Experience Tuscany As Tourists Rarely See It
/A shorter version of this article was originally published in The Tennessean on March 5, 2017.
Our recent week in Italy’s famous Tuscany region was a study in contrasts: From renting an entire 11-story, 12th-century tower to a small town B&B; from upscale dining to simple picnicking; from a popular tourist town to a tiny, quiet medieval village. Despite the wide range of experiences, there were common threads: Immersion into the history and the authentic lifestyle of the people who live in this magical and storied country; doing it all in an affordable way while steering clear of tourist crowds; and of course, eating and drinking very well.
We began in Lucignano, a medieval walled hill-town on the edge of the Chianti wine region. Because it was February, the streets were quiet, almost deserted; a few of the small shop-fronts were papered over, closed for weeks or months in the winter.
The old medieval center - the centro - is laid out in three concentric rings, like a wedding cake, with small cobbled streets circling each “layer” and narrow stairways or lanes connecting the rings. At the top is the town square and two ancient and magnificent churches, both of which are active and display artworks from minor Renaissance masters. At the town’s high point stands the municipal museum, part of a palace dating from the 13th century.
When we visited the museum, a lone cat greeted us in the doorway; his presence there activated the automatic door, so we took that as his invitation to enter. There was no one at the front desk, so we proceeded into the building, and up the stairs to explore the museum. We briefly marveled at the frescoes on the walls and ceiling of the council chamber: painted scenes of life in Lucignano from prior centuries.
Oddly, here we came across people walking around carrying files, making copies or speaking on the phone in little side offices, and going about their business. Only then did we realize that this was not the museum; but the town hall. Civil servants work here in the city’s administrative offices just as they have for over 700 years. They welcomed us, letting us know that we weren’t intruding; this is an open government building. The museum is free - it’s just on the ground floor. Our impromptu tour of the ancient council chamber was just a bonus.
Our lodging was on the outer ring of the centro in a 16th-century building, B&B La Gianduja. Ridiculously inexpensive at $60/night, the gorgeous rooms all have vaulted ceilings painted with frescoes from the 19th century, and the building boasts a large patio with a lovely view. As we sat with a glass of wine on this terrazza overlooking the Tuscan hills, the woman who runs the place explained the very low price for what we were getting: Setting low rates keeps the place full most of the time, and this constant influx of visitors to Lucignano helps the local restaurants, bars, and other shops thrive, so everybody wins. We found ourselves wishing that this kind of communal civic responsibility would catch on in the States.
Lucignano has about ten restaurants in total, from casual but excellent wood-oven pizza joints to upscale dining worthy of any big-city food scene. Directly below our B&B is Ristorante Zenzero. The chef here offers a creative presentation in the form of three fixed menus: Red (meat), Blue (seafood), or Green (vegetarian). Every plate is artistically conceived and beautifully constructed from the imagination of chef Fabrizio Peruzzi.
Being in an out-of-the-way town like Lucignano in the off-season has tremendous benefits, not least of which is that you can have the place mostly to yourself, and walking through the empty streets on a chilly evening can feel like you’ve stepped a few centuries back into time. This is the sort of “Little Roads” experience at which we’ve become adept.
Nevertheless, it’s always good to get out of one’s comfort zone; for us, that means tackling one of Tuscany’s larger and more touristy spots. San Gimignano, a city by our standards (especially compared to Lucignano), is considered a small-town experience by most visitors; tour companies send people by the busload to wander the streets of this medieval wonder. The remains of an ancient wall with watchtowers surrounds much of San G, and cobblestone streets radiate up from the city gates to its central piazza. Several museums display a historical overview of the town’s fascinating past; a climb up the city’s biggest tower, the Torre Grosso, offers an actual overview of the town itself.
The town’s Visitors Bureau refers to San G as the “Manhattan of the Middle Ages”, and it’s easy to see why: The town’s centro has a dozen or so tall stone towers that jut up out of the village and look out over the rooftops to the countryside in all directions. In medieval times these were the strongholds of various rich families, whose constant social one-upmanship resulted in this skyline reminiscent of the Big Apple (“Mele grande”, and yes, they do use that term in their brochures!).
Two of these towers, right next to the duomo (cathedral) at the top of town, are the Torre Salvucci, a pair of towers whose proportions are vaguely reminiscent of New York’s Twin Towers. They were built in the 12th century by the Salvucci family, a merchant dynasty that made its fortune in fabrics and spices.
