Puglia

Recently G and I took a trip to Puglia. Southern Italy has always been fascinating to me in part because my ancestors are from there, but then again, it's a whole other Italy from the Tuscan world I've gotten so used to. The rub is that visiting the less-touristy regions is better done with a guide. And by guide I mean someone who has lived there for years. It's the only way to find the very best gems of the place. So when we received an invitation from Antonio, our dearest pugliese friend, and Bonnie, his wife--also American!--there was no way we could turn it down.

English Wiki for Puglia

We had originally planned to leave on the 7 hour car trip before the break of dawn on Wednesday morning, but after an urgent phone call from Antonio, we realized the only option was to leave on Tuesday after G's half day of work. Why? In order to eat at all of the houses and restaurants that we could not miss. At first I thought that was a little crazy, but having returned, I can see now that there really was no other way.

After a road trip filled with the Questions Game, learning tongue twisters, and watching the countryside change, we arrived at Antonio's father's house in time for dinner. The meal prepared for us was marvelous, but this night will be remembered as my official introduction to mozzarella cheese. That particular city is famous for its mozzerella and even has a big production plant where most residents work to send out their goodness to the world. I could not begin to describe how wonderful this snowy white cheese is in it's many forms. Mozzarella in milk, strips of mozzarella in cream, creamy mozzarella inside a normal ball of mozzarella wonder... I'd never had anything like it. Just trust me that it's good. Better yet, it's always fresh and always on the table.

In recovery/preparation, we planned on not doing much eating the next day, and so we started off the day with an espressino. Best. Invention. Ever. It's like a mini cappuccino that's a smidgen taller than an espresso. I usually don't drink coffee because my nerves can't handle it, but I think I had one of these nearly every morning. And so we set off on some sight seeing. Our first stop was to see the trulli. These little houses have been around since the 1700s, much more recent than I expected, but are way neat. You can see them all around the countryside, but we headed to a little town jam full of them.

Antonio, Bonnie, and the trulli!

Inside a trullo shop.

We continued on and kept eating little... unless you want to harp on that gelato I had at a world class gelateria for lunch. We explored this town Polignano a Mare and I fell in love. It's gorgeous! And on a hot day, it had the coolest breeze.

One thing I've learned this summer is that hot weather muddles the brain and makes the world a big foggy. But here, the blue water was so blue it seemed unreal. Tempted by the tons of people on this little beach, we headed to a place we never would have found called Porto Ghiacciolo to spend the rest of the afternoon. I'll let Bonnie's pictures speak here.

Smiles: what other proof do you need?

After a record cold and speedy shower and a swift change, we headed to eat, and boy, did we. This night was fish Dallo Squallo (The Shark's) and we had to go early just in case they ran out, because that's how it works. You snooze, you lose. I've eaten at places like that here in Italy before, but it's a good thing we got there when we did. We were the only customers when we arrived, but had to push our way out to a line trailing from the door only 10 minutes later. Anyway, we chose our food from here.

And they brought it to us looking like this. Although I only got a picture of the fried plate, all of it was great! We ate this wonderful meal in good company and then headed into the city. After a drink, we took a stroll around the city and found a bunch of people waiting. For what, you ask? FIREWORKS. ON. THE. SEA. Gabriele and I are the biggest firework fans and have really specific tastes about what a good firework show is all about: how the build up should go, which ones look good together, how it should feel, and when the rhythm and dissonance should play, and what the ending is like. This show was a real pleaser in all groups and it happened right before midnight... my birthday!

Now, I am not really sure how it happened, but celebrating my birthday is not something I like to do in the traditional sense. I'd prefer that it go completely unnoticed, but spent in company or celebration of something else. Timing makes Italy the perfect place for that as a national holiday is right around the same time. But after the fireworks, G and friends surprised me with a bottle of prosecco and I rang in my new year with good company.

Because we were out so late, we had a lazy start in the morning which was well enough for me. G surprised me, having Antonio and Bonnie transfer some presents and hiding the rest. Two sets of tickets to the theatre, a white board and colored pens for my organizational needs (also known as idiosyncrasies), and 12 American beers. Eventually we set off for Antonio's grandmother's house. My birthday falls on the feast day of the second patron saint of the city. We are in Italy after all, so lunch with the family is the perfect way to celebrate. We had a great meal (with mozzarella on the table, of course), but the general favorite was the eggplant parmigiana: a plate I've had many a-time, but it was just so good.

