Io sono grasso, sono più grassi, io sono il più grasso!

I am fat, and getting fatter. I could get really, really, really fat before I even get to the Land of the Kebab. Damn you Francesca and your wonderful pastries that you give me each morning, damn you S’ant Ambrogio markets with your beautiful cheeses, and damn you all those places that have forced me to sample your wares. There is so much incredible food in this city that I’m even beginning to think that bulimia is not all bad. Anorexia is all bad for sure, but bulimia has its merits. I wasn’t doing so well weight-wise anyway. Then the Webers arrived.

The Webers are our good friends from Germany.  Stephan and Iris are wonderful company and both are great cooks – Mitch and Catrina will attest to that. Stephan and I have made a point of cooking meals with ingredients that are either unfamiliar or difficult for the other to obtain in their respective home cities. For example Stephan cooked roast pigeon and roast rabbit for us all the first night.

The pigeon was marinated, browned, then put into a very hot oven for just five minutes. The legs and wings had a faint liver flavour. The breast had a strong liver flavour. Strangely the livers, cooked separately, did not taste anything like liver -they were incredibly bland. It makes me wonder if pigeons have big livers under their wings and another set behind their knees.  Stephan assured me that pigeon grows on you, but then, so do warts. This is one bird that is definitely safe from my predation.

The rabbit, however, was a revelation.  I have only tasted rabbit once before – that was in Siena a number of years ago. Stephan cooked this rabbit the same way as the pigeon and it was absolutely delicious. We had made salads and roast potatoes Weber style to accompany. The wine was a prosecco  – and it was the perfect all-round dish.  Both the rabbit and the pigeon were memorable in their own way.

To farewell the Webers we ate at a favourite place called ‘Cippoli Rossa’ (I have a great photo from a previous visit of a VERY fat German family hooking into the food.  They had been in Eatily way too long.  How my children laughed when they realised that I had taken photos of complete strangers eating!). It was food that we can’t  get in T’ba – huge but tender grilled veal chops, soft salami, roast rabbit (again), and our new favourite; a round of warmed soft goats’ cheese served on toasted Tuscan bread and topped with proscuito and rocket. We have cooked risotto and pastas, eaten the simplest salads and the freshest vegetables.  The foods as we wander the streets have been gelato or panini or the ubiquitous pizza. And we have had the luxury of a few glasses of wine or Italian beer at lunchtime.

Every time I have been to Italy it makes me wonder why we don’t eat like this at home. Then I realise; it’s because we have allowed the death of the fresh food industry industry by not caring.  It’s because so many shopkeepers here are knowledgeable and ready to pass on that knowledge. It’s because most Australians are not passionate about their food and wine, the average Italian seems to be not just passionate but almost fanatical.  It’s because the same old Italian lady who hands over her bus ticket to a complete stranger would willingly trample her own disabled sister to get the best tomatoes or the last artichoke at the markets. She would tell the green-grocer exactly what she thinks of his lettuce – only then would she tend to her weeping sister she has left lying on the ground.

And it’s because if I ate like this at home I would be drunk at lunchtime. And also because I would get really, really, really fat.