Under the (Scorching) Tuscan Sun

It has been long on my list of places to experience.  Just the imagery conjured up by the name...TUSCANY...  In my mind's eye, I envisioned sweeping vistas of rolling Tuscan hills dotted with Cypress trees, vineyards, and olive groves.  I imagined classic Etruscan architecture, the simple grandeur of organic structures born of naturally hewn stone, terra cotta, travertine glowing an ochre coloured light.

We rented a villa with Canadian friends outside of the village of Anghiari about a half-hour from Arezzo bordering Tuscany and Umbria.  It was at the very top of one of my imagined Tuscan hills.  About 10 minutes, straight up a dusty, winding, hot trail ending at our villa with the dreamed-of spectacular view south over Umbria. 

I had also imagined that it would be hot and boy was that an understatement.  The temperature hovered between 37 and 40 degrees celsius everyday, phew.  Thank goodness for the beautiful pool at our villa.  We couldn't keep Murphy out of it,  she was the first in everyday and swam laps around us for hours.

It was too steamy to daytrip much or venture too far afield.  Instead we lounged poolside reading, swimming with the kids, wandering the surrounding olive and fig groves looking for Scorpions and Lizards.  Late in the afternoon, we would sit under the Wisteria and Jasmine pergola drinking ice cold white wine, eating pears and parmesan, and melon and prosciutto.

C2 and I left J happily with our friends and their son Tomas one day and took a train north to Florence.  We had an adult-only culture date and we revelled in the beauty of this lovely renaissance city.  We wandered over the Ponte Vecchio to the Pitti Palace, marvelled at the wonder of the Duomo, and stared in amazement at the open air sculptures of the Palazzo Vecchio.

We discovered a little out of the way restaurant near the Uffizi Museum populated by locals and had a wonderful lunch of braesola, fresh crisp salad, strachietelli mozzarella (the result of the first skimming of the cheese and unlike anything we had ever tasted before), and a gorgeous glass of Chianti.  We drooped with the heat by the time we returned anxious to plunge into our delicious pool.

Most evenings, we lingered either on the sun-drenched kitchen terrace or under the cooler pergola eating pizza made in our own pizza oven, or taking pleasure in C2's or Jon's wonderful cooking.  Long evenings spent in the laughter of our children, listening to the Cigales (Cicadas) song, drinking Super Tuscans or rich Chiantis, and talking and talking.

We explored the medieval village of Anghiari thoroughly, letting the kids lead us through the old castle walls, seeking out secret passages where they could find them, and rewarding them with granita or gelato.  We wondered at the lives of the people living behind the colourful shutters or in the tiny houses up the winding stairs.  Our imaginations and curiousity were on full alert.

We also wandered the Tuscan jewel that is Arezzo sitting high on a hill rising up from the Arno River valley.  Arezzo was empty of tourists perhaps kept away by the killer heat or by the killer economic climate. A shame, since it's medieval core was an unexpected delight and its' cathedral or duomo, the most stunning I have seen outside of St. Peter's in Rome.

Our children had a wondrous adventure, our empty tanks got filled, our curiosity satiated, and our palates more than pleased.   We reluctantly bid arrivederci to Tuscany and returned home for a few days.  Happily, we head back to our beloved Italia shortly when we make our annual pilgramage to the beach town of Levanto.

Culture Clash

For us North American expats, lunchtime is an interesting anthropological study. For example, lunch during the school week is pretty laid back, a tuna sandwich, some fruit, a yogurt are standard fare. On the weekends, we might upgrade the sliced bread to a baguette, and add some cheese and olives. The emphasis on all of the aforementioned is 'cold lunch'. As in most Canadian households, dinner is the hot meal.

Not so in Geneva! Lunch is the big meal of the day and it's usually multiple courses. Salad and bread, followed by soup, a hot meal, and dessert. And never never never is milk offered as a drink, no it's always l'eau de robinet (tap water) and if you're really lucky sirop, which is a sickly sweet substance added to sweeten the l'eau de robinet.

