The breakfast talk was an overview of the Medici family and their contributions to Florence and the world. Between banking, raising Popes-to-be and being patrons of the arts, the world would be a much sadder and unenriched place.
Day two of our culinary fest with Diana started at the Mercato Centrale, where we strolled through the stalls and purchased out groceries and meats before heading back to her house for more recipes.
Preparing today, we have:
zuppa toscana di fagioli – tuscan bean soup
pappa al pomodoro – tomato and bread soup
cecina – flatbread with garbanzo bean flour
tuscan ragu with tagliatelle– soffritto, veal/ pork/ beef with pancetta, parsley and tomato puree
panzanella – bread and tomato salad
pomodoro ripieni -stuffed tomatoes with garlic, parmesan, breadcrumbs, basil, oregano, oil
pollo al marsala e peperoni rossi – marsala chicken with red peppers
fritelle di riso – fried rice balls
Soffritto is the term for the cooking triumvirate of carrots, celery and onion, by the way.
Again, an absolute feast! There was a little more liberal winetasting going on during the chopping stage and I started to worry if we were going to lose appendages in the process, but everyone survived intact. I think that it's Valentines Day everyone is feeling the spirit of love flowing through them and they are rather loose today. For me, not so much.
Afterward, the peeps went souvenir shopping in the open-air markets at San Lorenzo and I went back to the hotel. They all arrived at my hotel room door two hours later, presenting me with a rose and bottle of prosecco for a valentine offering. How sweet!
They are having dinner on their own at La Reggia Degli Estruschi, taking cabs up to Fiesole on the outskirts of the city, up in the hills overlooking Florence.
I knew I wasn't especially hungry, between stewing about the phonecall last night and all the food for lunch at Diana's, but I needed to pick something up to tide me over until breakfast. I saw them off in the cabs and walked around the corner to 13 Gobbi for some “peposo” - a thick, stick to your ribs, peppery stew. I asked for an order “per portare” - for takeaway. The hotel's room service kitchen would allow me to heat it up later on. Trade secret for tour operators in the know.
I settled in for a marathon viewing of “The Wire” on the computer. How did I miss this show when it was on HBO??? It's very addicting.
I received a call from Marco, and dreaded picking it up. What now? But it was an apology. He had thought about it and realized it was outrageous to ask this of me. He would just have to make Donatella understand some other way. I offered to cook for the three of them Tuesday evening. Come over to my house at 8pm. Bring them over so I can meet her. He sounded hesitant for sure, and I promised there would be no poisonings. I'm not Catherine di Medici, after all.
I felt better after the call. He was wrong. I win, just for that concession. And with that, I ate my peposo and enjoyed it.
Donatella and I may never be friends, and my friendship with him may end up falling away as a result of that, but nobody is going to dictate to me that I can't see Mamma.
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