THE EFFECTS OF TOO MUCH GRAPPA
If you don't know what Grappa is let me tell you. It's fire in a bottle, a lethal intoxicant at120 proof and the next closest thing to Everclear. It's killer. It was the final competition at last night's dinner seeing who had the balls or stomach to endure the most without passing out. I think our daughter won but it was the reason no one in our family managed to roll out of bed until noon on the day after. It was also why today became a day of rest. It is my understanding that Sunday is traditionally a day where no work is to be done and since it was also Mother's Day we were not going to go against tradition.
The weather today was more like what we were hoping for: warmer, a light breeze and a few early afternoon showers of refreshing rain. There was no plan to go out for lunch and no plan to go hill town hopping or sight seeing of any kind.
Instead we all pooled together what we could pull out of our frigs and cabinets. We succeeded in coming up with a lunch of prosciutto and melon, cheeses and meats, a green salad and what remained of the tarts Stefania had made as a welcoming present in each of our apartments. That pesky rain I mentioned before was the only uncooperative element. We had originally decided to set the table in the upper apartment thinking it was going to be too cool to eat outside but very quickly we realized it was warmer out in the sun than it was in apartment. Everyone picked up a plate and we all trotted out to the outdoor dining area with the view of the pool and the hills beyond.
No sooner did we get the table set than the rain came, softly but enough to make us decide we should move into the covered patio more to protect the food than ourselves. Of course, by the time we had all reached the veranda the rain stopped and the sun was out. This time we all decided to leave the food where it was, fix our own plates and go back to sitting by the pool. No one can say we're not flexible in our dotage.
A couple of bottles of wine and the plan for dinner settled everyone was ready for a nap and that's what we did.
The Saraceni's had gone to Siena for Mother's Day but they returned right after we had finished our lunch. Stefania is Emmy's adopted Italian mother. Emmy's connection to Stefania has always been palpable. There's something about a girl with two fathers. She's blessed with an entire batch of surrogate mothers. Stefania is one of Emmy's and one of her favorites.
Emmy made sure Stefania knew how much she meant to her. She had gone and bought a beautiful hydrangea and attached a note she penned in Italian that voiced her love. Stefania, with only two sons, was touched by the flowers, the note and the love from her American daughter.
That night we treated the Saraceni's to dinner, each of us supplying an element for the dinner of parpadelle with mushrooms, caprese salad, and what tiramisu that was left over from the night before.
At the end of dinner Stefania told us about a fireworks celebration in Montalcino commemorating the mother of all mothers, the Virgin Mary. Adam, Roby, Eric and I hopped in the car and off we went hoping for a good view and a trip to the gelateria, Why Not, as an added bonus. We almost reached the top of the hill in Montalcino before a police car lights flashing stood in our way of making it all the way to the castle and the fireworks. They had blocked access in and out of the town until the fireworks were over but they let us turn our car around, get out and watch the fireworks from the side of the road. It was a pretty good view, if it had come with a scoop of stracciatella gelato on a wafer cone it would have been the perfect end to an evening in Tuscany.
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