Consequently, J has learned never to spontaneously invite anyone home for lunch from school. I need at least a day to ensure adequate groceries and time to prepare a large meal. I will never forget when J's copine (girl friend) Olivia looked at the sandwich plunked down in front of her 2 years ago, looked at me and moaned 'mais je ne mange pas des sandwiches pour diner!' (but I don't eat sandwiches for lunch). I was mortified.

So yesterday morning while getting dressed for school, this conversation occured with J:

J: Can I invite a friend for lunch?

Me: Oh sorry bud, I'm going grocery shopping this afternoon, I don't have any food in the house to make a hot meal.

J: Oh, okay. Can Adam come then?

We Canadians gotta stick together eh Cindy?

A Saturday in the Life of the Swiss Family Hendricks

This past Saturday was a rare one with absolutely nothing scheduled. We took advantage of this rarest of occasions by indulging in a few spontaneous activities.

We finally cashed in the 30 CHF bon, J received from promotion last June at a bookshop in Plainpalais. He chose a book on planet earth and the solar system.

Then we went to lunch at our favorite pizza joint, Da Paolo's on rue du lac facing the jet d'eau, sheesh, feels like only yesterday, J and I were sharing a pizza margarita....clearly no more.

We saved the crusts to feed to the swans

After lunch, we spent a couple of carefree hours at 'Baby Plage' on Lake Geneva. It's a bit of a misnomer, but Baby Plage is a charming beach/playpark right on the lakeshore. Its' main attraction is the original swings, tree climbing apparatuses, and bridges all made from recycled bicycle tires. J has never tired of exploring all of it.

This is the old chap that makes all of the swings

We capped off our day with a pot of mussels in our back garden, cooked the way only C2 can and a crisp bottle of Sancerre. It was a really good day.

The Best Love in Life is to Live a Great Life

Or so was our collective assessment after a wonderful day yesterday spent in the company of our Swedish/Dutch friends Elin, Ard and their two kiddos Thomas and Julian.

Early in the day, we drove up to the village of Bernex in the shadow of the Dent d'Oche mountain in the Alps of Haute-Savoie, France. It was a really hot day in a very hot August this year in Geneva and the sun beat down on us from a sky absent of clouds. We started our hike around 11:00 following a twisty rooted shaded track along a river.

Close to 2 hours later, we had gained about 350 meters in elevation, reached the top of our climb and were greeted by a fountain flowing with icy, fresh, delicious Evian water. Bernex is just north of the town famous for its' pricy bottled water, and we were gulping it in by the mouthful. We also had an amazing view down to Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) about 13 kms away. We lingered for a while, enjoying the views, eating wild raspberries, watching the kids and Murphy play.

Eventually, we began our descent and about an hour later arrived at an auberge near the trailhead that beckoned us like an oasis in the desert. Hot, thirsty, hungry, and tired, we were seated at a table under fragrant baskets of flowers and protected by broad leafy branches.

Glasses of ice-cold beer were quickly delivered - heaven! We spent a delightfully memorable 3-hours in this garden paradise eating fluffy omelettes prepared with French perfection, spicy boeuf tartare, and chevre chaud salads. All the while, our kids connected with other children at the stream that bubbled alongside the restaurant, and Murphy snored under our table.

We eventually and reluctantly left around 5:00, returned to Elin and Ard's house in Anthy-sur-Leman and cooled off with an early evening swim in lac Leman followed by a late barbeque. We spent the day in the company of our family, our dog, and good friends. We explored part of this magnificent region we are blessed to live in, and we ate with gusto surrounded by splendour. What else do you need in life?

Summer Means Pesto and Lots of It

Drying the basil

We're preparing to leave this Saturday for a week of fun and sun in our favorite Italian beach town of Levanto. Levanto is in the region of Liguria, perhaps most well-know for it's port town of Genoa and the spectacular heritage site of Cinque Terre, but for us, it's all about being in the birthplace of pesto!

The Hendricks family are serious pesto afficianados. No jarred pesto for us! I first discovered its' pungent deliciousness in my early 20's at a small italian restaurant across the street from my apartment on rue St. Mathieu in Montreal. After C2 and I hooked up, we made regular summer pilgrammages to the largely Italian Jean Talon market to buy armfuls of fragrant basil. We would spend the rest of the day lovingly picking and rinsing the delicate green leaves before making enough quantity to freeze and enjoy all winter long.

