjKfGcKTI1dqHtGxH/s1600/IMG_1232%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnkhCOlccmupYJyZAVrELtvJSxanGr0-lhA1vefI7Gl58AuZ5LycT5S9XeJbHw8K8fFkDFSkMkXQiC_aT6tIZ6WvHjTnE8SfcyagWnMEOEUQ5K1bBUdbYwnV3JjKfGcKTI1dqHtGxH/s640/IMG_1232%255B1%255D.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa Margherita watching over the Piazza del Duomo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Besides the intervening hand of Cortona's patron saint, there are figures in the local clergy at the time who were credited with insuring the safety for the city. Many of the German officers who were assigned to Italy were men of privileged background. Many had studied abroad and many in religious based institutions. Many of them were familiar with the historical treasures to be found in Italy. The officer assigned to Cortona knew the "Annunciation" a 1436 painting by Fra' Angelico very well. It is a painting which is considered to be a pivotal piece in western art history bridging medieval and renaissance painting styles. During the years that Cortona was under the command of this officer, it is said that there were negotiations made between the parish priest and the officer. The officer admired this painting very much and would have very much liked to somehow acquire it. The priest was coy and used it like a carrot to guarantee a bit more leniency in enforcing the martial law and a promise that should time come for them to pull out of the city they would do so without resistance that would cause tragedy.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8M50QXTtY4PLFubfahcvXuzyjBnF5vA-HVFyBtL3e3aLgPvkxW-0pI7UcKHWUioajF7qf1d7SAxX1xEx29iHCFS4aY5PzuvOfk-vKFo-B7HPomEusILCb8EBS-0cexKh3LsLhYNMl/s1600/diocesano-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8M50QXTtY4PLFubfahcvXuzyjBnF5vA-HVFyBtL3e3aLgPvkxW-0pI7UcKHWUioajF7qf1d7SAxX1xEx29iHCFS4aY5PzuvOfk-vKFo-B7HPomEusILCb8EBS-0cexKh3LsLhYNMl/s320/diocesano-01.jpg" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Altar piece "The Annuciation" by Fra'Angelico 1436 in the collection of the Museo Diocesano</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is not to say that the people of Cortona escaped the violence of war at the hands of the German soldiers. The threat of 10 civilian lives for every German soldier killed by Italians hung over their heads. In the mountain community of Falzano above Cortona, at the end of June 1944, the partisans had attacked some of the German patrols in the area. In retaliation twelve random Italians, including women and children were captured and imprisoned in a barn which was then set on fire. The next morning the solidiers returned to the smoldering scene and finished off the survivors with their guns. One adolescent boy was sheltered from the fire by a fallen beam and survived by playing dead amongst the bodies. Badly burned, he survived and has re-told the take if his misadventure at war crime hearings and most recently at ceremonies to remember the martyrs.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca2jMSvI_Ne9LS_OJNEOZaP16fnaxRaS-E8byHKZsYPRcmKFV87T29tP_gHEfp8WMCU0BH6HR6yCcsXmVpkWKB-iSH8ExjDJIGVH1zuF_cADMJbx5UxJf9Vnaj59HOAB1wGyWI8aL/s1600/renato+mariotti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjca2jMSvI_Ne9LS_OJNEOZaP16fnaxRaS-E8byHKZsYPRcmKFV87T29tP_gHEfp8WMCU0BH6HR6yCcsXmVpkWKB-iSH8ExjDJIGVH1zuF_cADMJbx5UxJf9Vnaj59HOAB1wGyWI8aL/s320/renato+mariotti.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Renato Mariotti, Cortonese survivor of Mauthausen (1922-2015)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another haunting testimony was documented for future generations from a Cortonese survivor of the Mauthausen concentration camp, Renato Mariotti. The 8th of September 1943 was for most, a great day of confusion, thought to signify the end of the war. Renato was a sailor and in the middle of the sea near Yugoslavia. The crew decided to plot a course home to Italy and docked at Fano from where Mariotti then travelled on foot to Arezzo then home to Cortona. When he arrived home, he discovered that he was considered to be a deserter and summoned to the Carabinieri station. He was told that he would have to report back to the Navy. He asked to be given the chance to report on his own and left for Florence to meet with his brother Francesco and find a way for them to escape together. They were both arrested in Florence by the SS, and subsequently transferred to the death camp in Austria. Francesco upon arrival understood exactly where they were and what his fate would be. Renato miraculously survived in the camps for 14 months and lived to return to Cortona. Only now, after his passing have I listened to the interviews he left behind detailing the horrors he experienced, and 70 years later his incredule recounting of the extreme acts of cruelty which could be inflicted by one human being against another. Before I knew of his past I had seen and cordially greeted this man in the square. I always found him to be gentle and kind, never suspecting the hell he had endured. A hell he chose out of love for his brother. Renato's documents would have allowed him to be released in Florence by the SS, but he asked to stay and accompany his brother in his fate.<br />
<br />
<br />
The other day, my good friend Lyndall Passerini, widow of the Count Lorenzo Passerini, came to visit and we discussed the memories her husband had shared about the times of occupied Cortona. The Palazzone is the imposing 15th century castle built by the Cardinal Silvio Passerini and residence to the noble family. It was at the time of the war inhabited by the dowager countess and first occupied by the Italian troops, then the Germans and ultimately Indian soldiers from the British troops during the period of the war.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_YNsv3qYFb8uZ4yOshjXbtrh9LtrH30UGuoE4TFmDvFNxEtXahoQ9QimNr0PP3Zf0KhZOP2j2Uk3AWPyuFGdbuqlhi8_fIa53jDHBIca1CnjCOyExXWD9ui2vi3LX1RoSzbeiPjr/s1600/il-palazzone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_YNsv3qYFb8uZ4yOshjXbtrh9LtrH30UGuoE4TFmDvFNxEtXahoQ9QimNr0PP3Zf0KhZOP2j2Uk3AWPyuFGdbuqlhi8_fIa53jDHBIca1CnjCOyExXWD9ui2vi3LX1RoSzbeiPjr/s320/il-palazzone.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Palazzone from the road below it</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
According to accounts of her husband, the Contessa was able to command the "guests" that there was to be silence after 10 pm and that the chickens belonging to the 14 or so families in residence at the palace were not to be disturbed, Her wishes were mostly respected up until the end of the German occupation. As the German soldiers prepared for their retreat they attempted to requisition as many oxcarts from the farmers as they could to load them up with supplies of cheeses and wine, meats and oil as they escaped. Though previously respectful of their surroundings, some of the soldiers, perhaps those who recognized their value, lopped off the sculpted heads from the Etruscan funerary urns in the courtyard of the palace to take home as souvenirs in their packs.<br />
<br />
What they did not know is that the great white Chianina oxen are trained to pull the carts in teams, one always on the right and one always on the left. In order to hinder their escape, the farmers consigned their ox and carts as ordered but with the oxen hooked up the wrong way. The poor beasts took a beating but were unable to move forward and we are told that out of frustration and revenge a small child was thrown out a window of the palazzo.<br />
<br />
There were 43 Cortonese who lost there lives at the hands of their former allies during the occupation. Too many for sure but, fewer than some of their more unfortunate neighbors.<br />
<br />
In Montelpulciano where the partisan movement was especially strong they remember over 50 martyrs hanged from the walls in retaliation for attacks on German soldiers.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQOTN1QFhdRIVnlPDBP1cp6sh9lQo6X7RTPm_GDQS51a7nCNtXwKH7n0uCF0pBA5naqCY25Yzuz02bxdNkaQIUajkddIi8JVHf8KuqRvIBVsWV8yHRHWh_HJn1f0hu3pnHZFAbuxv/s1600/IMG_5537+Retro+del+Duomo+di+Pienza-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyQOTN1QFhdRIVnlPDBP1cp6sh9lQo6X7RTPm_GDQS51a7nCNtXwKH7n0uCF0pBA5naqCY25Yzuz02bxdNkaQIUajkddIi8JVHf8KuqRvIBVsWV8yHRHWh_HJn1f0hu3pnHZFAbuxv/s320/IMG_5537+Retro+del+Duomo+di+Pienza-1.JPG" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the war scarred posterior of the Duomo of Pienza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWyUb5H6fsSlQw7MrhZzFLqGgzfkn53m4laTLluU0zfJvxE4sIxk85bpR7CAr1EFfj-Jiaacr5hYdCsw-UocDikGsv2KlBboZypLaqd5oGdfvlEwR301wjoqTjGr8wgEXjHlii2w8/s1600/IMG_5537+Retro+del+Duomo+di+Pienza-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWyUb5H6fsSlQw7MrhZzFLqGgzfkn53m4laTLluU0zfJvxE4sIxk85bpR7CAr1EFfj-Jiaacr5hYdCsw-UocDikGsv2KlBboZypLaqd5oGdfvlEwR301wjoqTjGr8wgEXjHlii2w8/s1600/IMG_5537+Retro+del+Duomo+di+Pienza-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWyUb5H6fsSlQw7MrhZzFLqGgzfkn53m4laTLluU0zfJvxE4sIxk85bpR7CAr1EFfj-Jiaacr5hYdCsw-UocDikGsv2KlBboZypLaqd5oGdfvlEwR301wjoqTjGr8wgEXjHlii2w8/s1600/IMG_5537+Retro+del+Duomo+di+Pienza-1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span style="color: black;">While working in Pienza as a tour director our group stayed in a hotel next to the Carabinieri station which had an eagle carved on the façade. I realized after time that it was the remains of the symbol of the Nazi movement and that the swastika had been removed from the eagles claws after the war and the building taken over by the Carabinieri. I also learned the story of Elisa Ciolfi. The allies knew that Pienza had an important German headquarters and therefore, the town was a frequent target of bombings. If one goes to visit it today, the entrance to the city has a new gate and upon entering it, there are new buildings within the old city. The cathedral façade still shows the scars and pock marks left behind by gunfire and schrapnel. But Elisa's story is that which remains deeply embedded in my mind as the tragic price of a war.During an air raid, Elisa Ciolfi was with a friend who had a bedridden, infirm daughter . The two women heard the sirens but could not move the girl to shelter. To reassure and comfort her friend, Elisa told her not to worry they would wait together for the air raid alarms to end. Unfortunately it ended their lives. The street next to my hotel was called Via Elisa Ciolfi and the location of the houses that were bombed.</span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black;"> I</span><span style="color: black;">n Civitella della Valdichiana and the surrounding farming area one of the most terrifying massacres of civilians at the hands of German soldiers took place. 244 lives were taken in 1 day, the 29th of June 1944 in retaliation for the death of 4 German soldiers on the 18th of June at the hands of partisans. Unable to get the local people to collaborate and single out the culprits, the order was given that Sunday morning for three squads to enter homes and shoot on sight. During the celebration of mass at the Cathedral of Civitella, troops broke into the church and killed 155 people, including the parish priest.</span><br />
<br />
As the 25th of April Liberation Day holiday grows nearer, I want to remember what the true meaning of that day was for the people who lived it. These were the dark days that proceeded it. They were days that left one to wonder where and if humanity existed and if the world could ever be the same again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-62492164682332841602017-03-26T23:32:00.000-07:002017-03-27T03:55:20.973-07:00The Road to Freedom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy2f_skYGLVbVj7j7ci4meYluVu54H8aniEAeY1j3yW2m78kWc51r-wawe3SEFweE5FNEgVuDr7jBCwXZ5VGQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
The 25th of April 1945 is the official Liberation Day holiday at the end of World War II. In the past we have published pictures of the cermonies of rememberance of this day which is special in Cortona because it is also the day of liberation in 1261 of Cortona from the control of Arezzo (that nasty neighbor and now head of the province down the road), thus making Saint Mark the patron saint of the city because the 25th of April is his feast day. Those who have followed our earlier posts may remember this.<br />
<br />
Last week, I (Jeanette, not Carlotta), had the honor and opportunity to accompany a group of travellers from California to trace events of the Italian campaign of the allied forces in World War II as they fought for control of the country after the King of Italy had signed the armistice agreement with the allies then fled first to Brindisi and then left Italy for Portugal. Over the years, after living in a land which survived years of modern warfare on their home soil, I've collected many stories from people who lived during this tragic time and were willing to share them. To give more meaning this year to that long awaited day of April 25, 1945, I feel that it is befitting to share some of these accounts. They were dark times, but I strongly feel that we must remember to really appreciate the value of peace, of diplomacy, of giving a value to human life. I share these stories which were passed on to me as an oral history and write them down here as they were told to me.<br />
<br />
<br />
What are We Fighting For?<br />
<br />
With the announcement on September 8, 1943 that the King of Savoy had signed the Armisitice with the allies and fled to Brindisi, the people of Italy were already starved and strained from the tolls of the war since they entered as part of the Axis with Germany and Japan back in October of 1941, Italy and it's people were now in German occupied territory.<br />
According to my father in law, Oberdan, now 101 years old, he knew on that day he would not fare well as an Italian soldier stationed in Bologna, so he immediately donned his civilian clothes disposed of his uniform and made his way back to Cortona by hitchhiking and walking. His fear was being stopped and captured to be shipped to prisoner and concentration camps in the north.<br />
<br />
Oberdan grew up in San Martino, a small village below the hill of Cortona, his family (especially his mother) wanted to insure him a good education and position in the community and sent him to study in the seminary in Cortona. After he ran away twice, to return home on foot, they gave up on that dream. In the thirties the family was fairly well off with land, but there were few jobs to be had. So Oberdan enrolled in the army and participated in the Libyan campaign in the calvary division. When war was declared he was 25 and had returned to civilian life. He was working as a postal clerk when he was recalled to arms. He was considered an "older" veteran soldier and sent to Bologna to work with the military post.<br />
<br />
My mother in law Margherita had grown up in Cortona and met Oberdan while working together at the post office there before the war. In the days following the armistice she saw the post office invaded by german soldiers, a bomb planted and the telegraph destroyed to avoid any communications going out. The postal workers were sent home - she returned to the family farm where she lived with her in-laws in San Martino to wait and hope for Oberdan's safe return.<br />
<br />