One of the funniest parts about this scene was that I felt so at home. The food was the same plates I had eaten in my family. The atmosphere around the table, so relaxed and welcoming. Quickly I was teasing and being teased along with everyone else, a quality at every table I sat down to in Puglia. My comfort made Gabriele's foreignness as a Tuscan in the South more obvious. Despite the heavy accent and very different dialect, I was understanding just as much as G, sometimes more. Looking across the table, we would translate for each other. A fun game to even out our skills: his knowledge of Italian language and culture vs. my ability to read people and to see the big picture. It was a great thing, having Antonio--the native--and Bonnie--the informed and experienced "foreigner-no-longer"-- to lead us both around. Through their tag team we were able to see things we never would have found and understand them through our everyday experiences.

After lunch, a walk around the town to see the cousins' new house, and a cool drink in respite from the heat, the four of us hopped in the car towards Matera. One of the other Fulbrighters was there and talked wonderfully of the town. Unfortunately Rebecca had already returned, so no reunion was had, but I was so glad to be able to put a space to her words. Boy, was she right! Now Matera is known for being the place where some film was shot, but let me tell you, it's so much more! We took a tour of an huge underground water cistern, then wandered around the twisting roads of the city. Just a couple of decades ago, Antonio told us, Matera was a wasteland and really dangerous. Walking around you could see some evidence of this time, but that only made the beauty even more shocking. We took a tour underground in the recently reopened cistern, which Matera was known for instead of the rocks. Afterwords, we dropped by a top-notch bed and breakfast worked into the caves. I wish I had taken some pictures, but it was stunning. After a stroll around, we headed back to the car and admired the wonderful and OLD olive trees that pepper the hills at sunset.

The valley was deep and scary!

Underground tour

The lines indicate how high the water was!

Choosing the meat...

After our trip to the sassi, the rocks for which Matera is famous, we headed back and prepared for dinner. Dinner was at a place generally called un forno to have a meat-filled dinner. The process for the oven is that there's a butcher, you tell him what kind of meat you want, he cuts it up, then it's sent to the restaurant's kitchen next door. If you hate meat, you're going to hate the rest of this post, but it's really a different experience to see the fresh meat go from butcher to plate. That trip is one of the reasons to love Italy.

Where some of it was cooked.

The super particular thing about this place wasn't just how the food was prepared, but what we ate. It was horse. Now some of you might just hate me or think I'm cannibal material like my parents did. Italy's not everything you expected, huh? But if you'll indulge me for a minute, the city we went to eat is best known for these restaurants and the meat was very lean and simply well cooked. The first plate however was a bit hard for me to swallow: raw slices of the thinnest cut meat we "cooked" in lemon juice and ate with oil, salt, and cheese. In the end, I give that plate distinction to cross off Goal #15: Eat something really different from my 25 before 25 list. The meal went on with so many different plates. I just barely lost an eating contest to G, but got applause for my American eating skills. But so much was eaten that we walked to the bar across the street for a Padre Peppe, Puglia's pride and joy, to help us digest before dropping into bed.

Our last day in Puglia was spent soaking up the sun at the beach with Antonio and Bonnie. The beach was jam packed with people, going at the heart of vacation season, but we were able to find some sand to lay out on our towels. We even got a pedal boat which we took out into the ocean. The waves were a bit much for me and we had to dodge the windsurfers who zoomed by, but it was a ton of fun! Plus getting away from some of crowds and just hanging with good friends makes any day beautiful.

That evening we had quite a meal: quartered sheep. We went to a bare house in the countryside where people had been cooking all day long in a wood stove. Fun fact: sheep can only be eaten during the summer when grass is dry and the meat is at its tenderest. It was a lot of food... again, but oh-so good. Maybe better than the sheep was the potatoes and the other goodies made by our hostess. Them, on top of the company, great conversations, and hearty laughs, lightened up the night.

We took a trip the next morning to the panificio to grab some yummy southern bread and everyone had a nice laugh when I tried to order some. Who knew how many choices and new words there were all around different types of bread?! These people take this stuff seriously. A lunch with Antonio's aunt and uncle, who graciously gave us a bed to sleep in during our trip, put a nice end parenthesis on our whirlwind Puglia tour. G and I headed back north, stopping to see some of the very best theatre I have seen in my life, Julius Caesar, at our very favorite Globe replica in Rome--a birthday present from someone who knows me very well.

Summary: Puglia is a place full of warm people who justifiably take so much pride in their food culture, but it's important to remember the beaches and other beautiful landscapes certainly add a lot. My trip to the heel, "real Italy" as Antonio calls it, was definitely a trip to remember.