Shouldn’t we ask Jocko where we should go :-)?

Hello to all after wading through my usual 24 hours of jet lag, more about day one later, I awoke on day two not quite as right as rain but functioning fairly well all things considered. Thus, onto one of my hoped for highlights of the trip, the truffle hunt. It did not disappoint.

It began to dawn on me I was in Florence when sitting in the breakfast room of my hotel I looked up and saw the above. Maybe I don’t have to visit the Sistine Chapel, just kidding lol.

After breakfast it was a five minute walk to the train station. You know one would think after 200 years of operating rail lines that railroads by this point would be able to assign platforms sooner than 10 minutes before departure. I guess they must get their jollies creating unnecessary stress and laugh uproariously at passengers scampering from point to point to avoid missing their train. Just saying.

My trip for today was on a regional commuter (think Metra or Marta) to the town of San Miniato, about an hour west from Florence. From there a fifteen minute cab ride with Antonio, who enjoys listening to the podcast “This American Life” and we arrived at Fattoria-Colebrunacchi. I was first to arrive and met Katerina the mother of Francesca, the truffle hunter. She welcomed me and immediately said in Italian “I speak very little English” to which I replied, in Italian that “I speak very little Italian but if she can speak slowly with short sentences I might understand “ at least that’s what I tried to say lol. Anyway, we then had about a ten minute conversation about the farm (four generations in her husbands family) Francesca, her daughter who, with her family, lives with Katerina and her husband on the floor above and her son Paolo who works at a local tannery. I hung on there pretty good except when she picked up speed and length from time to time at which point I just went uh huh. Anyway she left me to tend to other preparations and I went out to sit on the porch with this view.

If I were to live in Italy, a place like this is where I would want to live 👍

Two other couples arrived, both newly weds from Singapore and New York City (Brooklyn to be specific) and shortly we were off with Francesca and her truffle hunting dog Jocko.

Francesca came out to the porch and said hello and that her mother thought I was very nice (it’s amazing what a smile some terrible Italian and a few hand gestures can do lol) So the five of us, with Jocko, Francesca and the sommelier, whose name I’m drawing a blank on, sorry, packed up in a van and drove down a steep, winding, road to a valley where Francesca thought the truffle hunting might be better due to the overnight rain.

White truffles are currently going for about $1,500/lbs and if I understood the story correctly that area produced the “Eisenhower truffle” a 2.5lbs truffle that was presented to President Eisenhower (then General Eisenhower) in 1946 for his efforts in liberating Italy in WWII.

At the start of the hunt Francesca and the sommelier were discussing which path to take for the hunt when I suggested that we ask Jocko to which everyone laughed.

It was an easy trail/hike but the humidity was murder and I was sweating profusely, which for those who know me know that is not uncommon 😊.

After the hunt lunch was served with the first course being white beans with a sunny side egg on top and shaved black truffles on top. Molto delizioso paired with a local chilled white wine. The second course was a stacked nest of pasta with shaved truffle and dressed with truffle oil from the estate paired with any estate bottled red wine, a Sangiovese/Merlot blend that was outstanding. The meal was finished with an estate bottled dessert wine with biscotti. Pro tip; dip the biscotti in the dessert wine. Molto Bene!

During lunch Marco, the owner of the property, came out to meet us and particularly wanted to meet me. Because of my last name, Scudere, I am often asked over here “tu Italiani?” , “Si, mezzo” is my response and typically this invokes a very welcoming response. Same here as Marco asked on the course of our conversation when I was born. “Cinquanta quattro” I responded to which he said oh, I’m older than you “Io sono più vecchio di te” and we both laughed.

The five of us had a very engaging conversation during and after lunch and Antonio arrived way too soon to carry me back to the train. Only two platforms at San Miniato but of course I was on the wrong one and had to cross over as the train arrived.

A quick trip back to Florence and with scheduled events at an end I decided to explore my neighborhood a bit. I knew I was near the Duomo bit did not realize it was only three blocks away.

More on that on a later post. Buona notte mi amichi, più domani 😃 Ciao!