The family farm was large and had orchards, gardens. They raised chickens, ducks, geese, pigs, a few cows and cattle, and horses. When the war began, the Germans had taken over the farm to become their cooking kitchens. The food supplies were prepared then sent to the soldiers fighting afield, many in Montecassino. In times of peace, the running and managment of a subsistance farm in the tuscan countryside was very different than the way that the german soldiers managed the resources. A single pig was utilized by the italians from head to tail, quite literally using everything but the squeal. In these times of war, Margherita remembered the great hunger suffered by the family and tenent farmers as animals were quickly slaughtered and only the prime cuts used by the germans whilst the rest which could have fed many, were discarded to rot, no one dared to take them back after they'd been seized by the soldiers.<br />
<br />
My husband Luciano's grandmother, Pia, was not one who was to take this all in stride. One day exasperated as two of her chickens were being carried off, one in each beefy hand of an enormous German soldier, she sprang upon him from the back her hands gripping his neck crying " And what are we supposed to eat ? La merda?!" Pia was a small woman who did not stand 5 feet tall and her protest was met with amusement by the soldier and his companions as he walked away with his spoils and Nonna Pia clinging to his back. And so she plotted a more subtle revenge.<br />
I lived with my in-laws for 5 years, I was shocked one day as Margherita pulled out a large tin box, as she looked for a good strong spoon to feed the dogs with. The box was filled with stainless steel cutlery all with engraved eagles clutching swastikas on the handles. Nonna Pia had decided that if they were to take her goods, she would collect her own payment and when she had a chance would pilfer their cutlery.<br />
<br />
When Oberdan made it home from Bologna a little less than a week after the armistice, the county was now under the martial law of their former allies. It was ordered that all citizens surrender their arms and as penalty for any German life loss to attack by the indigenous people, 10 Italian lives would be taken (woman and children included). Oberdan's youngest brother Betto, who was 17 at the time had been sent with a sack of weapons to be hidden in the mountains to avoid the sequester. The loss of weapons meant a loss of a means of procuring food by hunting, they were too precious to surrender. While on his way, sack slung over his shoulder, he was stopped by a German patrol. Overcome with panic Betto, drew out the pistol he had been given to protect himself and shot one of the soldiers, wounding him, and fled for the hills leaving the precious sack behind.<br />
<br />
In the middle of the night, shortly after Betto's escape, my in-laws and all their family were dragged out of bed and out of their house. For Margherita, time seemed endless as they were questioned about the shooting incident. They looked over Oberdan, there was some resemblence but obviously, Betto was much younger. Margherita was sure they would all die that night- but unlike many others, they were spared.<br />
<br />
<br />
So many had followed Mussolini into believing that they would create a great Empire again, become that great power. Subsidies handed out to agricultural families and prizes for the birth of more children eased poverty and won him much popularity. Promises that government would be efficient and trains would run on time, a model of modern efficiency in architecture and organization appealed to the fantasy of a powerful future. They had been lulled into believing that joining the war axis with the Germans was the best choice, They had an up-close view of the strength of their neighbors over the border and had been promised a quick victory. Now they were a hungry, occupied nation, fearing for their lives and hoping for the arrival of liberation.<br />
<br />
Oberdan's father, Agosto, reserved wine in his cellar for the English who he hoped would come to save them.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-20518452290320861562017-03-08T01:13:00.000-08:002017-03-09T00:41:10.631-08:00Up on the Roof<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHRwQ8hZ7fTf-XeLFgdRA5hkOFsdgzGNvCuz1q_Y3hneWzm5EazVlLBGMy2CmF0Ts1vd7LbbjldiHTnt9gnxlLQOGDgCxvw0gXMOo9qVKa-6-wFTTAqIEV6f2FG0YG2hGINw4cDio/s1600/terrazza2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHRwQ8hZ7fTf-XeLFgdRA5hkOFsdgzGNvCuz1q_Y3hneWzm5EazVlLBGMy2CmF0Ts1vd7LbbjldiHTnt9gnxlLQOGDgCxvw0gXMOo9qVKa-6-wFTTAqIEV6f2FG0YG2hGINw4cDio/s320/terrazza2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
A place that is well loved by our guests is our roof terrace. In the midst of our city we thought it would be nice to have a green spot to sit and enjoy the sunset or sunrise, the company of others with a coffee, tea or glass of wine. Many enjoy having the bird's eye view of the Via Nazionale as strollers and parades pass by.<br />
As you may know, Jeanette loves cooking and having some fresh herbs on hand so you will find rosemary, thyme, sage, lavender, basil in the summer, and whatever can escape her hopelessly brown thumb. Some guests have found this great for brewing their own infusions and tisanes, or add a few leaves to sandwiches or salads. We're also excited that it can help support honeybees and butterflies and hopefully sustain our fragile ecosystem. It seems like a win-win to us.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zX82xuWTekqzUFBmZDrbYWHqHva1o-ZfTkDRDiknwxSb1sStQO-I5tCFal2eAM95175JUjZrfIouDCgMl61rL_UZHrAhuZrlygo7eLjb13STinLGi82Zy2ipeVWyUnj-Nj5W06Yh/s1600/terrace+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_zX82xuWTekqzUFBmZDrbYWHqHva1o-ZfTkDRDiknwxSb1sStQO-I5tCFal2eAM95175JUjZrfIouDCgMl61rL_UZHrAhuZrlygo7eLjb13STinLGi82Zy2ipeVWyUnj-Nj5W06Yh/s320/terrace+2.JPG" width="320" /></a>One of the challenges of running Casa Chilenne with the services and amenities we offer is keeping our energy costs down, Our five rooms with air conditioning, mini-bars , televisions, kitchens with ovens, refrigerators, dishwashers, washing machines, not to mention all our lights, leave a gigantic carbon footprint. We've decided this year to make a change which we hope will enable us to keep offering the same services at the same prices, and also reduce the impact that excess energy consumption has on our budget and the planet. Our well-reknown neighborhood electrician, Giulio Moretti and assistant Simone are back again. This time for more than maintenance after our year and a half restoration project here. We are converting all of our illumination to LED! We've been happy with the quality of light that these light sources can now produce (warm and inviting, contrary to some of the earlier versions) so we are very excited about this change. We are hoping we have found another win-win situation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZRohwNh57PLGV7b5RN7rSrVmjWMjflyjK1yR8uVk3FX3Gf4OFBdE7Vkxp1K33DoKTkWfoNW9bTFiPCvVDwer8YutN2YG7LC3yIpd3HKhTC_-fV4qTv6XhNFjEKPuL1QY7E4t3Cbn/s1600/IMG_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCqGYlnSBX12CqmzqIh7kinaJsVt3K5o4Hpy2dX2uENRa7KqCjS4FtP4PpvCLn2THMp_RAO4EinYFPoJ4eaw_KE3a04ar1RjdQp5TT8pm_JvmN-MWLJhtmXrFEQmNzpoaEc7zMMkb/s1600/IMG_1100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSCqGYlnSBX12CqmzqIh7kinaJsVt3K5o4Hpy2dX2uENRa7KqCjS4FtP4PpvCLn2THMp_RAO4EinYFPoJ4eaw_KE3a04ar1RjdQp5TT8pm_JvmN-MWLJhtmXrFEQmNzpoaEc7zMMkb/s320/IMG_1100.JPG" width="240" /></a>The next project hopefully for 2018, will be creating a shade structure for the roof terrace and finally repaving to correct the pitch!. It faces south so enjoys full sun all day. Not so great in the summer but the star jasmine and roses seem to be more forgiving than previous victims. We have enlisted the experience of a garden consultant, Francesco, who we have known since he was but a bambino. With his help, We may venture into a little roof top victory garden- will heirloom cherry tomatoes or tuscan round zucchini escape Jeanette's touch of doom? The proof will come in the zucchini bread.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXIRLwz0SLDyAR8YqWPuKbJBeOadvNJu5STZAabpeE6CBuK8LX559omgayX_Y_PWdqd6ELGJN8OtW84WS_RsQ2dwi_ROe-HF1CBu9cJZQClp1lmaO4MkR4YJCoeh09HNKyaMYRRoEL/s1600/IMG_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXIRLwz0SLDyAR8YqWPuKbJBeOadvNJu5STZAabpeE6CBuK8LX559omgayX_Y_PWdqd6ELGJN8OtW84WS_RsQ2dwi_ROe-HF1CBu9cJZQClp1lmaO4MkR4YJCoeh09HNKyaMYRRoEL/s640/IMG_1101.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZRohwNh57PLGV7b5RN7rSrVmjWMjflyjK1yR8uVk3FX3Gf4OFBdE7Vkxp1K33DoKTkWfoNW9bTFiPCvVDwer8YutN2YG7LC3yIpd3HKhTC_-fV4qTv6XhNFjEKPuL1QY7E4t3Cbn/s1600/IMG_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZRohwNh57PLGV7b5RN7rSrVmjWMjflyjK1yR8uVk3FX3Gf4OFBdE7Vkxp1K33DoKTkWfoNW9bTFiPCvVDwer8YutN2YG7LC3yIpd3HKhTC_-fV4qTv6XhNFjEKPuL1QY7E4t3Cbn/s1600/IMG_1101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-75685124402633937192015-05-15T14:35:00.001-07:002015-05-24T10:51:57.351-07:00Wake Up Everybody<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KzLaR65IWWDjABdmgvH2nvABREjeELWlSd5SfJubWcn1wLpnzftusgapOz9sCjMvNDYUCpjP83Oxo57v85_srJa2_3zVfV5jC_rzX3emANl2eWQUll3fkCQbfuE3R87SDwFls1MH/s1600/archidado+bimbi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KzLaR65IWWDjABdmgvH2nvABREjeELWlSd5SfJubWcn1wLpnzftusgapOz9sCjMvNDYUCpjP83Oxo57v85_srJa2_3zVfV5jC_rzX3emANl2eWQUll3fkCQbfuE3R87SDwFls1MH/s320/archidado+bimbi.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Cortona has put on her party dress- the quintieri streets lined with each neighborhoods colorful banners, and on Via Nazionale, daisy wreaths adorn the arches of the vicoli. Easter has past as well as the 25th April Liberation Day/Saint Mark's feast day. The May 1st holiday is upon us and everyone in Cortona seems ready for La Bella Stagione to begin.Santa Margherita's feast day will be celebrated this weekend with the first of the re-enactment of the ceremony and fanfare associated with the Salimbeni-Casali wedding of the 1300's.<br />
<br />
Le Rondine (swifts and swallows) have returned and the trees and fields are filled with blooms. The weather is temperamental as can be expected. Leading all to speculate on the fate of the oil crop this year, after a dismal disappointment in last year's harvest. There is also speculation about the return of visitors as well.<br />
<br />
There is an atmosphere of anticipation, "How are your reservations?" "When are the tourists coming?" "Do you think it's going to be a good year this year?" These are common questions we hear from some of our friends and neighbors in town. Some are, of course, interested because their livelihood is entwined with the arrival of visitors. Others however look forward to the new life that arrives with people from the world outside the walls. Our pensioners fill the benches in the Piazza della Repubblica where they have front row seats to a stimulating, ever changing show. The romantic weddings on town hall steps, the guided tours which stop to take in the beauty and monuments of il Comune- and the Loggia above, the rambunctious groups of scholars visiting Cortona for a field trip are all parts of the theater of life in the piazza. A source of pride for the residents as they watch the reactions of visitors to the beauty of their hometown, as the tourists make happy memories of Cortona which plants seeds of the same pride and kinship in the hearts of visitors to the town.Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-18212144282626285552014-12-02T01:35:00.001-08:002014-12-03T23:07:55.684-08:00The Gifts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqro3kjIlzOP3VotiQWronqyJ4h1FkI3Sv-y6C-FBCzI8BBBj2M8YChoQceS4j38GsmdV_pxiZ4gWQEi8j3lEb3DQAgJDW8d_onnxdYp1nzJcM_pJjw9uD4T-OJujRQ5wfYV7j48_/s1600/P1020065.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqro3kjIlzOP3VotiQWronqyJ4h1FkI3Sv-y6C-FBCzI8BBBj2M8YChoQceS4j38GsmdV_pxiZ4gWQEi8j3lEb3DQAgJDW8d_onnxdYp1nzJcM_pJjw9uD4T-OJujRQ5wfYV7j48_/s1600/P1020065.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
There are people who touch our lives who unknowingly make us better people, just by being themselves. My first legitimate job while living in Cortona was working for a rather eccentric, yet brilliant Bavarian in a highly experimental and avant-garde language learning center, tucked away in an alley off the Via Nazionale. Working with theories researched by his Canadian/Brit business partner and fueled by rivers of Ballantine's- they gathered together a group of ex-pats from all over the world to help them fulfill their dream of creating super-learning, accellerated language courses. To a certain degree they were successful to those ends, but most successful was the gathering of a community of world citizens together who brought with them the essence of their countries, their experiences and made for an interesting, stimulating and exciting workplace.<br />
<div>
There are many stories to be told from this time of my life, but the story I want to tell now is a story tied to this season of giving and a wonderful man called Bill I met while working at Alpha Centre International.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Bill was a native northern Californian like myself and I took an immediate liking to him when he came to interview with my colleague Donatella and me. He was living in Florence, studying the language. He came from a family of cattle ranchers and though not super tall, he was the epitome of a clean-cut all-American boy, blond and well dressed, the only nod to his origins were a peek of cowboy boots from the hem of his neat gray, well-cut jeans. It was the late 1980's, so it was also an appropriate nod to fashion. After we hired him mainly as a teacher, a quick friendship grew between us and I'd taken to calling him Buffalo.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He was a joy to work with, always positive, and took to his role as an English teacher with great verve. He would travel to our schools in Germany as well and was well liked and received by his co-workers as well as his students. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He proposed organizing a Christmas party at our office that year, something we'd never done and he threw himself into the project. It was a fun evening, with our staff bringing food from their native countries in potluck style, along with the families of our co-workers. England, France, Australia, Spain, Austria, Germany, Israel, Ireland, the USA and of course Italy were all represented at our gathering. We were not highly paid and most of us were scraping by to pay rents and keep food on the table, but it was all the same a festive celebration. At a certain point, Bill arrived with a Santa hat and a bag full of wrapped packages. We were taken aback as he pulled out of his sack, package upon package, one for each of us. He had wrapped something for each of us. A reindeer ornament fashioned from a paper roll and pipe-cleaners, a snowman made with other recycled bits of office supply cast-offs, each one transformed with a bit of glitter a marker, paperclips, white-out. He said, "It isn't Christmas without presents!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The time and creativity he invested in his gifts was touching and will always be remembered. Early the next year, Bill abruptly gave notice. He was heading back to Florence then to California. I was surprised and sad, I would miss his enthuastic optimism and happy nature. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A year or so later I had the opportunity to make a trip back to San Francisco to visit my family. I was excited to call my friend and say hello and hopefully make an appointment to see one another again. His mother answered the phone, I had met her during a visit she made to Florence to visit her son with her girlfriends. I remember the excited care Bill had taken in planning their itinerary, a visit to Via Tornabuoni to see all the designer shops, Ponte Vecchio, and of course they had to try an ice cream at Vivoli. I met her briefly in Cortona when they came to visit for the day and I immediately understood where Bill had inherited his sunny disposition and fashion sense from.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The voice on the line when I called was thin and pained. I explained who I was and that I was hoping to contact Bill. I was shocked and melted into tears as she explained that Bill was no longer amongst us, he had succumbed to the terrible disease called AIDS. I was dumbfounded and floundered for words of condolence "I'm so sorry, sorry he's gone-" She then was brave for me " You would not have wanted him to live if you saw him at the end. He is at peace now." and our conversation ended. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