We carried the tradition through our years of living in Calgary routing out basil wherever we could find it, and passed our love of it onto our son J. Fortunately, Geneva's markets are full of basil beginning in early July, and this past Sunday, I picked up several bunches at the Ville-la-Grande market. We spent part of a hot afternoon that day making and freezing a couple of months worth. For the record, years ago, we used to be more purist and made our pesto using a mortar and pestle, but now use a food processor which cuts production time dramatically.

Here is our recipe for pesto:

Ingredients:

Several bunches of fresh basil, picked from the stems, rinsed and dried

Several handfuls of pine nuts toasted in a dry pan

6-7 cloves of garlic

3-4 large pinches of coarse sea salt

good olive oil

Add all ingredients except olive oil into a food processor. You may have to do several batches depending upon quantity. Work in small batches if using a mortar and pestle.

Add a little olive oil and pulse food processor a couple of times. Press the on button and add more olive oil from the top feeder until mixture resembles a wet paste. Stop as necessary and push basil stuck to sides of food processor back into mix. Add more salt to taste.

Freeze pesto in ice cube trays for about 8 hours then remove cubes and freeze them in a freezer bag. One or two cubes will do for a dinner for 4-5 people.

Personal Tips:

1. Pesto is best served on a pasta with ridges which better hold the sauce such as penne rigate or farfalle (bows). Add a little of the hot pasta water to the pesto in a large bowl to thin the pesto a bit and mix the cooked pasta directly in same bowl.

2. We do not add parmesan cheese to the original mixture as many recipes call for but rather in copious fresh amounts when serving.

3. Serve with grilled chicken on top.

Transylvania, Kentucky, a Barbeque and a Bottle of Pálinka

What do you suppose the odds are in a tiny Swiss village outside of Geneva, of finding and celebrating a Transylvanian-Kentucky connection? Ha! Well not only did we find it but we turned it into a new tradition - the Transylanian-Kentucky Summer Barbeque.

Ok, to connect the dots...the first dot are my wonderful neighbours Gilles and Ioli who clearly never received the Swiss instruction manual on maintaining a cool reserve toward all foreigners. They are Swiss and Romanian (specifically Transylvanian) and speak French, Romanian and very decent English.

The second dot are a recently-arrived-to-our-village-from Louisville, Kentucky family who moved into the old farmhouse formerly co-occupied by J's favorite clutch of chickens. David is the native-Kentuckian, Lavinia is Romanian (specifically Transylvanian) though she spent many years in Kentucky too. They speak English and Romanian - no French. and have her Romanian-only speaking Grandmother living with them. With me so far?

The last dot are our friends from around the corner Bijoy and Jawahara who are American not-too-recently arrived from California but who were both educated at the University of Kentucky and still have family living in Lexington. They speak only English (plus several other Indian languages). Bijoy has a hankering to go to Transylvania to dig into the history of Vlad the Impaler AKA Dracula. Bijoy's interest was the trigger for our party.

So, last Saturday night, we invited the 3 families including kids, the Romanian-only speaking Grandmother, and Lavinia's Romanian free-spirited father visiting from California over for a barbeque to make merry in 4 languages. We sat outside in the garden sheltered as much as possible from La Bise which was making an unwelcome early summer appearance. We ate classic American/Canadian barbeque including a cherry cobbler made from cherries from our tree and the wine and conversation flowed freely. All that was missing was a Gypsy folk band or a bluegrass banjo.

Gilles introduced a bottle of Pálinka late into the evening. In short, Pálinka is a double-distilled plum brandy and considered the national drink of Transylvania. It is vile, throat-burning, gag-inducing, tongue-loosening, laughter-causing plonk. C2 had 4 of them.

The only downside to the evening? All Romanian eyes rolled when any attempt to discuss Vlad was made. Apparently Romanians view discussing this part of their popular history as distasteful and tiresome. Who knew?

