Here is a picture of an egg salad I had yesterday:
Not very exciting one might say. Well it is for me because it is completely home-produced – the salad from our kitchen garden and the egg from Flip, one of our Muscovy ducks. And it did taste delicious.The wine to accompany it will be some time a-coming but tiny grape clusters have already formed on our vine.
I am pleased to note that Italy is encouraging people to go back to the land – after all, agriculture until the sixties economic miracolo engaged over half the country’s population. Around Longoio fields overgrown with thorns has been brought back into cultivation and livestock re-introduced. And I am told that in cities the tops of flats are sprouting cabbages and beans.
When living In Plumstead I did attempt a contribution to the good life and rented a council allotment. It wasn’t much of a success, however – the soil was impossibly clayey and I don’t think I managed to eat anything from it. Here in Italy it’s my first real success at feeding myself from my own land. Of course, in addition to that kitchen garden (well-fortified against the intrusion of our greedy rabbits) there is the orto (vegetable field) described in a previous post.
The rabbits were meant to find their way into the cooking pot but they got indoctrinated by Carlotta the cat who told them that if she didn’t finish on the table why should they?
A great place to have lunch is on our top terrace. There are two terraces – one above each other –in our house. The second was originally not fenced in but I did almost immediately get a railing done for it which was not actually put on until some years later. The view is very nice from this top terrace (as it is from the one below) and one can see right across to the farthest villages in the valley like Casoli and Crasciana. In summer we sometimes sleep on the terrace when it gets a bit hot – not much a chance of that at present, though!
I have been asked for that roschette recipe – a traditional bun from Livorno (Leghorn). Here it is:
Finally, if you still can’t hear your first cuckoo you’ll certainly be able to catch this one from the bloke who first taught
doorknob Handel to write good tunes.