World Aids Day was yesterday, December 1, 2014...but everyday is a good day to get informed and find out what you can do to prevent the loss of so many gifts of light in this dark world like my friend Bill. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We've come a long way but there is a long way to go- Ciao Bill- mi manchi.</div>
<div>
http://www.worldaidsday.org/<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-48163606135128249032014-11-24T23:39:00.001-08:002014-11-24T23:40:42.792-08:00Where the Wild Things Are...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcX9hZbEMWOLJx5-aA1tLim2anZwn2HKLvYDuON9mIaaEpl8RAiUR3TiOVoLdHQQSZo4sFhs4egrxSEY7p8ebZCP53PfcjOpCLNodcDOvjhF7g4-C1JlH7bIoVVIDEwdLOg3UTDoEO/s1600/massaruttoanimali2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcX9hZbEMWOLJx5-aA1tLim2anZwn2HKLvYDuON9mIaaEpl8RAiUR3TiOVoLdHQQSZo4sFhs4egrxSEY7p8ebZCP53PfcjOpCLNodcDOvjhF7g4-C1JlH7bIoVVIDEwdLOg3UTDoEO/s1600/massaruttoanimali2.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
We are fortunate to have talented artists and designers still striving to intrigue us with interesiting and beautiful designs. If you haven't already found him, be sure to drop-in to visit the gallery of Antonio Massarutto just below Casa Chilenne.<br />
<br />
Antonio is an award winning designer who won distinction for himself while still a student at l'<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Garamond, 'EB Garamond', Trebuchet, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">Accademia di Arti Applicate di Milano</span>. He creates sculpture, wearable and not in the form of jewelry, handbags and what Daisy and Carlotta appreciate most as Ecotaxidermy! Using recycled or recuperated materials he creates ironic and amusing sculptures which resemble hunting trophies of days gone by, or images of animals.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQllPOKwfWusL9CVlCN9q5okKeDGoj5NdU8BpTpXpZ7uuL364Wx-DzE9g8Lpycf6rAEUy_mmRYjKDkNfmXtKD8kYTz8REzZ_Dd4J-v_ZJjTb8iwrqb0XLd0BS-TqEaytDnKySoXNZW/s1600/massaruttoanimali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQllPOKwfWusL9CVlCN9q5okKeDGoj5NdU8BpTpXpZ7uuL364Wx-DzE9g8Lpycf6rAEUy_mmRYjKDkNfmXtKD8kYTz8REzZ_Dd4J-v_ZJjTb8iwrqb0XLd0BS-TqEaytDnKySoXNZW/s1600/massaruttoanimali.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
A boarhead made of antique bishop's vestments, or upholstry scraps, leather and nails, even foam rubber.<br />
An intriguing majestic polarbear made of chicken wire, the essential lines captured to give it mass and presence, but with a shift of light, he fades away, disappears- hopefully not an omen of this majestic beast's destiny.<br />
<br />
With a bit of irony he provokes irresponsible dog owners who let their dogs run free- immortalizing the pose which he sees too often on his doorstep with a life-sized dog made of duct tape.<br />
<br />
Black bristol board becomes an inky boar, lurking in the corner of the showroom while a dauchund, patiently awaits an owner. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuTgTeF6rPm09ch5s7ET0aVqRCSDPqiKMLlASUFVSa14cEIivQpUzP7kVAR6_c89_0c3adYgAMKXpbERMVHskURUrbiPLy820OuVZ0TyuOF18zGcDYTCoCge1Wm7O30vCbvYAnzsl/s1600/bristol5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyuTgTeF6rPm09ch5s7ET0aVqRCSDPqiKMLlASUFVSa14cEIivQpUzP7kVAR6_c89_0c3adYgAMKXpbERMVHskURUrbiPLy820OuVZ0TyuOF18zGcDYTCoCge1Wm7O30vCbvYAnzsl/s1600/bristol5.jpg" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Antonio has often said that he tests the success of his animal creations based on Daisy's reaction to it- she has been fooled a few times by the packaging tape dogs, foraging paper boar and upholstry fabric deer with tree branch antlers.<br />
<br />
His website is www.antoniomassarutto.it for those interested in seeing a rhinoceros made of potato sacks and other wonderful things...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
</div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-17443620391059614612014-08-09T08:11:00.000-07:002014-08-09T09:25:59.211-07:00Il Buon Giorno si vede dal mattino...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFqwV2Z_ULUmVlI9oL9PJloq0JEiG4mp2gzRPss2yygctzMD07_kPEoS7WHyiMrU39J-3OQZR765mLtNjFaMigBDBszxKKdO2nWSjK_6qd99p5c8Y01MTcXxezL2mA4TlasTrZuTe/s1600/tartine+croissants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwFqwV2Z_ULUmVlI9oL9PJloq0JEiG4mp2gzRPss2yygctzMD07_kPEoS7WHyiMrU39J-3OQZR765mLtNjFaMigBDBszxKKdO2nWSjK_6qd99p5c8Y01MTcXxezL2mA4TlasTrZuTe/s1600/tartine+croissants.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monday morning homemade croissants- all other days fresh from Pasticceria Banchelli</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Besides the wonderful history, sites, artwork and nature, I believe that one of the biggests draws for a visitor coming to Italy would be the food and wine. The very fine wines of the Val d'Orcia- Brunello of Montalcino and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano are always high on the lists of things to be tasted when a traveller arrives in Tuscany. The Florentine 2 lb t-bone chianina beefsteak, ribollita bread and vegetable soup (even in sweltering summer heat) are almost always sought after as a culinary experience not be missed. It's wonderful that travellers are becoming more aware of the fact that some of the most rewarding travel experiences are due to the fact that things are not like home. It is not just doing the things you do normally with a change of scenery.</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Many feel that the ueber-cool thing to do is to do everything "like Italians" to have the most authentic experience while you are on your trip - while scoffing at things that "tourists" do. I agree wholeheartedly that moving in the circles that locals do definitely creates a unique experience which can enrich anyone's trip. </div>
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPONf8CnrGLiY2xFNymUfkWZTYivGBIkv_hGGJ5pPUQFPCV3bQlmkcNATsiZshiywd764QUKR2P7cbK6RRazBTPFQG3AxF9Dyrgla8rs6FN1awfXFFMBfnI4KwGgQIYLLp-7qd-2DJ/s1600/ciaramiglia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPONf8CnrGLiY2xFNymUfkWZTYivGBIkv_hGGJ5pPUQFPCV3bQlmkcNATsiZshiywd764QUKR2P7cbK6RRazBTPFQG3AxF9Dyrgla8rs6FN1awfXFFMBfnI4KwGgQIYLLp-7qd-2DJ/s320/ciaramiglia.jpg" height="212" width="320" ya="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Easter Brunch at Casa Chilenne always includes homemade Ciaramiglia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When it comes to breakfast, the Italian way is a bit different than other places in the world. It is many times broken up into a few coffee breaks spaced throughout the morning. A quick coffee upon rising at home, or tea and a few pieces of melba toast or cookies, then a dash out the door towards the workplace or school. A pastry and capuccino at the local bar before starting work or school and then a scheduled mid -morning pause at about 10 am or so for a small sandwich or pizzetta, or another pastry and cup of coffee. Breakfast in the Italian tradition is great for people watching and observing local behaviour at the coffee bar, however, many foreign guests find it to be a bit lacking in substance.<br />
The exception to this would be Cortonese easter breakfast which features umbran cheese bread, tuscanissimo Ciaccia con la ciccia, hard boiled blessed chicken eggs, salami , and local egg-brioche style cake/bread with candied fruit and anise called Ciaramiglia.and of course the tradiional dove shaped brioche bread called La Colomba, a yeasted egg bread, studded with almonds and candied orange peel , glazed with an almond meringue icing </div>
<br />
When we started the bed and breakfast, we made a conscious decision that we would definitely serve our breakfast on site. We planned our restoration with a breakfast room and kitchen to this purpose. We researched the best local roasted coffee (Moka Più from Arezzo, in our opinion) and made it a priority to offer fresh-baked pastry from Cortona's historic Pasticceria Banchelli daily (except Mondays when they close or bake just for themselves) as well as a homemade sweets, high quality yogurts, cereals, local cold-cuts and cheeses and be sure to have fresh fruit available each day. We also offer more than 20 varieties of Twinings' collection of teas and infusions as well as hot chocolate and orzo barley coffee for non coffee drinkers. Most of the people around us said, "Why do you bother doing that? Everyone else just gives people a voucher to go to the bar." <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
Although it makes perfect sense from an economical point of view; no need for breakfast staff, supplies, linens or dedicating a space to breakfast, no waking up at 6:30 each morning and setting tables each night -the concept of having a bed and breakfast meant just that to us. Not a bed and coupon or voucher-for us bed and breakfast means only that. A stay with us should be special and breakfast should be a time to relax and start the day off right.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXjxQYHb9n6d66DyVlSmnE4y0sy20HFEACjWhbX2EwbdYtSs2_IZUNTWimdobLg9VM13cB3G2oXm6S2lP79MAS8jMBum3XFVlZODJUjek6KDxUAZhW15V9u528diKvQAxisFRLel3/s1600/cinnamon+rolls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwXjxQYHb9n6d66DyVlSmnE4y0sy20HFEACjWhbX2EwbdYtSs2_IZUNTWimdobLg9VM13cB3G2oXm6S2lP79MAS8jMBum3XFVlZODJUjek6KDxUAZhW15V9u528diKvQAxisFRLel3/s320/cinnamon+rolls.jpg" height="320" width="240" ya="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cinnamon rolls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIFTyDyXrwoO1PGy38BxOa4Sfp0ExIiK2vUavRYcANVg5DO_0OGyOxiw_xM2ve-b1Muz4d62445nFOfWP9rSzOCftktvCtoYd6dxh80djZa-KFTY-gwqOoyi8NBitQDcd0e1fkOZD/s1600/waffle+with+strawberries.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIFTyDyXrwoO1PGy38BxOa4Sfp0ExIiK2vUavRYcANVg5DO_0OGyOxiw_xM2ve-b1Muz4d62445nFOfWP9rSzOCftktvCtoYd6dxh80djZa-KFTY-gwqOoyi8NBitQDcd0e1fkOZD/s1600/waffle+with+strawberries.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeasted Waffles with seasonal fruit</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We can serve the coffee gulp and dasher as well as the leisurely breakfast lover. We've extended our breakfast menu to include eggs and bacon cooked to order as well as American style waffles and real cultured buttermilk pancakes on request, served with seasonal toppings or with the classic topping of real, organic Canadian maple syrup. We were pleased to find that our guests appreciated this option, both those native to countries where these dishes are common fare at breakfast time as well as travellers who had fond memories of enjoying them while on vacation in the UK or Canada or the USA. Most surprising are the guests who have spent time working or studying in the US, UK or Canada and plan a stay with us specifically to enjoy the morning ritual of a leisurely, fresh cooked breakfast and share this experience with friends or family who have never experienced it. What better way to slow down the pace and thoroughly enjoy one's holiday?<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSwkqvqWt1CwriieKdGUKXG5maJmDNDHRPI3NX1C7rVj9v7WAes_EeVe_fAz70dXTOVKPwpYZ_G6QDR7_STNZW-Fncohia2usLRAcZbuzti_ydPM_3mTwVNo5ukLZPRgvNVs0_Nf2/s1600/bacon+and+eggs.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSwkqvqWt1CwriieKdGUKXG5maJmDNDHRPI3NX1C7rVj9v7WAes_EeVe_fAz70dXTOVKPwpYZ_G6QDR7_STNZW-Fncohia2usLRAcZbuzti_ydPM_3mTwVNo5ukLZPRgvNVs0_Nf2/s1600/bacon+and+eggs.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">scrambled eggs and bacon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-55031667156465627082014-07-28T00:00:00.000-07:002014-07-28T08:28:51.927-07:00A Handful of Earth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeEexgeAZfpd-2Vci4h8dgTj4rPZVLkIusZQ0cdZinibJF2OaypKu4OSW_8O_8LeT6TFAYLBM5L9pBb_ecyIL51Dxh_tN2qgqXYkcU7HYQ3ZzpdlBrFpO72W4isSMwIcOi0IImm9n/s1600/giulio+rosehip+mirror.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZeEexgeAZfpd-2Vci4h8dgTj4rPZVLkIusZQ0cdZinibJF2OaypKu4OSW_8O_8LeT6TFAYLBM5L9pBb_ecyIL51Dxh_tN2qgqXYkcU7HYQ3ZzpdlBrFpO72W4isSMwIcOi0IImm9n/s1600/giulio+rosehip+mirror.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
It seems that there is something fascinating and magical in the art of terracotta, or ceramics. The process of taking this clay rich soil, mixing it with water then shaping and transforming it into something durable, useful, beautiful is an ancient art which has existed for centuries and centuries. It is a skill, a passion.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The Etruscans, the ancient people who gave Tuscany it's name and shaped its character as early as 900 BC in some areas were master ceramicists. Many exquisite examples of their craftmanship can be found in museums and collections throughout the world. Probably the most interesting examples were created in "bucchero" a heavy, black ceramic. created to be economic imitations of iron vessels. Bucchero vessels started out as simple red clay vessels which turned black throughout due to the chemical reaction of reduction of the iron oxides in the clay when the pots were fired in kilns starved of oxygen.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is a neighborhood in Cortona, just outside the city walls which is called Cocciai . This is the neighborhood my husband grew up in after his family left the walled cit, post World War II, when he was five. In local dialect the word "coccio" refers to a terracotta vessel and Cocciai was the neighborhood of the potters.</div>
<div>
<br />
Besides the traditional pottery for storing oil, water,food and bowls for the household or handwarmers and cooking vessels, the cocciai (potters) made special novelty items for the holidays small whistles for children, some simple, some held water to create a gurgling whistle sound, ocarinas and other small toys and figurines.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLO80juxnTHUO_blMY-KwChNnWGF_tE_1MnbWKaCmyhxQ9xr1F-UC-25Oy8NXIWZNYSt_43XZw8lnT8Qc2C-qqCYNSKs1nbc_RbP2UST-ISADSe8LA8GNJoiPYf94gf3D88d3Ph8Q2/s1600/giulio+cocciai.JPG" height="400" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLO80juxnTHUO_blMY-KwChNnWGF_tE_1MnbWKaCmyhxQ9xr1F-UC-25Oy8NXIWZNYSt_43XZw8lnT8Qc2C-qqCYNSKs1nbc_RbP2UST-ISADSe8LA8GNJoiPYf94gf3D88d3Ph8Q2/s1600/giulio+cocciai.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">This is a picture of the last of the original Cocciai - Giuseppe Marconi with the dark shirt, taking pots out of the original stone kiln which was heated with fire from below </a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Each medieval town has a maiolica pattern to distinguish it from the others. Orvieto with small birds, Perugia has a dragon design, Deruta pottery traditionally has a rooster. Cortona's traditional pattern is the creamy yellow background with a simple 12 petaled sunflower or some call it a daisy design in green (copper oxide) and brown (manganese oxide).<br />