One of these towers has been converted into an apartment; in summer it would be too expensive for us, but in winter it becomes affordable. As musicians, our tendency is to travel affordably; after spending so little at our last B&B, we decided to splurge on this unique lodging. This was (for us) extravagant, but it’s not fancy. On the contrary, the logistics of moving up and down in this tower necessitates careful planning - “Okay, which of us has the wine, and the glasses, and the corkscrew?” - and strong calves to propel ourselves up the nearly 200 steps from the ground to the rooftop eleven stories up. It’s all worth it, though, for the view from the top of the tower: Sitting on the little rooftop patio with a glass of wine, some bread, and cheese, looking down over the town below, we indeed felt like royalty from the middle ages. Watching the sun set as the clouds roll by, the birds circling below us, was truly a memorable experience. The interior, too, feels medieval - the third floor kitchen is modern and has large windows overlooking the square, but the other floors have only tiny openings, six-inch square tunnels that peer in all directions through six feet of dark, cold stone wall.
Staying here has the additional benefit of being able to escape the crowds in the town below - though in this season the tourists are just a fraction of those that clog the streets in the summer. We did, however, brave the streets on our first day here, as we awoke to a bustle of activity in the piazza below. As we drank coffees in our kitchen, we looked down to see an assortment of merchants setting up their stalls in the square - it was Market Day!
Nearly every town in Italy has a weekly market day. Meat-roasters, bakers, olive oil producers, wine-makers, fruit and vegetable vendors, craft artisans, sellers of clothes and kitchen gadgets and knick-knacks, all descend on town after town to ply their wares. Tourists buy bags of dried pasta or Italian flags or t-shirts with a picture of Michelangelo’s David. The locals come out to do some shopping, haggling over the price of a half-dozen sausages or a basket of produce or a pair of shoes. After a coffee and a grappa in the bar across the street, we set out to buy a few choice morsels for our lunch: Some winter lettuces and a strand of little hot-house tomatoes; a tin of oil and some wine from a local producer; two blood oranges; a couple of spiedina - skewers with grilled sausage and fried polenta squares; a succulent rack of smoked ribs. After a quick stop into a bakery to pick up some fresh bread and a few fritelle di riso - basically, lemon-scented rice donuts, for dessert - we duck back into the tower and take our haul up to the roof to enjoy our lunch in panoramic splendor.
Options for dining out in a town like this are many, but most of the restaurants are set up for tourists. This can often mean that the food isn’t great, since it doesn’t have to be. But some research and a bit of inquiry can sniff out the better places, where the locals go to eat. We ask the guy at the wine shop around the corner to suggest a good restaurant with “cucina tipica” - local cooking. He directs us to a place up a little alley stairway and then down one of the little side streets - “La Mandragola”. It’s small, warm, inviting, as if we’re in someone’s house. The food is expertly prepared: Traditional dishes like pappardelle with a sauce of cinghiale (wild boar), and a more modern vellutata - an herbaceous cream soup of potato and leeks. Takeaway is not normally something to ask for in restaurants here, but when we explained that we had this tower to ourselves that we wanted to enjoy, they let us take our dessert with us - a velvety chocolate mousse with whipped cream.
As we amble back to our medieval tower (it’s still fun to say that!), the streets are misty, quiet, empty. We walk through the normally thrumming piazza in front of the duomo, and it’s just us, the fog, and the bats.
Options for dining out in a town like this are many, but most of the restaurants are set up for tourists. This can often mean that the food isn’t great, since it doesn’t have to be. But some research and a bit of inquiry can sniff out the better places, where the locals go to eat. We ask the guy at the wine shop around the corner to suggest a good restaurant with “cucina tipica” - local cooking. He directs us to a place up a little alley stairway and then down one of the little side streets - “La Mandragola”. It’s small, warm, inviting, as if we’re in someone’s house. The food is expertly prepared: Traditional dishes like pappardelle with a sauce of cinghiale (wild boar), and a more modern vellutata - an herbaceous cream soup of potato and leeks. Takeaway is not normally something to ask for in restaurants here, but when we explained that we had this tower to ourselves that we wanted to enjoy, they let us take our dessert with us - a velvety chocolate mousse with whipped cream.
As we amble back to our medieval tower (it’s still fun to say that!), the streets are misty, quiet, empty. We walk through the normally thrumming piazza in front of the duomo, and it’s just us, the fog, and the bats.
The lesson here: Whether exploring a little-known town with hidden treasures, or visiting a popular tourist hot-spot, travelers can benefit from going in the off-season. This makes for a memorable and fulfilling trip, experiencing the culture and the people, getting the feel of a place - and, of course, the taste of it as well.
