Lining up

As is the nature of things, with every peak there is a trough, with every high there is a low and with every action-packed week at La Casa dei Due Baffi there is one of routine mundaneness – such as this last one.

Not that it has been without its excitement, as it’s measured in the arcane world of Monte San Pietrangeli, as we found out on Monday morning when, while doing the shopping, we stopped off at Il Mio Forno pasticceria for a spot of Pugliese bread. While we were at the counter being seduced into adding a few freshly made biscuits to the order, we were distracted by a large white van that drew up on the road outside and which we thought might hamper our getaway. As we watched, some men jumped out, a couple of whom started placing orange cones along the middle of the road while another couple slapped down a giant stencil and began spraying white paint in the rectangular cut out. They were road marking.

Why, you may be wondering, would this be a cause for excitement or comment? The simple answer is that, judging by the ghostly shades that were all that remained of the previous markings, the number of years since they were refreshed would need to be counted not only on your fingers but on your toes as well, and those of a close friend who would not object to such intimacy. I had come to believe that like the absence of speed limit signs, the lack of clear white lines was just another way to keep the average motorist on his toes – either that, or it was a concession to the creative approach many Italians have to the Highway Code (not that I am saying British drivers are a beacon of excellence).

We spotted the workers at various points around the town and its surroundings over the next few days and the results of their labour were quite ubiquitous. I’m sure, too, that this work had been long in the pipeline and that it had nothing whatever to do with the meeting on Wednesday night called by Insieme, the local party that stormed the mayoral elections last year. The meeting was to review, ahead of this year’s elections, what the party had achieved so far and to set out its plans for the future. Well, I wish them every success as they do seem to have made a significant difference to live in MSP, and not just with road markings. Now, I suppose, the next step is to get people to pay attention to them.

Back at LCDDB, sounds of things rustic made themselves felt. From Monday, life has been carried out to the background of a persistent susurration. The cause of this phenomenon, like last year, was the large tree at the corner of the driveway coming into blossom, with small balls of pale ochre hanging amid the leaves. While these may not be the most striking or colourful of flowers, they do seem to be a strong attraction for the local bees, as they have spent the best part of the week hovering round it, buzzing as they take the pollen. These trees must be a rich source for the bees as they have been feasting all week, which we fully support. After all, without them, where would we be?

The bees, though, found themselves drowned out on Wednesday when harvesting of the crops in the fields around the house began. As last year, Mario and Luigi brought in what I assume to be a state of the art combine harvester, which looked more like something that should be excavating the Martian landscape. Clearing of the other field to our left was a little more comfortingly familiar, though this lower tech operation did require much coming and going over the three days it took to garner the wheat (the time frame was stretched, I think, due to a tendency for heavy showers at inopportune moments). The arrival of a white transit van on Friday afternoon caused a bit of a to do when it experienced great difficulty trying to exit up the road. After the second attempt it slowly backed to the bottom so Stephen went out to give the driver a bit of friendly advice: i.e. hit first gear and go like the clappers.

This advice, however, was of little use – which was most odd as all the other vans that venture this way have been able to get up without too much trouble (excepting, of course, when the Carellis were confounded by the ice last February). However, the reason became clear when the driver opened the back doors and Stephen saw that what was inside was a huge tank of agricultural diesel for the harvester. There was little wonder he was unable to conquer the incline pulling against all that weight, and in the end he had to be towed out by tractor. I suppose, though, it adds to the drama and the man himself showed considerable sangfroid about it all as he waited by the baked wheat field and tank of petrol, smoking.

The same day they started harvesting we were slightly puzzled by the appearance of a large JCB that kept going up and down the road. What could this have to do with gathering wheat, we thought. The answer, unsurprisingly, was nothing. It had, in fact, been sent by the Comune to cut back all the growth either side of the road. While we consider this a useful operation, it may have been an idea if the driver hadn’t mowed down the post indicating the location of our outlet pipe as well. Luigi, as ever, was on hand to help Stephen erect a replacement from an old rusty piece of metal topped with the red cap from a used washing liquid container, which fitted very nicely, and half a red t-shirt. We weren’t, though, able to help Luigi when he asked if we had a 10kg hammer, not being aware that this was essential equipment in the average Italian household.

Thursday afternoon we took a trip to Tolentino and Folusci to talk about doors and windows. We had another meeting with the wonderful Sabrina, and explained to her our dilemma regarding the installation of the windows – that now we were having to have work done on shoring up the foundations and securing the walls they would have to wait till this was completed. She fully understood, but we did soften the blow by signing to have the new front door made and installed, which should be done sometime before October, supplies of materials and summer holidays allowing. We are going for a completely different look to what is already in situ, but one that will be in keeping with the work already carried out, as the door will be in the same grey as the shutters and it will have glass in the top half, mirroring the windows. In a surprising move (to us, anyway, as we had not considered it till Sabrina suggested it) we’re having clear not frosted glass. Living where we do we don’t have an issue with privacy, and during the colder months when the door is closed it will open up the dining area of the kitchen, bringing the outside in, as they say, rather than shutting it out.

And it was all over for the week, bar the shouting. Friday evening Stephen’s bff, Manuel, came to dinner, with his lady friend, Raffa, and his son, Enrico – not that I think it was the average 14 year old’s idea of a fun night out but he was very tolerant of us all. Once again, we had to box clever in realising the recipes we had chosen. As they were from British cookbooks a degree of creativity was needed, but we can report that a good quality pecorino cheese with a scattering of Parmegiano works well in a cheese and onion pie for a starter, while apple juice and white wine work just as well as cider when cooking pork loin. I’m sure there must be some equivalent to scrumpy knocking about somewhere in the Italian peninsular, as they seem adept at turning any other form of fruit into something alcoholic, but your common or garden cider is not a product in large demand, at least not in Monte San Pietrangeli.

Yesterday afternoon, it being a little fresher after heavy rain on Friday night (just in time to veto aperitivi on the terrazzo), we took ourselves for a walk along the lungamare at Porto Sant’Elpido. While this is not one of the more sought after destinations on the local coastline, for a walker it does have the blessing of a long promenade with a welcoming breeze off the sea so we were well satisfied with our exercise. Well, I say satisfied, but when we were driving back in the car I was mulling over whether or not to have a sulk, as Stephen had kept up such a route march that we had time for neither ice cream nor liquid refreshment. I should, of course, have known better for as we were approaching Sant’Elpidio a Mare (which, to avoid confusion with Porto Sant’Elpidio, is inland – go figure that one out), he pulled off into the car park in front of Forneria Totò, a bakery with a café attached.

This café is, appropriately enough, called the Panorama Café, and when you sit outside you indeed have a panoramic view across the valley. But it wasn’t only the impressive vista that swayed me away from throwing a massive strop at my gelato-less state, it was also the Aperol spritz (with three sizes of ice cube – how chic is that?) and a selection of the finest pizza al taglio it has been my pleasure to meet. I would heartily recommend it to you, dear reader, should you ever be in the vicinity, but I think I might just keep it for ourselves and send you elsewhere. After all, didn’t Alan Coren say that the purpose of Sainsbury’s was to keep the riffraff out of Waitrose…?