<br />
I had always been told that the design was a daisy to pay homage to Santa Margherita one of Cortona's two patron saints. However, Giulio Lucarini, the last of the ceramists trained at Cocciai, along with his wife Antonella Fazzini tells different story which traces the sunflower design to the turn of the last century and to the city of Boston in the United States.<br />
<br />
According to Giulio's maestro cocciaio, the original design of Cortona was a simple flower, not the 12 petaled flower we see today. It's said that there was a bostonian merchant acquiring wares in the 1800's in Florence and he was taken by the ceramics sold there and produced in Cortona. He was able to procure the address of the producers in Cortona and travelled down from Florence to directly negotiate an export deal. As the merchants travelled through the countryside they were accompanied by Giulio's maestro, Giuseppe Marconi, a young boy at the time, who was given the task of showing these merchant's the scenery around the area during their visit. Taken by the sights in the fields around them they asked that a modification be made to change the simple flower to a sunflower design and as they bid the boy farewell, they gave him a tip to thank him for his services which far surpassed the sum of 2 months salary for his father. After that, this young Giuseppe's task was to pack the crates with the ceramics for shipping to Boston, carefully copying the shipping instructions for delivery to the vessel called the "King David". These shipments continued until the Second World War.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-XwxxDbcljiVZ1HKhD7WSzwYzXS3v5UGKDKPuF39Z2SVVSkGV-y9ABN-nFA-KOK2SjZeSE34tF4V50x1aME0bmzl69U4m3OR6ejvTVQ5uayZ5LwZqm9V71TIiZsT8v34_x5aMzzXy/s1600/giulio+flower+jug.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-XwxxDbcljiVZ1HKhD7WSzwYzXS3v5UGKDKPuF39Z2SVVSkGV-y9ABN-nFA-KOK2SjZeSE34tF4V50x1aME0bmzl69U4m3OR6ejvTVQ5uayZ5LwZqm9V71TIiZsT8v34_x5aMzzXy/s1600/giulio+flower+jug.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's a picture of the original flower jug</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIgIGdeV0wWAnP_6esp5pWWt3cx7DzaPQpO_yyyyYtcNBh6V18irDUXwUgSqmfQxEXbtTsnOvWRHv6CtL2WT77qmtaU-RT2dwNSnwbiXsMybXisSLIgM4dfB8qXXAM0MNA5VokziS/s1600/giulio+sunflower+jug.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIgIGdeV0wWAnP_6esp5pWWt3cx7DzaPQpO_yyyyYtcNBh6V18irDUXwUgSqmfQxEXbtTsnOvWRHv6CtL2WT77qmtaU-RT2dwNSnwbiXsMybXisSLIgM4dfB8qXXAM0MNA5VokziS/s1600/giulio+sunflower+jug.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here is a sunflower jug</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Even Cortonese born Gino Severini, Futurist artist of the 20th century, was fascinated by this craft of his hometown. He would make visits to the cocciai to try his hand at sculpture and decoration, leaving them with original designs for them to reproduce on their pieces.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtD20elo08ifdcx0cKdcOFpFbH5v_j8JCGxuO5wZktoubdVGUs2E-RI7IxvG4uHsVBJ3jG-hOFjhXtpjXl5wrVZ9SgO3r0D1jviSspPQBkJ020TZ1OtPUMXZPM2ALz0rIZimGoXDLP/s1600/foto+(28).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtD20elo08ifdcx0cKdcOFpFbH5v_j8JCGxuO5wZktoubdVGUs2E-RI7IxvG4uHsVBJ3jG-hOFjhXtpjXl5wrVZ9SgO3r0D1jviSspPQBkJ020TZ1OtPUMXZPM2ALz0rIZimGoXDLP/s1600/foto+(28).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A design by Gino Severini on a jug</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQ5Vnv0U5sgxTqVZcdyXIaS7KeF_ZlXaCXMnVJED_itNyXihLiXmq-SP8j6no2CE9dxkDaTR1VsfoLzKSiUc5eX-tnGT3pDEJNuQr7nyPLDHIUqx3T5PHpVsmvoKtFw4HMzZMWgUk/s1600/giulio+severini+detail.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQ5Vnv0U5sgxTqVZcdyXIaS7KeF_ZlXaCXMnVJED_itNyXihLiXmq-SP8j6no2CE9dxkDaTR1VsfoLzKSiUc5eX-tnGT3pDEJNuQr7nyPLDHIUqx3T5PHpVsmvoKtFw4HMzZMWgUk/s1600/giulio+severini+detail.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a closer detail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Giulio's workshop is in an alley below his home and the store where he sells his wares is Terrabruga, on the street level of Via Nazionale. After learning his trade from the artisans of Cocciai, Giulio started his own workshop. Drawing from the generations of experience passed on to him he continues to create the traditional patterned terracotta, like many of the plates we use for breakfast as well as new and modern designs. Antonella, Giulio's wife is especially good at suggesting pieces for Giulio to decorate which fit in as accents to modern tableware as well.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5NT4R7S-RxRUHyZRq0ebCDPfW-xWX1a4bBAY7frL8M3HPs_kYHNo3EGxHtTkSqqvY4mjJTBRD7Mm9r5XjOmfP91kscskfkWM2VlDFCIh551TtToQURgVu8QPJULauI7lEcOQ6fii/s1600/giulio+standing+lemon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5NT4R7S-RxRUHyZRq0ebCDPfW-xWX1a4bBAY7frL8M3HPs_kYHNo3EGxHtTkSqqvY4mjJTBRD7Mm9r5XjOmfP91kscskfkWM2VlDFCIh551TtToQURgVu8QPJULauI7lEcOQ6fii/s1600/giulio+standing+lemon.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Giulio's love of nature is reflected in many of the "one of a kind" whimsical pieces he creates using the same rough, terracotta to shape and recreate the flora and fauna of our area in amazing detail. Each piece is unique and is the fruit of his talent, skill and some luck as well. The firing of clay can be a tricky business and not all the pieces he slaves hours or days over make it through the process safely.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlOQgo8meDokg3YlfRyTh0BXorOSneoUV0Ue1pix1O21x2Wcqt1xvyexYCqplDhKIZyppjqbOGiM3eQbhdXvvVKIp7fdyvaWDUKOBjlI3MqMsJzLVen5CB6OP5BlxbYw22sOpUnM0/s1600/giulio+standing+cherry.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlOQgo8meDokg3YlfRyTh0BXorOSneoUV0Ue1pix1O21x2Wcqt1xvyexYCqplDhKIZyppjqbOGiM3eQbhdXvvVKIp7fdyvaWDUKOBjlI3MqMsJzLVen5CB6OP5BlxbYw22sOpUnM0/s1600/giulio+standing+cherry.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM23Bj-8oLLUiFlWHyNIPRULr5RJhGDRsUygFuXFnm9qlfUhTSwM0inf7g3sO-so0T1B2HNKheqLLKi2uTz_hUGS33IfDrXCCi9StBhEenfRSg-feKhR6Bxxt-eLfTZMMVW_dA8rRW/s1600/giulio+garlic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM23Bj-8oLLUiFlWHyNIPRULr5RJhGDRsUygFuXFnm9qlfUhTSwM0inf7g3sO-so0T1B2HNKheqLLKi2uTz_hUGS33IfDrXCCi9StBhEenfRSg-feKhR6Bxxt-eLfTZMMVW_dA8rRW/s1600/giulio+garlic.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1R_m0ucXYaIaAyAHzqDB6VokSzo4pJrhpfxWaJI5tvUS4Za_lmj0jIyx6t4QZUumhiFTgKnmN6hge-DXBIYCJvL_1RduqJGCCV4WuSCCzM2BpK-zovKyv_7BpA3BTKp-zLesl5jc/s1600/giulio+rondini+vaso.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1R_m0ucXYaIaAyAHzqDB6VokSzo4pJrhpfxWaJI5tvUS4Za_lmj0jIyx6t4QZUumhiFTgKnmN6hge-DXBIYCJvL_1RduqJGCCV4WuSCCzM2BpK-zovKyv_7BpA3BTKp-zLesl5jc/s1600/giulio+rondini+vaso.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I was once told a poignant story by the descendant of an Italian immigrant to the United States that during the years when Italians were compelled to leave their homeland to search for a better life elsewhere, they would take a handful of soil with them as they braved the ocean journey to a new life.<br />
<br />
So many visitors fall in love with Cortona as they live their vacations here, and so many bring home a piece of terracotta with our daisy/sunflower pattern-perhaps this is a new version of that ritual- a way to keep a bit of this beautiful place in their homes.<br />
<br /></div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-77152719649777447882014-06-18T00:56:00.001-07:002014-06-19T00:18:43.546-07:00To Every Season--<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIMM_QJYiF1dLCzS9nzFWQVnvzWw5o1vF6R_w0sTPXSzyGZlnvlGN6nYEVJL8yJUASlWZxo8K0r7u8-d4O7OmIpysxNBPRFpQtLaVOgVAX-EyeMB5avvoOmcq1v9_4r-oWfZWfcC3/s1600/P1010967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIMM_QJYiF1dLCzS9nzFWQVnvzWw5o1vF6R_w0sTPXSzyGZlnvlGN6nYEVJL8yJUASlWZxo8K0r7u8-d4O7OmIpysxNBPRFpQtLaVOgVAX-EyeMB5avvoOmcq1v9_4r-oWfZWfcC3/s1600/P1010967.JPG" height="640" width="424" /></a></div>
<br />
There is something reassuring about the seasons coming and going bringing their fruits and celebrations. As Cortona is surrounded by lands used for agriculture it is easy to be aware of the changes in the landscape, the colors and sounds. The swallows screech with joy when they arrive, there is rhythmic cooing of pigeons as they nest in the rooftops, the cicadas' frantic ,humming chirps fill hot summer nights.<br />
<br />
Quince, peach, cherry and almond blossoms explode on bare branches as winter draws to a close, the yellow puffball flowers of mimosa are the symbol of March 8th, international Women's Day and are followed by the bright magenta blooms of the red bud trees, or albero di Giuda (Judas trees) which announce the arrival of Easter. At this time when driving along the roads, one can find people carefully picking through the grasses in the olive orchards or along the sides of the road hunting for insalata del campo, wild salad greens, to be gathered for the Easter luncheon perhaps, or the first tender wild borage to be mixed with fresh spring ricotta for homemade ravioli stuffing. Next come the purple flowers, the iris, the lupines, the borrage, then the yellow and white flowers, camomile daisies, mustard greens, dandelions, Queen Anne's lace. The photographically famous bright red poppies bloom in May and June amongst the wheat fields, exploding crimson in the fields left to rest from grain cultivation that year.<br />
<br />
Wheat fields shimmer with the summer breeze, first green, then gold and as they undergo this transformation, sunflowers climb toward the blue skies turning golden faces towards the sunrise. When summer lingers on and their proud heads heavy with seeds droop, the wheat fields have been reaped leaving great spools of hay dotting the stubble while the grapevines are heavy with plump clusters and olives swell on silvery green boughs. As the seasons change the crazy quilt of fields on the hills change in dazzling color and texture.<br />
<br />
Autumn is probably one of the most satisfying times from a gastronomic point of view in our corner of Italy. The new oil to be sampled on slices of toasted, saltless Tuscan bread, the real bruschetta being merely garlic rubbed on the bread before a drenching of the green-gold, piccant new oil and a pinch of salt. I have always been amused by the line-up at the olive mill with farmers who jealously guard their personally pampered olives to be sure that no inferior olive slips into their lot nor a drop of their oil stolen as they wait for their turn at the mill. As each wait on line he will politely accept a piece of bread soaked with their neighbors oil as it pours forth from the press, certain that none will be as good as his own when it his turn.<br />
<br />
During grape harvest, I always try to find someone with a vineyard who will give me a cluster or two of wine grapes to make the traditional ciaccia con l'uva, a sweet foccacia bread. This treat is unusual and simple, but appreciated on our breakfast buffet.<br />
<br />
Chestnuts harvested from Mount Sant'Egidio can be roasted and savored with new wine or vin santo. The new wine is ready for tasting in November many times accompanied by roast chestnuts on San Martino's feastday of November 11th..<br />
<br />
However, the best reason take to the woods in the Fall is to search for many of the wild mushrooms which abound in this season. Besides the well known porcini and it's lesser edible cousins of the boletus family, there are many other tasty treats only to be found in this season. There are also truffles to be found by carefully trained truffle dogs and their owners. The prized Tartufo Bianco delle Crete Senesi being the king of truffles in this season is celebrated at nearby San Giovanni d'Asso, in the Val d'Orcia.<br />
<br />
Traditionally, this is the time when pigs meet their maker and are transformed into delicious sausage, salame, capocollo, prosciutti, pancetta, testa fredda, sanguinaccio blood sausage. It really is true that nearly everything except the "oink" is used and nothing wasted. This waste not want not approach just seems to give their demise a little more sense.<br />
<br />
All Saints Day start off the rounds of holiday sweets with the "Bones of the Dead" almond cookies, followed in quick succession of panettone, torroni, panforte, ricciarelli, pan d'oro and cavalucci (a spice cookie with walnuts and candied fruits typical of the area).<br />
Christmas celebrations are still relegated to December here, although it seems that every year a few more merchants are trying to jump the gun and amplify their season. Traditionally ornaments are put up on December 8th, the Assumption Day of the Madonna and the streets and store windows come to life with lights and displays. This time of year is a sort of "Homecoming" time. So many Cortoneses have immigrated over the decades to find fortune in other places, especially in the 1960's and 1970's. All Saint's Day , November 1, is the traditional day for families to visit the cemetary, clean up the grave sites and spend a day together. The 8th of December through the 6th of January are considered le "Feste" the holiday season during which time family split up their luncheon duties to celebrate on the 8th, the 24th, the 25th, the 26th and 31st of December, all holidays, and the 1st and 6th of January.<br />
<br />
The strings of lights which twinkle along Via Nazionale , Via Guelfa, Via Roma, Via Dardano and Via Benedetti (brought to you by the local merchants as I learned the first year we opened the B&B) illuminate the roads to the cathedral to Piazza Signorelli and Piazza della Repubblica-the square of the townhall which becomes the backdrop for the light and music show which livens New Year's Eve. The country houses that dot the valley and hillsides are adorned with colored lights on their railings and windows, on the trees in the garden. The Valdichiana countryside lights up at midnight with fireworks as families and friends in the valley welcome in the new year.<br />
<br />
January plods toward February, life in the countryside deceptively seems inert, preparations are being made for the new harvests and finishing touches put on some of the old. The lands rest, but farmers do not. Vines and trees to be pruned and fertilized, brush to be gathered, burned, The scents of wood smoke filter up the hill from the fields and chimneys. Finer wine is coaxed along to develop the best flavor in the large Slovenian oak or smaller French barrique barrels; tasted, consolidated, moved to different sizes and types of barrels before bottling. February marks the debut 4 or 5 years after their harvest of some of the important wines of the area like Brunello of Montalcino or Vino Nobile di Montepulciano.<br />
<br />