Heaven is THE Perfect Cup of Coffee

Among the many many joys of being a foodie and living in Europe has been experiencing the unparalleled perfection of coffee. In Swiss-Romande (the french-speaking part of Switzerland), one must clearly understand the subtle differences between a café crème, a café au lait, a cappuchino and the revered café renversé in order to get exactly what you want.

The café renversé quickly became my preferred coffee of choice. I believe an actual translation means 'knocked-over coffee', however in short, it is a strong espresso with slightly more heated milk and just a touch of crema. Crema being that delicate foam that forms at the top of the coffee. My favoured beverage is available at any one of the multitude of obliging cafés and boulangeries around Geneva but the cost over time would require my dipping into a non-existant trust fund. Enter Nespresso, every local barrista's preferred coffee maker and hey, who can resist a company boasting George Clooney as their global spokesperson.

We've been enjoying our Nespresso since our first week in Geneva over 3 years ago, and have valiantly tried to replicate a perfect café renversé by heating up milk in a pot on the stove and/or using a plunging coffee frother but something was always slightly missing. It just didn't taste quite like the ones I ordered at Globus, until one week ago...

C2 recently marked a milestone birthday and our great friends and fellow Montrealers/Calgarians, Nathalie and Marc gifted him with an automated Nespresso milk heater/frother. Globus eat your heart out and keep your 5.00 CHF per cup, given enough of this now perfect brew, I could rule the world.

Leaning Left in Switzerland

Um okay, moving to Switzerland required some shifting in grocery habits and I've been up to the challenge. I can walk by plucked chickens with their heads and feet still attached without making a face like a 6-year old. I have seen fois gras in every shape and size even if I can't eat it anymore out of personal oppositon to the method of gavage...but I digress.

Still, I think this find takes the cake. I found it in my local Migros grocery shop next to the apple juice. I've bought a couple as Christmas gifts for my teenage nephew and niece. Hope their parents and customs don't mind.

The details say "Iced Tea with Swiss Cannabis"..."Fantastic Natural Feeling". I'll bet!

The Dinner Party

I love food. It’s as simple as that and a good thing that I train for triathlons given my epicurean curiosity and pleasure-seeking palate. God bless the Canadian Prairies but they remain, unfortunately, something of a gastronomical wasteland. Europe on the other hand…ah Europe… The boulangeries, the boucheries, the marchés, the auberges, the vineyards, the endless restaurant opportunities. I could carry on ad infinitum but that is fodder for other blogs. This one is all about the dinner party.

C2 and I love to cook almost as much as we love to eat and thankfully most of our friends are comparable foodies. I adore the whole process - the menu planning, the wine pairings, the table setting, the cooking, and of course, the eating. I could, mind you, probably live without the washing up part. We’ve hosted many, some better than others, last evening’s was superb.

We invited Marc and Nat to meet our great friends, Kirk aka “Le Sommelier” and Melissa aka“Mrs. Jamie Oliver”. It’s always a bit dicey when you invite couples to meet for the first time, but this evening was entertaining from start to finish. It began with C2 and Marc getting tipsy on Trappist beer (given to us by friends living in Belgium) even before the appetizers were served and only got better from there.

The food was great, the company wonderful. Here’s the menu and play list for your viewing and listening pleasure:
On the Table
Flammekuche savoyard pizza
Crudités and dar vida flat breads with herbed goat cheese

MOET & CHANDON CHAMPAGNE
ALFRED ROTHSCHILDE CHAMPAGNE

Teriyaki grilled Salmon
Steamed Asian Vegetables scented with freshly grated ginger
Jasmine Rice

MEURSAULT 2005
CHARDONNAY DE BOURGOGNE 2005

Roquette & Endive Salad with shaved Parmesan, toasted Pinenuts and aged Balsamic Vinegar

Tomme de Savoie, Mellun Brie, Chevre cremier, Gruyère, and Roquefort with baguette

RIOJA GRAN RESERVA 1998

Plum, Raspberry and Almond crumble
Lemon Chocolate cake

Play list
Mark Knofler and Emmylou Harris - “All the Roadrunning”
St. Germain - “Tourist”
Michael Bublé - “It’s Time”
Soundtrack from “High Fidelity”

We did go a little later than usual.