Free time can be dedicated to hunting, a tradition in this area which put some extra food on the table in the winter. Pheasant, wild boar, wild hare, partridge, venison, are now delicacies, but at one time were accessible sources of protein to even the poorest in the areas.<br />
<br />
As planting season approaches, the clay rich soil will be plowed with long tined plows to pull up large chunks of earth, left to dry and plowed again with wheel disks to break up the soil and prepare for seeding of wheat, oats, corn, sunflowers.. When the first shoots start to sprout from the vines it will be time to return to the vineyard to tie and train them to encourage the best quality grapes, clear away the grass and fertize the vines .All in anticipation of April and May's natural irrigation . There are roses, hydrangeas to be pruned, plants to be re-potted, all rituals that tie one closer to the earth.<br />
<br />
At times it seems the year is a merry go round, revolving faster and faster. I remember a conversation with my grandmother, in her nineties at the time at her fruit orchards in California . "The older you get the faster the years go" she said . As I grow older in Tuscany, I know she was right and it seems comforting in many ways to know that no matter what trouble tries to distract or stall me, there is a force always pushing me forward - life goes on and so must I for that is the force of nature. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9WSli6ILL3ZHyLoBrAyBEHWCWFzv7j-RJVFeeI22qzyFqtUKbZdRb8Ck5ljrdQYBFcCpReGQ1wi_IOQN0aOgb_fRJR6EDluZFEgl9BgnLgA70Ae-xYMEj_SU9SRrTpBYvOytf5ps/s1600/P1010967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ9WSli6ILL3ZHyLoBrAyBEHWCWFzv7j-RJVFeeI22qzyFqtUKbZdRb8Ck5ljrdQYBFcCpReGQ1wi_IOQN0aOgb_fRJR6EDluZFEgl9BgnLgA70Ae-xYMEj_SU9SRrTpBYvOytf5ps/s1600/P1010967.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-60761774723828160852014-06-11T12:05:00.000-07:002014-12-03T11:37:00.893-08:00Uno, Due, Tre, "Masterchef !!!!!" (applausi)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUQwvA25-KKhwpaZ23R3YoDPS4cRlWUU6EkU26ZlBRCrWitTN6vV_WwZ2SRpqbQbrB8z8IXionet1vztuuLdPS-yCC1mtrhfXlzj9vczkEHVOwFjmlqcoSAyHfpedIseKVP6GfIsO/s1600/masterchef.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSUQwvA25-KKhwpaZ23R3YoDPS4cRlWUU6EkU26ZlBRCrWitTN6vV_WwZ2SRpqbQbrB8z8IXionet1vztuuLdPS-yCC1mtrhfXlzj9vczkEHVOwFjmlqcoSAyHfpedIseKVP6GfIsO/s1600/masterchef.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
It's 7:40 am , April 12, 2014- I'm outside the Sheraton Roma with roughly 300 other hopeful candidates for the cast of Masterchef Italia 4. Upon arrival at the hotel with my friend Donatella, about an hour before, aside from the 7 foot illuminated posters outside, we found little evidence of what would become this now bustling mob scene. Just the few people seated in the lobby with ice-chests, grocery bags and nervous looks of anticipation on their faces had indicated that this was the place. At home, Luciano wasn't 100 percent "on board" with my decision and I had been getting whiplash trying to keep up with his feelings regarding my participation. One minute he was ranting and raving about my lack of judgement in moving forward with this crazy idea, and the next he was offering his opinion about how my dish should be presented.<br />
<br />
A pretty girl from Naples had come down to the lobby in her pajamas shortly after Donatella and I had arrived.. She had slept at the Sheraton and told us that the television judges/chefs wouldn't be there. She also revealed that there had already been an audition in Milan where more than 3000 candidates had attended. According to her source of information the meetings had continued on until 9 pm there. A blond woman in a <span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;">blue wide brimmed hat</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"> </span> overheard her report and expressed her worry that she might miss her plane back to Sardegna if this was the case today and that she had been told that there was the possibility of facing a "Mystery Box" challenge. I started to worry, I had obviously not done my research about this event. I had not been made privy to any of this insider information. .<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Now, pressed close together, the hotel staff had long ago shuffled everyone from the lobby outside to the island across from the main entrance . We stood packed together, shoulder to shoulder, clutching insulated food bags, styrofoam ice chests, picnic baskets, portable battery run refrigerators, plain old grocery bags. Before leaving Cortona the evening before, I had nestled the little "nuggets of me" in glass bowls, frozen, wrapped and bubble wrapped in an insulated bag along with a jar of frozen broth for my dish ; I'd carefully packed them into a small wheeled shopping bag, and, to be on the safe side I packed 2 of each dumpling so I had spares, the Girl Scout instinct dies hard.<br />
<br />
Cherry picker cameras were mounted facing the garden courtyard outside the hotel. Someone who carried himself with an official air announced that soon we would be given stickers with numbers on them. We were to attach the large number to our clothing and the second half of the sticker should be kept for later. The typical Italian conical line had formed and as the line moved forward more late comers attempted to push their way in from the sides. My years of training at the bank and post office paid off. I was amongst the first 10 people who'd arrived at the hotel and I was able to stand my ground and snatch away one of the first 50 sticker numbers. Some of my Girl Scout spirit has faded a bit.<br />
<br />
After receiving our numbers we were requested to position ourselves in the small garden area to the right of the entrance near a small gazebo. As we filed by to take our places I noticed that there were photographers as well as video cameras documenting the event. I also noticed that I stuck out from the crowd which was mainly dressed in black and gray. I had a light suede jacket and red coral colored polka-dot tee, Donatella was thrilled and sure that this was a great omen. Although unintentional on my part, there were others who seemed to have made their wardrobe selections to intentionally stand out from the crowd. An older man with a pronounced Naples accent sported a rather garish shirt and bolo tie, a heavily tattooed, middle aged woman with Crayola red hair coiffed in a geometric spiky hairstyle was dressed in black leather, a thin, waiflike young man wore leggings under an oversized tee shirt and was wrapped with an enormous colorful chiffon scarf. Hundreds of people, young and old of different ethnicities and walks of life had their sights set on becoming the next Masterchef Italia. Soon, when all the numbers had been given, the cherry picker camera went into action. A man gave directions with a megaphone: "On the count of three, everyone shout "Masterchef !!!" then applaude, hands over your heads!"<br />
<br />
As the cherry picker camera flew about above us, we were incited to repeat this war cry. Again and again- Hey, you people sitting (and smoking) on the wall over there, we can see you - we need everyone to pay attention here-look at the camera. "Di nuovo, uno, due, tre, Masterchef!!! (applausi)" Bolo tie guy: "Come on now! Do it right or they won't pay us!" Two guys standing near me:"Next New Year's Eve we'll be screaming 'Masterchef!!!' instead of Happy New Year" After our third or fourth attempt a sleepy eyed, bare-torsoed man came to the window of a garden-view room. I am sure he did not put in a request for the Masterchef wake-up call.<br />
<br />
The director seemed satisfied (and probably encouraged by the hotel front desk staff to be so) with their external shots. amd we were then herded back to one side of the entrance to the lobby. We were informed by another of the casting company representatives that we would be called in small groups to the meeting room they had rented on the lower floor of the hotel. I had been stopped for a few minutes after the Masterchef chant by a video camera and interviewed- name, where was I from and whiy I wanted to be the next Masterchef. If I could describe myself as an ingredient what would it be? I had felt at ease until this question stumped me for a moment...." Uh...a Dungeness Crab!"---what a stupid answer...I was being given directions ...look into the camera and say "I want to be the next Masterchef Italia" I did so and tried to load my statement with as much determination as possible. As I was dismissed and turned to walk away, the woman who had stopped me for the interview said, "oh, and by the way, I'm Francesca, I interviewed you on the telephone." It was not until that moment that I realized that this was a finely orchestrated mob scene. This was confirmed and I was even more heartened when I was summoned from the entrance to an isolated spot back in the garden to take some still shots as I was coached to make the "buono" gesture, my index finger pressing into my cheek.<br />
<br />
As other startled guests of the hotel attempted to maneuver and exit the lobby, we were led out of the way inside to wait to be called upstairs to the audition space offices. The downstairs room was basically a waiting room. So many hopeful people waiting and waiting. There was a bit of comic relief for us when Donatella was whisked back outside with my overnight bag by one of the casting crew, we were both perplexed, Donatella frightened that we may have infringed some rule. However, when she returned relieved, she told me that they had found my bag to be the most attractive one there and they wanted to photograph it outside on the grassy area. I called Luciano to tell him that if I didn't make it on the show, maybe my bag would..<br />
<br />
In small groups candidates only were led upstairs to another audition area and more waiting. By observing what the others were doing the new group would surmise what was to be done.When called one was to go to a prep room, with table stations and microwaves ready to prepare and plate the food. After that was the meeting with a chef and representative of the casting company for tasting. I was surprised when still waiting for my turn to go to the prep room that I was asked to stay a little longer after the tasting for an additional interview.<br />
<br />
While prepping my food I noticed there was a camera man and a photographer documenting it all while Francesca asked me questions about my dish. After a few minutes I was ready. Three glass bowls with my three garnished dumplings arranged on an olive wood board, the hot broth waiting in the small teapot. The photographer took the last shot and I awaited mine.<br />
<br />
The chef was cordial and the casting representative asked just a few questions. I was encouraged when the chef asked about the broth I'd used, the method of making the duck skin crispy. I couldn't resist asking him after he'd tasted all three what he thought...he only replied cryptically, " I can't say."<br />
<br />
I was then led to a final room for the additional interview/audition. I was told, "This is only for fun, we have a website, a blog, we might use some of this footage here, but remember this is only for fun.." I was instructed to give instructions for classic Italian dishes, then give the instructions without talking, then mime different pasta shapes. I was quite proud of my interpretation of a tortellone .<br />
By about 1:30 pm, my audition was over. The last step was having a head shot done and the casting company representative told everyone that we would only receive a phone call if we were selected and by the end of May.<br />
<br />
I didn't know it then, but my journey had ended.<br />
<br />
For the next forty plus days I dreamt and dreamt big, waited for the phone to ring, hoped and really believed it would. I worried about the arrangements to be made before leaving Cortona, I fretted about what I would need to bring to Milan. As the countdown closed on the end of May, I clung desperately to any driftwood of hope in the ocean of doubt that was swallowing me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
And now on June 11, 2014 these are the things I know for sure. I know I can cook, I know I can dream and I know that there are many more people who believe in me than don't.<br />
<br />
And I'm still counting on Karen...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIcmWL6t1vpv8XOdYfO6G6Xcg3fgqT1jEKswVogpVHQMoN_R54ZTGdJ4Vn3XR4T8SHuRrwuO7wmv1AxuhqfYEU3Er-A4AoEC7LqT1I-r82M7-NuwsMGxzMd5EQ2PegsytjOYAWcQj/s1600/MCbag2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIcmWL6t1vpv8XOdYfO6G6Xcg3fgqT1jEKswVogpVHQMoN_R54ZTGdJ4Vn3XR4T8SHuRrwuO7wmv1AxuhqfYEU3Er-A4AoEC7LqT1I-r82M7-NuwsMGxzMd5EQ2PegsytjOYAWcQj/s1600/MCbag2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhNk-bhzZk2RLFiELpZmwdjoyEtIGOhh51ioJEOd9iTntIBtOKoC_2iElufo5HXQN86x0tgNEjPtD3BfVSe1bp2_gvcnbOBiZDYonl0_IFrSfig2MlPG-11PYvFNv688vyLmNiFmU/s1600/MCbag1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlhNk-bhzZk2RLFiELpZmwdjoyEtIGOhh51ioJEOd9iTntIBtOKoC_2iElufo5HXQN86x0tgNEjPtD3BfVSe1bp2_gvcnbOBiZDYonl0_IFrSfig2MlPG-11PYvFNv688vyLmNiFmU/s1600/MCbag1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
* My bag which has star potential---keep your eyes open for it!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-10878011799534403002014-06-07T17:00:00.000-07:002014-06-08T21:34:10.988-07:00 Me on a plateFor those of you who follow Masterchef, whether the US, UK, Australia or Italia versions, one of the recurring questions posed to contestants is "what dish represents you on a plate?" As I was planning the dish I would present at my audition in Rome, this question really stuck out in my mind. Besides something that would be as delicious as possible re-warmed, I wanted to be sure that it "represented me on a plate".<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I tossed around many ideas in my head, it was Monday evening and I would have to depart for Rome on Friday. Whatever I brought would have to hold up to the trip and wait to be re-warmed the following day. I called my high school friend and confidante of nearly 40 years Carmen, to share the news and see what she might think. We both like to believe we share a spark of psychic ability which flares into an illuminating light every now and then when we are together. At the end of our phone conversation we both thought the same thing- duck. Why duck? And so duck became the springboard to the creation of me on a plate. It also meant that it had to be ordered from the butchers' and not available until Thursday.<br />
<br />
My early years in Cortona, especially the first year, was one of discovery; of the country, the people and most importantly myself. It had been probably the most significant leap of faith I've ever taken when I decided to follow that gut feeling and stay in Cortona after my study abroad experience here ended, without a plan, against all common sense. What better inspiration than my beginnings here?<br />
<br />
I decided that an Asian style soup dumpling would travel and heat well, but I wanted them to contain my Italian experiences. I decided to create a triptych of original dumplings which would be pre-cooked in broth, presented dry, each one garnished in a small bowl with various herbs, flowers, vegetables and fruit chosen to complement each one. At the time of serving, I would pour hot broth from a tea pot over each dumpling, letting the garnishes infuse the broth to complement each dumpling-or at least this was the idea.<br />
<br />
Dumpling 1- "O Mare Mio" Oh Sea of Mine... a scallop and shrimp filled dumpling . I rolled out the wrapper dough layered wtih small, whole parsley leaves - Translucent when cooked so the pink shrimp and scallop coral filling was visible. It's crescent shape curved to resemble the crustacean inside. Garnished with grated fresh ginger, thinly sliced green onion threads and parsley leaves it was probably the most traditional tasting and represented my nostalgia for my home town, San Francisco's seafood. Of course if available, I would have stuffed it with dungeness crab.<br />
<br />
Dumpling 2. " Un ricordo di Janna" - A Memory of Janna was a dumpling that told the story of a spring day with my Russian/American apartment mate for a time in Cortona. We could pay the rent, but our pantry was pretty bare. We would take long walks all around the city, up to the fortress to pass our days One early spring day we were walking in a meadow below the fortress and found it to be filled with sweet smelling wild mushrooms. Janna was certain they were edible. We started gathering as many as we could, we didn't have a basket so she took off her black velvet wrap (it was 1986 and she was rocking Madonna) we filled that then we both gathered more into the folds of our long skirts. All the while I interrogated her - How do you know they are edible? "My grandfather always took me mushroom hunting." - "In the US?" "No, in Russia." "But didn't you say you immigrated to the US when you were 9 ??!!" I refused to eat any until we brought specimens to the local bar/pizzeria where I'd washed dishes and waited tables to be examined and a verdict could be given. The usual afternoon clatch of card players gathered around to view our spoils, some were fungaioli (mushroom hunters) but a bit unwilling to pass judgement on any mushroom which wasn't a porcino. Claudio, a county police officer and mushroom enthusiast dropped by to visit his sister, the owner of the bar and pronounced them edible, Brumani gentili he told us. A triumphant Janna quickly gave me instructions on how to prepare them in a casserole with potatoes as they did when she was a child in Kiev.<br />
I wanted to capture this day and my fond memory of Janna in this dumpling. I prepared the noodle wrapper with a smattering of poppy seeds and enclosed a filling of brumani mushrooms procured for me by friend Chef Matteo Sciarri, chopped savoy cabbage and chinese dried cloud ear (mook yi) mushrooms. This one I garnished with finely julienned borage leaves , a few of the miniscule, bright periwinkle borage flowers and fragrant fresh thyme leaves. I sealed the dumpling with a series of pleats to form a round dumpling with a small top knot.<br />
<br />
<br />
Dumpling 3 " Odo ad Otello" Ode to Othello . An ill- fated duckling was the inspiration for my final and what I feel was the most successful dumpling. Filled with duck meat roasted in porchetta spices and sauteed finely diced apple and fennel bulb.<br />
<br />
Porchetta spices in this small corner of Tuscany/ Umbria is unique from any other place. A blend of fennel flowers or pollen , is chopped finely with garlic salt and pepper and a bit of rosemary. This spice blend is used on the whole deboned roast pig sold at market stands, on duck and rabbit and on the large Regina carp caught in the Trasimeno lake. Moving to the west or north the blend of spices changes- the rosemary increases and the fennel flower disappears. I wanted to use this distinctly Cortonese flavor in my last dumpling. I pleated along both sides bringing them together in the middle to form a leaf shape. I decided the garnish would be fine matchsticks of apple and fennel bulb with a few airy fronds of fennel leaves. I took the skin from the neck and made it crunchy crispy to add as the final touch of garnish.<br />
<br />
My first winter in Cortona I found housing 3 1/2 kilometers outside the city at the farmhouse of a German family. In lieu of rent I found myself the custodian and caretaker of 4 hens, 2 ducks, 7 penned geese and their pet crow Iago. Prior to their departure to winter in Germany I was given instructions in their very rudimentary and broken Italian. My Italian linquistic skills at the time were pretty much at the same level but in some way I understood that the free range animals were to be accompanied to their stall every evening, the light left on in the chicken coop for a few hours after dark, then they were to be released in the morning. The mean, hissing and frightening geese were to be fed every day.Iago's cage was to be put out in the morning and taken in at night. I had a small electric water heater which held 10 liters of water for showering and for heat I had a wood burning stove in their studio guesthouse which I would need to buy coke fuel for or I could (or so I understood) cut wood to use in the stove. I saw more snow that winter than in all of the 28 years I have lived in Cortona.<br />
<br />
I woke each morning and let the ducks and chickens out of their stall. I went to feed the hissing geese and took Iago's cage into the courtyard between the main house and my guest house. I washed up with ten seconds of warm then freezing cold water, cut wood if neccessary for the evening fire, then started the 1 hour walk towards Cortona to have a hot lunch in exchage for dish washing and waiting tables at the pizzeria/bar. Not too long after lunch, before it got dark, I would walk back to the farm, for nearly two weeks that winter there was snow on the ground which made it a difficult yet beautiful walk.. Not having children to torture with this tale of my character building past has become a deep regret.<br />
<br />
As you can imagine this San Francisco raised girl had little experience in raising livestock. After a few days, I came back from town to find that one of the ducks was on it's back in the stall. I knew enough to surmise that this was not right. I took him into the house, found a box, wrapped him in a towel and stoked up the stove to keep him warm. I made a mush of water and feed which I hand fed him through the night, sleeping close by. He was still alive the next day and looked a bit perkier. That morning the German family's neighbor, Signora Ida came to visit. She had been told that I would be staying there alone and she had come by to check and see how I was doing. Her visit pleased me, most of all I was anxious for her expertise in caring for the sick duckling. I showed her the little creature, and anxiously strained my brain to comprehend her advice in caring for him. "There's only one thing you can do..." Yes, tell me, tell me... "take it over by the side of the road over there" hmm - is there some special medicinal plant there? I wondered..."Then take it by its leg...." she circled her arm over her head " and throw it as far away as you can" Noooooo! I was horrified! Uh thank you , I think I'll see if he gets better first. As she bid me farewell she repeated her advice "It's the only thing to do." <br />
<br />
This horrifying thought was put out of my head later that day when a dark blue Giulietta pulled into the courtyard. My friend Alessandra pulled up and stepped out, her Doc Martens crunching into a leftover patch of snow. She had come to accompany me to the discotech near Arezzo where I made a little cash by running the coat check. Alex looked over the runt duckling who was starting to move around a little more. As the crow was named Iago, she decided that the duck should be called Othello.<br />
<br />
A few days later a call came from Germany- it was the mother of the family - how was I ? Fine, but the duck was not doing too well. What should I do? Without missing a beat she said "You can make a roast."<br />
<br />
And so poor Othello lived on borrowed time. I stayed on with the family another month or so after they came back from Germany. I proudly showed them that Othello was still alive, however they seemed to be more concerned by the fact that Iago had done a disappearing act one day from his cage (never to be found again) and that I had been expected to go out to the woods to find suitable pieces of wood to cut for my stove, not use the dry pieces they had stacked away which were cut to the proper lengths for their stove.<br />
It was clear that it was time to move on when I came back to the farm one afternoon to find a yellow orange pair of little webbed feet sitting on a sawed off tree stump.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to April 11, 2014. I 've tucked away these stories of my Tuscan life into 3 bites or so, hopeful that these little bundles will tell my story, open the conversation for me to tell my story. Open doors to a new part of my story.<br />
<br />
<br />
- to be continued-<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-80821209650656160472014-06-06T08:47:00.000-07:002014-06-07T16:35:30.060-07:00La Speranza è l'ultima a morire...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUS3ku_Z6Wfl_2M2VcQBiDcMjcp2OYhGtbIQfYS0WtYpHPCiLCWhCMADpGPZ2RVIrny5wvKe3XoUk1FmFOPEjXBqld2XXYbHsuz7hB0aCziNhIUTLsKlf8sda8ALskmiKgLeMMJB6/s1600/waffle+with+strawberries.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUS3ku_Z6Wfl_2M2VcQBiDcMjcp2OYhGtbIQfYS0WtYpHPCiLCWhCMADpGPZ2RVIrny5wvKe3XoUk1FmFOPEjXBqld2XXYbHsuz7hB0aCziNhIUTLsKlf8sda8ALskmiKgLeMMJB6/s1600/waffle+with+strawberries.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Hope is the last thing to die...<br />
Many friends and family have been following my somewhat cryptic posts on Facebook and wondering what craziness I had involved myself in this time. Well, reluctantly, because that little voice whispering "yes" in the clamour of the sea of "no's" is still just faintly audible in my head; I'll reveal to all what many already know.<br />
<br />
For a tortuously never-ending, brief 49 days I was a candidate in the final selection for the cast of Masterchef Italia season 4. At the encouragement of guest and now friend, Chef Peg Schaefer, I filled out the online application to participate in the show. I'd announced to Luciano my intention, what I was doing, bit by bit, blow by blow and he'd interupted his evening television viewing just a long enough to reply with a sarcastic smirk or chuckle. "Hey! I 'm pushing the send button- I'm applying!" met with the patronizing " Yeah, yeah- push the button (ha ha ha)."<br />
<br />
After an aborted first attempt, I filled it out again and attached the only photo I had of myself that was recent, the profile pic from Facebook. I sorted through the various photos of food I had posted on my page, mainly pastries and cakes from breakfast, but I had recently ventured into rediscovering some of the flavors of my Cantonese Chinese-American roots, so I had a few pictures of some typical dishes as well. After reflecting on which of the photos showcased my familiarity with various cooking techniques; I selected some chocolate easter eggs I had made (naturally with poodle decorations), a birthday cake decorated with buttercream roses and two bowls of wonton soup. I discarded the gingerbread houses, might seem too crafty I feared. I attached and sent it all away, Date: March 30th.<br />
<br />
April 3rd, ( had it been April 1st I would have been sure it was a joke) the cellphone rang on my way to the grocery store..."Hello, this is Francesca from Masterchef , I am calling you about your application. Can you talk?"---"I'm on my way grocery shopping but I can talk a while"...an appointment was made for the next day instead for a phone interview...the first day which transported me back nearly 40 years in time, the years of adolescent angst when life's meaning hanged in the balance of a telephone call.<br />
<br />
April 4th, 5:30 pm- the phone rang. "Hello!"<br />
Concern was expressed about my profession, I run a bed and breakfast and taping would take place between May and July, lodging in Milan would be provided, could I, would I be able to be away from my business that long? a bit of waffling on my part- "do you need to think about it?" "No, we'll make it work."<br />
A few more confirmations of the information previously sent, discussion of my food pics. A bit scarce in the "plating" department. Would it be possible for me to plate some of my food this weekend and send pictures? Sure.<br />
Already slightly shell-shocked by the fact that I had actually been called on my way to the grocery store, Luciano started to express his disapproval. Was I crazy? Who would look after the B&B? This would surely in his mind send the business into a downward spiraling demise. What did I think I was doing?<br />
<br />
It was one of those moments in my life when I didn't quite know what I was doing but gut instinct told me it was the right thing to do. After 24 years, 10 months and 13 days of marriage my husband and I had come upon an obstacle which was "non-negotialble". Continuing on this journey was something I had to do.<br />
<br />
Over the weekend he grudgingly ate pappardelle with ragu, which had been twirled and mounded just so, presented on enormous presentation worthy plates, primped-up and fawned over, and of course, photo documented before they were to be eaten. Homemade ravioli with asparagus sauce, a grilled pork chop with peperonata. I fretted as I had done my shopping for food before the plated food request had been made and I had to make due with what I had in the fridge. All the plates had that hearty trattoria look to them rather than the elegant, ethereal ristorante presence which made me worry. The chocolate lava cake with strawberry coulis and whipped cream looked dainty enough- so I sent off the photos Sunday night. Overtaken with doubt the next morning I snapped a quick picture of strawberry waffles and bacon and eggs I had prepared for a guest and sent those off as well.<br />
<br />
Late that afternoon I received the call. Congratulations! you have been selected to participate in a pre-selection of candidates for the transmission. Please come to Rome on Saturday. We start at 8 am but be there early because we will be handing out numbers ahead of time. Bring your dish fully cooked and you will have only a microwave available to prepare your food, you may bring a friend if you like. OK-<br />
<br />
My mom taught me to dream and dream big, there was no way at 52 nearly 53 , I could let this train pass me by and so I grabbed on tight bracing myself for the ride. I needed to come up with a plan which could maybe put my husband's mind at ease. As I tried to piece together a plan A, just in case I actually went forward, I was pleased as our best friend the retired baker was encouraging and said not to worry, he would take over homemade baked goods. My friend who had been practicing English conversation with me offered to take over breakfast service duty to help English speaking guests , and the few close confidantes with whom I shared the news of the journey I was embarking upon all cheered me on and encouraged me. Should this impossible dream become a reality, I knew I had a village of people who had my back.<br />
<br />
I became more and more convinced that my participation was destined to be. After 20 years, I remembered a session with a psychic in Berkeley, California, Karen Lundegaard. Karen had made a number of predictions about my life here in Italy. All had come true except one which I thought far-fetched at the time " I see you cooking on television". She had forseen the success of Frances Mayes still unwrtitten book, she'd predicted the spotlight it would cast on Cortona, she had seen my 15 year career as a tour director specifically working with university alumni, people who would become important in my life-why couldn't her last prediction for me come true?<br />
<br />
I had 6 days to plan a dish, find a hotel, and the courage to believe in my dream.<br />
<br />
(to be continued...)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-88974788073447284632013-07-27T07:28:00.001-07:002013-07-27T07:30:23.552-07:00Cortona's in the Mix !<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehebTQrDrg4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehebTQrDrg4</a><br />
<br />
The video above is the result of a project created for the Cortona Mix Festival which involved our city choir as well as children from the elementary school participating in a presentation of Verdi's "Aida".<br />
<br />
Whether or not one wants to consider the end result a success or failure in quality, it is most exciting that the project exists in itself.<br />
This is a perfect example of the positive potential of this festival and the impact and involvement it can have on our community. To see the enthusiam of young and old reconnecting to the rich musical gift created by Verdi and appreciated throughout the world is refreshing and exciting. Globalization of music can many times cause an overshadowing of domestic music and musicians now days in Italy-young people many times favor foreign music sung in languages they may not understand and shun their national products. <br />
<br />
Tonight will be the screening of "Metropolis" in Piazza Signorelli with musical accompaniment performed by the Orchestra Regionale Toscana. Events which will please a wide range of participants and priced right for many pockets instead of a select few. This is exciting...<br />
<br />
After much anticipation there will be a first viewing of "The Genius of a Place" a film produced by Sarah Marder and her colleagues at OLO Farm of Milano. This film uses Cortona as a case study and addresses among other questions, "Is there a way to make tourism sustainable?" After years of hard work, the film seems to be in the final editing phases and a preview has been promised for August 2. <br />
<br />
The biggest surprise of the festival is the surprise concert appearance of our homegrown internationally famous, Lorenzo Cherubini---better know as Jovanotti , in a closing show on August 4th. <br />
<br />
The Feltrinelli bookstore is open for business at the MAEC- and as a side note, the travel photography festival, Cortona on the Move has just inaugurated this, its 3rd year. <br />
<br />
Cortona is definitely in the Mix---a provocative protagonist, inviting all to tickle their fantasy to the world of possibility when art meets enthusiam.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-131266662575054962013-06-11T01:06:00.000-07:002013-06-11T01:06:22.701-07:00Dancing in the Streets-the Cortona Mix Festival<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiN1lH5GY5u4hHbaMlwPj7v8d-iGXJ6IauD4Jb8wt9liH7tIhiSvCtS1cMbxHGm75K5inCBpVHrsxCKe3Cux62Lol5aMuwVAmiM_Hfw_D8CJgdcdagpq3WtxT2d7PJUnRLP2AVXc_/s1600/logo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" cya="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiN1lH5GY5u4hHbaMlwPj7v8d-iGXJ6IauD4Jb8wt9liH7tIhiSvCtS1cMbxHGm75K5inCBpVHrsxCKe3Cux62Lol5aMuwVAmiM_Hfw_D8CJgdcdagpq3WtxT2d7PJUnRLP2AVXc_/s1600/logo.png" /></a></div>
After much anticipation, the details of the 2013 Cortona Mix Festival were unveiled a few days ago. Some of the events will include pop group Elio e Le Storie Tese and musician, Max Weinberg, cortonese citizen and historic member of the E Street Band, plus many more. The website seems to be updated often and new names and events added. <a href="http://www.mixfestival.it/">www.mixfestival.it</a> It is new and exciting and we're looking to see what unfolds.<br />
<br />
At closing day of Cortona Mix Festival last year , facts and figures were in and evaluation of the success of the event was made on the streets, in the stores, in the newspapers. It is said that there was an attendance of 10,000 visitors and sales of some 4,000 tickets to the various events. It was hard when examining the first bits of news about the program what the aim and purpose of Cortona mix was. Feltrinelli later published on its site that CORTONA MIX FESTIVAL represents a different idea of festival, and I paraphrase: a event created to banish the isolation of the arts and instead celebrate their mix, their richness and variety and invent new inspiration by bringing them together. If this was the goal, then I have to say it was a success. Street musicians, ballet, jazz, classical music, literary events and cinema. Even politics had its place (as it always seems to in Italy) when the Minister of Labor, Elsa Fornero came to speak to a very agitated crowd, as her role in recent dramatic labor law reforms render her a controversial figure. The people participated, Cortonese and non-Cortonese alike. In most cases it was by happenstance that people participated, but people were engaged. Feltrinelli opened a satellite bookstore well furnished with books both in Italian and other languages. It was enriching on many levels. <br />
But more than anything else, people were present and participating. The squares were buzzing with activity, the town came alive. On the heels of the Cortona Mix Festival was a series of concerts organized by Gli Amici della Musica and the Annual International Folk Dance Festival all riding out the wave of the excitement created by the previous events. It was Cortona at it's best-people out and about, enjoying the city and maybe gathering some food for thought. <br />
Probably one of the events which was most enjoyed by all was the projection of Modern Times with Charlie Chaplin with original accompanying music performed live by the Orchestra Regionale della Toscana. A delightful event for young and old.<br />
This year, they are proposing a similar event with the projection in the square of Metropolis by Friz Lang.<br />
Last year's festival was accessible to many and this I hope will continue to be the spirit of this event. Nothing was more touching than to see many of our aspiring ballerinas have the possibility to attend an event with family, dance in the audience as they watched enthralled and maybe their parents understood a little better what passion for the art of dancing could become.<br />
Welcome back Cortona Mix Festival- show us how to dream!Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-60190166773533326982013-05-26T09:46:00.000-07:002013-05-28T02:05:38.751-07:00Let the Games Begin!<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBcQbOIK6i1P2sHxWQJTp7EFPxs2vJhIPFM7wQqX5V72GCEYQFrFnJD2IkE5FTrqlzlGlRMUaKDtKc_AnV9e0v9Hvtaop7TlXQm3o_NZYfgVw5RVXO-qkIqJ4WY_grRKx8t3njrvO/s1600/jester.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBcQbOIK6i1P2sHxWQJTp7EFPxs2vJhIPFM7wQqX5V72GCEYQFrFnJD2IkE5FTrqlzlGlRMUaKDtKc_AnV9e0v9Hvtaop7TlXQm3o_NZYfgVw5RVXO-qkIqJ4WY_grRKx8t3njrvO/s320/jester.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7OBFgdU2pVoEnh4aZ8Xp4c2wztOgF09g7NaQdrDvqtglHeU3Cs99j5x_HS9lB8bVeZe9n84rqoAjqu9nPnO7xKBXKctCcXnMccFyX8qE7Hm-jeAEVYqljp2EeO5D3fU2cxPmM4APj/s1600/archidado+bimbi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7OBFgdU2pVoEnh4aZ8Xp4c2wztOgF09g7NaQdrDvqtglHeU3Cs99j5x_HS9lB8bVeZe9n84rqoAjqu9nPnO7xKBXKctCcXnMccFyX8qE7Hm-jeAEVYqljp2EeO5D3fU2cxPmM4APj/s320/archidado+bimbi.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
June 1-9, will be the next series of festivities to celebrate a historic event from 1397, the marriage between the nobleman Francesco Casali of Cortona to Antonia Salimbeni, member of the prestigious family of Siena responsible for founding the oldest operating bank in the world (Monte dei Paschi di Siena founded in 1472). </div>
<div align="left" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
The "New World" where I was born was not discovered until 20 years later, or so it was drummed into my head in grammar school!</div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIfwBzUkxYQWQrUNt5A9D-jSYDTrpx-RkJ7HfJBT0o12Bh1RlmpRTF-viYQ4OhFLOpxO2F1Oq8VEIDvHEB-9aILX3j-XhkVrvdtF8IVeK1lNXzCgRURPfdJ3fycxQff_-ZbEc3bm2/s1600/corteo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIfwBzUkxYQWQrUNt5A9D-jSYDTrpx-RkJ7HfJBT0o12Bh1RlmpRTF-viYQ4OhFLOpxO2F1Oq8VEIDvHEB-9aILX3j-XhkVrvdtF8IVeK1lNXzCgRURPfdJ3fycxQff_-ZbEc3bm2/s320/corteo.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a>When I look out the bed and breakfast windows at Via Nazionale, I cannot fathom how many people have streamed by this building. Since at least the 1600's people have observed this street from our windows! And before then? It is still called la "Rugapiana" today, the "flat street", as it is a natural promenade along the "decumano" or main East-West road following the Roman tradition of urban planning. Cortona can trace its origins as a civic center under the Etruscans to at least 750 BC, with traces of Umbran settlements on Via Dardano as early as 900 BC! </div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGJzUEuKyMeqO1jGgWKGyKPpcpHd7T_WpdrLDXAV-o94npyaBpOrMcc-TkjIawlOQHjc3yCHZ81RyPDNpGa6R4AOjUaYAQ-FypvWv9TnhRsWSRPG-RhewqIhHYc4YWMN_3w7SHn9I/s1600/dame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGJzUEuKyMeqO1jGgWKGyKPpcpHd7T_WpdrLDXAV-o94npyaBpOrMcc-TkjIawlOQHjc3yCHZ81RyPDNpGa6R4AOjUaYAQ-FypvWv9TnhRsWSRPG-RhewqIhHYc4YWMN_3w7SHn9I/s320/dame.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTk-fOV7QZ7Sg5jsQmMlGi3tBm7icM9QsNKe_OAJheq3pcFRFJ9xaE-MsUhVLcNBZ6Avb_o0okFREsv_Ti4cBW5KoKed1pLt515ZtzaeJ-_6oaGIFD2hqx_ygv6gtn26MSdo-roQDO/s1600/matilde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTk-fOV7QZ7Sg5jsQmMlGi3tBm7icM9QsNKe_OAJheq3pcFRFJ9xaE-MsUhVLcNBZ6Avb_o0okFREsv_Ti4cBW5KoKed1pLt515ZtzaeJ-_6oaGIFD2hqx_ygv6gtn26MSdo-roQDO/s320/matilde.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
It is no wonder that there is such a sense of civic pride which seems to have spread to many of our young people as well. The reinactment of this historical event comes alive with the bugles and drums of our historic musical group and animated by the colorful flags which are tossed and juggled by the flag throwers. Traditionally, these musicians and flag throwers were young men, but our Cortona group seems to have many female members now who seem to dominate in number, shine in skill. Locals as well as many "new locals" from the large expat community participate in the celebrations. The enthusiam is contagious. Even our Daisy can't resist getting in the act!</div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpsTZ6C4_BvxlLlZWGEvrD_c2b2Z5zElQukC2rviDuuxTR9k79L1c-8xoAZ2kqENnkBTKerjmXxKAfOHziHEXl57jQK4VFLCtLUygjuQG3tn22ufg2aBCvOz7UM304xmn9MkBgIKH/s1600/bea+and+daisy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMpsTZ6C4_BvxlLlZWGEvrD_c2b2Z5zElQukC2rviDuuxTR9k79L1c-8xoAZ2kqENnkBTKerjmXxKAfOHziHEXl57jQK4VFLCtLUygjuQG3tn22ufg2aBCvOz7UM304xmn9MkBgIKH/s320/bea+and+daisy.jpg" width="240" ya="true" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<br />Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-77929766856679504052012-07-11T04:18:00.000-07:002012-07-11T04:18:00.532-07:00Non Tutti al Mare! Not everyone's at the Beach!Traditionally summer for Italians means a trip to the seaside. This ritual is considered a neccessary pilgrimage as an insurance for good health during the rest of the year. Bathing in the seawater and in the sun are commonly believed to prevent and heal a myriad of ailments from skin conditions to chronic colds in the winter. If this is true or not is not really important as the ritual itself.
At one time many Italians were away from the big cities for a great part of summer. This meant that cities became wastelands in the summer months with businesses and stores closing for a month leaving tourists with scarce services. This is no longer true. Times have changed. The Mom and Pop stores are fewer and farther between and it is difficult to find places that close for a month these days.
Cities are starting to organize events to fill the summer months for children and adults. In Cortona we have "campi solari" with sports and activities for children at the city palestra, every year the MAEC museum organizes children's day activities to make the museum's historic pieces come alive. Our swimming pool in the park should be opening again shortly and the piazza is buzzing with activities day and night. Lots of free entertainment to be had, both high and maybe not so high brow. Right now the Festa di Musica Sacra is underway with concerts throughout the different churches of town by local and visiting choirs. Last night St. Georges School choir of England gave a lovely concert in San Domenico.
On Sunday, July 15th, there will be another free performance of the Symphonic Orchestra and choir of Arezzo conducted by visiting virtuoso conductor Anthony Archaini in Teatro Signorelli at 9:15 pm.
We are looking forward to the new Cortona Mix festival. This arts festival which is organized by the Regione of Tuscany, Province of Arezzo, Comune of Cortona along with Feltrinelli Editors is promising to provide quality entertainment from July 28th -August 5th.
We are proud to be supporters again of the second edition of "Cortona on the Move" International Photography workshops and exhibitions. Professional photographers as well as novice and hobbyists will come together to study or show examples of their work and share knowledge. For the occassion many spaces which are usually closed to the public have been opened to make exhibits around the city and provide glimpses into hidden treasures of the city off the beaten path.Photographers of international fame in journalism or for their artistic works will transform these spaces into provocative experiences.
Summer is the time when Cortona comes alive both day and night. Don't be fooled into believing there's nothing going on-Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-74167798548842026362012-06-28T14:39:00.004-07:002012-07-01T03:36:02.440-07:00That Black and White Ball-Forza Azzurri!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qbJBNODs5F0tFdwT4AMA3tzGh4-Auto5pMtx2ouwq8tCbaZTtMJTXyfa1ApYNlDuoW2-cF4GYl3qAVL1LBjSo0Vu33BrP03vGlObRly2LqGIMLBBFtYDYE5CL-CtEIqZPOXh0JgI/s1600/Paolina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qbJBNODs5F0tFdwT4AMA3tzGh4-Auto5pMtx2ouwq8tCbaZTtMJTXyfa1ApYNlDuoW2-cF4GYl3qAVL1LBjSo0Vu33BrP03vGlObRly2LqGIMLBBFtYDYE5CL-CtEIqZPOXh0JgI/s400/Paolina.jpg" /></a></div>(Foto da Monia Magari)
Italy's victory tonight over the German team secures them a place in finals of the Campionato Europeo di Calcio! They'll be going up against Spain on Sunday. If you have ever been in Italy when the Azzurri are playing it's sure to be a memory that will always shape that trip. The energetic buzz the day of the game, the tricolor flags on display. More flags are flown during a national soccer game than any government holiday I can think of. The bars fill up with folks who want to experience the agony and the ecstasy of the game together. In these modern days of Maxi-schermi, Maxi-screens, bars in the squares set up a screen so that revellers, i tifosi, can come to cheer the team on.
When a goal is scored the roar of the crowd can be heard from the piazzas, the open windows of houses cooling off from the hot sunny days, horns from passing cars, trumpets sound; it surpasses Superbowl Sunday at my jock relative's house. The energy charges through the air, prickles up the the hair on my skin, sends goosebumps up my arms.
In this year of government uncertainty, economic challenge, radical taxation and pension changes, natural disaster, it seemed that people needed this experience more than ever. As the cars zoom up and down the Via Nazionale, honking horns, waving flags, celebrating, it seems like it is more of a sense relief. Italia still has it, tonight it was David to the Goliath of Germany's favored team, it beat the odds and came out on top. Maybe this is what everyone needed to feel tonight. That Italia can win, no matter what the odds are that are stacked against it. Tonight Italy is celebrating being winners-Watch out Spain!Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-87963216061044009722012-05-14T08:22:00.003-07:002012-05-14T10:42:28.678-07:00Don't Be Afraid to Dream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrMEtCnI8bkcMn02t7DNnUHyH8pwyaCkiVDvPQ8XqmeGem6C9OQr4KHEZ2zc2y8j7WV2c30wgCAO3mfvVgc2Y__ameX22xhFGgCD6S_ToBotCGkVgkQh0Vd1SGaqnhNgDxL9XEi_k/s1600/Image0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="279" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOrMEtCnI8bkcMn02t7DNnUHyH8pwyaCkiVDvPQ8XqmeGem6C9OQr4KHEZ2zc2y8j7WV2c30wgCAO3mfvVgc2Y__ameX22xhFGgCD6S_ToBotCGkVgkQh0Vd1SGaqnhNgDxL9XEi_k/s400/Image0013.JPG" /></a></div>
Here is a long overdue tribute to my mom. Maybe this means I am growing up a bit. Despite our differences over the years I must say that my mom has always encouraged me to dream big, to reach far and I guess that's why Casa Chilenne exists today.
She grew up in the depth of the Great Depression, 1 of 8 children and numerous cousins and relatives all under the care of my grandparents struggling to eke out a living by farming in the Sacramento Valley towns of Fairfield-Suisun in Northern California. As can be imagined times were tough, yet, when she created her own family she never stopped encouraging my sister, my brother and myself to be the best we could be. Sometimes it was a heavy load, but usually it was a reminder to us that we could achieve and excel (if only we would do as she says!).
Her personal dreams seemed to be all invested in her children, which can feel like a heavy burden at times. However, as years pass and the space between us has become an ocean and a nation wide, I realize that her dreams are noble though cumbersome-she wants her children to be happy, well cared for and to have them want for nothing. She has always supported our dreams both morally and many times financially so I guess I must say that a great part of our success is hers.
So here's to you MOM! Our travels together might have been a bit bumpy at times, but I can't think of anyone who could take your place. Thanks for encouraging and believing in me and my dreams. Love you!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdaeEApgNIhTexkPZOcR6YUE5kUhErB-3l_Aq-f_LioDdgKIpg-yXo9c7KFRG_f5c2YAtJevVElqG20QH7DtyKCXKn58RBvMZqJNR_us_0rwM167Bzq6GgCqwTMk5kuadQD6PrYfM6/s1600/christmas+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="299" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdaeEApgNIhTexkPZOcR6YUE5kUhErB-3l_Aq-f_LioDdgKIpg-yXo9c7KFRG_f5c2YAtJevVElqG20QH7DtyKCXKn58RBvMZqJNR_us_0rwM167Bzq6GgCqwTMk5kuadQD6PrYfM6/s400/christmas+2011.jpg" /></a></div>Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-17288091387941815942012-05-03T01:38:00.000-07:002012-05-03T03:04:32.774-07:00I Scream, You Scream!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AXsPZ8eLBCXzmj9OJsW7U1807YA8ewRQPrlXHTKOgz6NdkL59Mao5aILZ6b9SQYuzBoc_JCH8b5Mr7It1KBlhiq1cZLEkqw4AVd_yqt6I5U4cFehHI9JORRvzdE1ynMV6xeqhDAB/s1600/Quitti+Ice+cream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8AXsPZ8eLBCXzmj9OJsW7U1807YA8ewRQPrlXHTKOgz6NdkL59Mao5aILZ6b9SQYuzBoc_JCH8b5Mr7It1KBlhiq1cZLEkqw4AVd_yqt6I5U4cFehHI9JORRvzdE1ynMV6xeqhDAB/s400/Quitti+Ice+cream.jpg" /></a></div>
We know that the Bella Stagione has arrived when we start seeing ice creams on the street again-especially gelati being consumed by Italians. They say that the Romans invented this tasty treat, bringing in snow from the mountain tops and mixing together with fruits to make this tasty treat. We have two gelateria at present with rumors of another one on the way, plus, the seasonal gelati created by Gianni Banchelli for his family's Pasticceria Banchelli and Cocoa Chocolatier/Patisserie which features artisan gelati in the summer. The offerings of the types and styles of gelato change from place to place. Some favor the Florentine style which concentrates on creamy flavors where as the Sicilian style seems to concentrate more on the icier, sorbet-style and the Venetian style coming somewhere in-between. Snoopy gelateria in Piazza Signorelli tends to be of the creamier variety, Dolce Vita, just two doors down from us has a variety of imaginative flavors using candy bars or cookies for inspiration as well as venturing this year into creating gourmet versions of popsicles (ice lollies) and other ice creams on a stick. Banchelli,( now located at their new larger shop at the end of Via Nazionale near town hall) on the other hand, creates high quality gelati with some unusual ingredients like Green Tea, or his creation Crema Etrusca as well as ice cream cakes or semi freddi. Cocoa of course has an offering of delicious chocolate as well as classic gelatos at their shop on Via Guelfa.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZAfti8wVlk_0aIDoo3EbQ-JT-sOIBUzcJtelfn-zyaVTM4xjBjUk3lhEMeT5KaEqCLBO740120TW0k6nLXVsdvTCafNdCZ_2EPXJS844ewL__AnE2fQM0FsrV3TuTar_V_UyEkrq/s1600/icecream1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJZAfti8wVlk_0aIDoo3EbQ-JT-sOIBUzcJtelfn-zyaVTM4xjBjUk3lhEMeT5KaEqCLBO740120TW0k6nLXVsdvTCafNdCZ_2EPXJS844ewL__AnE2fQM0FsrV3TuTar_V_UyEkrq/s400/icecream1.jpg" /></a></div>
So many choices, I always recommend that the quality of all our gelaterias require a careful taste testing during your stay! Nocciola (hazelnut), Zabaione (italian egg nog), Malaga (rum raisin), Stracciatella (a fancy name for chocolate chip!) and of course Cioccolato (chocolate), Fragola (strawberry), Crema (vanilla egg custard), Fiordilatte (vanilla), are just a few of the classic choices, without forgetting Caffe and many of the fruits of summer from peach (pesca), watermelon (anguria o cocomero), pineapple (ananas), limone...the list can go on and on!
When overwhelmed by all the choices, I can't help but long for a hot summer day at my Aunt Pat's house in Suisun, California-turning the hand-crank of an ice cream freezer, with melting ice cooling me and my cousins off as we sprinkle rock salt and fight over licking the dasher of the best flavor ever, plain old vanilla!
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42bBPon6aRAoBMW_-8JdHveQjjRNobVU1am_Cxh3FXA57V8KvfCR1DsvElomflU5Q5Mof24kT8EBERiPodJ9Yaf5r-kiiwgBrvOpS899XIWAKyqDutNlR67BQnnGE03kaSvXOWc1u/s1600/ice+cream+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi42bBPon6aRAoBMW_-8JdHveQjjRNobVU1am_Cxh3FXA57V8KvfCR1DsvElomflU5Q5Mof24kT8EBERiPodJ9Yaf5r-kiiwgBrvOpS899XIWAKyqDutNlR67BQnnGE03kaSvXOWc1u/s400/ice+cream+3.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Dxr0U3wNllwdqpIeL3r2gNURD-bcukyD2sYSsqxKdl9xMJnoSqCZJ48_MNA4z5lhflL3lE4yYG6Yu0btfrHgsl_EHoeNi1hWx0RSODTRtu0IQx_QQ2Y6WO1eiqepb6O2Svwljr6D/s1600/ice+cream+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="240" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Dxr0U3wNllwdqpIeL3r2gNURD-bcukyD2sYSsqxKdl9xMJnoSqCZJ48_MNA4z5lhflL3lE4yYG6Yu0btfrHgsl_EHoeNi1hWx0RSODTRtu0IQx_QQ2Y6WO1eiqepb6O2Svwljr6D/s400/ice+cream+2.jpg" /></a></div>Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-29707866023760110242012-04-29T13:42:00.000-07:002012-06-06T23:32:50.107-07:00Forgiveness<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zdQniD-WAbU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
The April 25th Liberation Day holiday was celebrated and ushered in with the usual fanfare of our city's marching band and the ever present bass drum beat of Gastone. Daisy always gets excited when she hears the band and insistently barks and hops up on a chair to let us know she wants to watch from our window.
It was an interesting and thought provoking Liberation day for us because we had two guests in the house who were on a special mission. Writer/giornalist Alessandro Eugeni was a guest in our house. In January he had come to Cortona accompanied by a small group of citizens from the Germany, to present a book which he wrote "Il Falegname di Ottobrunn" which documented a tragedy of war inflicted on a small community near Falzano a small community in Cortona County. The Germans who accompanied him were from the town of Ottobrunn.
At the end of June 1944, after encounters with partisan groups in the area, the German troops marching through the area led by Major Herbert Stommel captured and imprisoned 12 civilians in a farmhouse which under his orders was barricaded and set on fire. Only one adolescent boy survived when a collapsed beam shielded his body, though he was badly burned and remembers "playing dead" when the soldiers returned to the rubble to finish off the victims with rounds of gun fire. This chilling war time crime led to trials against Mr. Stommel and his second in command Josef Scheungraber in Munich which concluded in a life sentence for Mr. Scheungraber, known as "the Carpenter of Ottobrunn" in 2009. The sentence was suspended as it was judged that Mr. Scheungraber was mentally incapacitated and Mr. Stommel was never tried for the same reasons. The sentencing was significant however, because it was the first time in the history of Nazi-Fascist war crime trials that the Italian and German courts sent down the same verdict.
In the interest of paving a path to forgiveness, Mr. Eugeni accompanied the parish priest of the town of Ottobrunn to Cortona for the 25th of April. Father Christoph Nobs arrived to serve a mass on this day of Liberation and the feast day of the city at the Church of San Marco to honor the dead and take the first steps in healing this old wound.
Perhaps this was a day of liberation from bitter memories left from this horrific period in the world's history; a chance to remember and re-dedicate one's self to the idea of Liberation from war.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0AOSLxBa-NxfmiV8ELBdJnWPbC8hAkZADm5USQqNghO4W0BSA3Eb7Ubvdf19TYTRJlWXz-eZM8-fj-A4YwFO7aaEmUk81e3aDu3Mg3mKbSiybBE66LXTS5_D5-ipA152H6AdvJiC/s1600/Eugeni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0AOSLxBa-NxfmiV8ELBdJnWPbC8hAkZADm5USQqNghO4W0BSA3Eb7Ubvdf19TYTRJlWXz-eZM8-fj-A4YwFO7aaEmUk81e3aDu3Mg3mKbSiybBE66LXTS5_D5-ipA152H6AdvJiC/s320/Eugeni.jpg" /></a></div>Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-776966283078592870.post-21068777293314340682012-04-12T12:05:00.002-07:002012-04-27T09:16:14.298-07:00Another Artisan in ParadiseThis is a blog entry which lay in the drafts section for nearly a year. Although it is late, and much time has gone by since Maurizio's passing, I wanted to publish this all the same.
Cortona is undergoing changes, but we musn't lose sight of the people past and present who have made the city what it is today.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvP4_qWiQpX1nNIvWDXFvgwdUK3eij1g9Js0fZ570cGn5ZYTV3juN9pBoVosiGGfQS2RDjKSKNl07XOCC7RfWfV_EK4wfan-YfoGK8rRLRo2WwshQ-zKCmpqi9W-_L9Xn7qGxdRCc/s1600/IMG_0288%255B1%255D" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvP4_qWiQpX1nNIvWDXFvgwdUK3eij1g9Js0fZ570cGn5ZYTV3juN9pBoVosiGGfQS2RDjKSKNl07XOCC7RfWfV_EK4wfan-YfoGK8rRLRo2WwshQ-zKCmpqi9W-_L9Xn7qGxdRCc/s400/IMG_0288%255B1%255D" /></a></div>
When we tell the story of Casa Chilenne to our guests we can't help but emphasize the important role our local artisans had in creating the cozy atmosphere here. Luciano and Jeanette knew they wanted to create a place for guests in Cortona which would feel like a home away from home, that would have the modern comforts which make a holiday less stressful and at the same time enhance and recover the charm of their historical house. This vision was made possible by the men and women artisans who took on the job with enthusiasm as they proudly took part in making Casa Chilenne a place which they felt would showcase their historic craftmenship. From plumber and electrician, painters and carpenters, all seemed to really care that their work shined through as Cortonese workmanship.
<br /> These artisans or "artigiani" are the treasures of Cortona. Once numerous they have dwindled away and alas, we had to bid farewell yesterday to Maurizio Baracchi the carpenter in charge of making all our doors and windows, personally creating and fitting the arched window cases and door in our breakfast room, all the fittings of the doors and windows through the house. Maurizio was a no nonsense kind of man, an avid bird and boar hunter who worked diligently just down an alley from us in a workshop by the wall of San Sebastiano. He was always available to come to the rescue to remediate injuries to his work, usually caused by guests unfamiliar with they way windows and doors work in Italy. He could be found in his workshop filled with sawdust and wood shavings as he worked on his machinery there in the company of his hunting dog.
<br /> One of the greatest honors we have had is to work with individuals like Maurizio who have a pride in their work which goes deeper than personal skill and monetary gain. It is as if they are a link in the chain which traces back to their predecessors who originally created our centuries old buildings with heavy oak or walnut doors and bronze fittings; those with the knowlege to maintain the creations of their ancestors.
Ciao Maurizio-we already miss you, but we know there's a special place for carpenters in Heaven.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__Jy6gdtQnP4a2fRvEowDr6qMafGcFf0s0BBTj4r8Ysvnm4en7ZzEPOSosWyXxHVk-T-vJb1zgJf_Ow31GwcXwx3F9MmY24wo1mnNef7d8O0Toa23_tK8piWQ51NBkjyUN-I-5fDj/s1600/IMG_0289%255B1%255D" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__Jy6gdtQnP4a2fRvEowDr6qMafGcFf0s0BBTj4r8Ysvnm4en7ZzEPOSosWyXxHVk-T-vJb1zgJf_Ow31GwcXwx3F9MmY24wo1mnNef7d8O0Toa23_tK8piWQ51NBkjyUN-I-5fDj/s320/IMG_0289%255B1%255D" /></a></div>Carlottahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03847136657396792168noreply@blogger.com0