LIFE: Someone to Watch Over Me

SARONNO, Italy – The heart of old Genoa is an intricate maze of ancient, narrow streets with houses so tall they seem to lean across to touch each other leaving only a ribbon of sky visible. But if you look up you’ll see small shrines built into the corners and walls of many of the ancient buildings, shrines dedicated to the Virgin Mary.  

Streets of Old Genoa

The shrines are called edicole, which refers to the small enclosures that protect them from the weather, the same word used for newsstands.  
 

While the shrines are made of various materials: slate, marble, ceramic or sometimes simple plaster, they all represent a particular artistic, social and cultural era. Most of them were built in the 1600’s when the populations of these cities turned to religion for protection against the decades of disaster that they had suffered.  

Edicola in Old Genoa

It was a time of uncertainty and while I can’t speak for all Italian cities, I know that Genoa had survived wars and floods and, perhaps the most damaging of all,  epidemics of the Black Plague. Historians write of the plague starting in the interior of Asia around the year 1333, and slowly moving from the Crimea to Genoa, and then on through the rest of Italy.  

In the periods between the plague and the Black Death, there were pandemics of scurvy, cholera and leprosy. With no logical explanations as to why these disasters were occurring, the Genovese looked to the Virgin Mary for relief. 

An Edicola in Genoa

In Genoa the edicole are concentrated in the historic center, unlike Rome where they are scattered throughout the city. There are only about 500 or so edicole still intact in Rome, even though there used to be thousands of them. The reason is that Genoa’s historic center has remained pretty much the same for the past 2,000 years, while in Rome various urban renewal projects have eliminated neighborhoods and enlarged streets, taking a toll on this particular cultural heritage. 

The appearance of edicole in Rome goes back father in time than in Genoa, although the reason for their existence is the same. In Rome their popularity Rome is based on a tale of a miracle that occurred in the year 590 AD. The Roman population was being decimated by the plague and in seeking divine intervention, the inhabitants of the city carried an Byzantine icon of the Virgin Mary - Salus Populi Romani - from the church of Santa Maria Maggiore to Saint Peter’s Basilica, praying along the way for the epidemic to end. 

When the procession reached the fortress called Hadrian's Mausoleum, an angel carrying a sword appeared, and as a sign that the sickness had been stopped  through the intercession of the Virgin Mary he placed his drawn sword in its sheath. From that day on the fortress was known as Castel Sant'Angelo - the castle of the holy Angel.

Salus Populi Romani

In celebration, reproductions of the icon were placed on the front of the houses that the procession had passed. During the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, the custom of placing pictures or statues of Our Lady on the outer walls of buildings became still more widespread, with tales of miracles linked to them.

Well into the nineteenth century, the only street-lighting in Rome was that of the lamps or candles set by the faithful before these little shrines to Our Lady as a sign of devotion and a light to guide the populous. They believed that those who saw the face of the Blessed Virgin by this light, was saved from getting lost either along the paths of life or along those dark city streets.

Edicola in Rome

In Rome you’ll find ediole across from the Trevi fountain, in the Piazza della Rotunda, on Palazzo Chigi, on the Vicolo del Forno, Piazza Colonna, and many other places. In Genoa, they are on almost every corner of the Old City.  

If you are interested in seeing some of the edicole in Genoa, here is a link to a great video that gives you a short tour, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6MC_3ueIFA&feature=related and if you are interested in reading about Genoa here’s a link to copy and paste of an article I wrote for the Washington Post  http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-382644.html

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AUNTIE PASTA: IS DIS ARONNO?

SARONNO, Italy - Ask anyone south of Milan or north of Como where Saronno is, you’ll probably be greeted with a blank stare. Ask if they have ever eaten Amaretti DiSaronno, or spiked their coffee with Amaretto di Saronno, and everything changes.

While the word amaretto (singular) and amaretti (plural) are the diminutive of “amaro” or bitter, and mean “a little bitter”, both Amaretto DiSaronno and Amaretti diSaronno are sweet.

Amaretto DiSaronno is an almond flavored liqueur which was first made in 1525. There is a lovely little story behind the origin of this special liqueur, the story of a romance between a painter, Bernardino Luini, a student of Leonardo daVinci, who was hired to paint a series of frescos in Saronno’s most famous monument, the Sanctuary of the Blessed Virgin of the Miracles, and a local girl he hired as his model.

The story is that out of gratitude and affection she wanted to give him a gift and created a liqueur by steeping apricot kernels in brandy. The Amaretto DiSaronno sold today is made from the original recipe and imported by Bacardi. The only difference is it is now sold in a glass bottle made by a Venetian craftsman from the island of Murano.

I confess I am not a big Amaretto fan but it is good if you are making Tiramisu and on ice cream. And on one of the web sites I saw a suggestion to add it to pancake batter. Might be worth a try. Here are a few Amaretto drink recipes you might want to try:

THE FRENCH CONNECTION
1 part Amaretto liqueur
1 part Cognac
Pour ingredients over ice into an old fashioned glass and stir gently.

THE GODFATHER
1 part Amaretto liqueur
1 part Scotch
Pour ingredients over ice into an old fashioned glass and stir gently.

THE GODMOTHER
1 part Amaretto liqueur
1 part Vodka
Pour ingredients over ice into an old fashioned glass and stir gently.

AMARETTO SOUR
2 oz Amaretto
1 oz fresh lemon juice
½ oz Simple Syrup
Pour all ingredients into a cocktail shaker. Add ice, shake vigorously, and strain into a sour glass.

Amaretti di Saronno cookies are a lot younger than Amaretto di Saronno, by about 200 years. They were first made commercially in the 1700’s by the Lazzaroni family of Saronno, but they too have a story.

It seems the Cardinal of Milan was scheduled to visit Saronno. As it was a very special occasion for the town, two young lovers decided to make a special cookie in his honor. They baked up a light biscotti confection from sugar, egg whites and apricot kernels. The apricot kernels gave the cookies a slightly bitter taste, which earned them the name “amaretti”. The cookies that the Lazzaroni family make today are made from the same three ingredients and still have the beautiful crunchy-chewy texture the original cookies had. They are the only cookies that can be called diSaronno.

Lazzaroni recently opened a couple of retail shops in Saronno, one of them is on the other side of the piazza in front of my apartment building. I like the shop because it carries their full line of cookies, which are very good.

They also carry local artiginale food products I never see in the regular grocery stores. One product I buy is a dense cake similar to an American fruit cake, but with bigger chunks of fruit. It’s not overly sweet and tastes great with that first cup of coffee in the morning.

LIFE: I Can See Clearly Now

SARONNO, Italy - I friend of mine broke his glasses the other day. He had them in his pocket and sat on them. It's not the first time it's happened and it really put him in a bind. The problem is he’s nearsighted. To see anything he has to practically be on top of it which can be a problem when you have to get right in someone's face to know if you should say hello or not. He said women are particularly sensitive to this type of greeting.

Call the Fire Department

If I remember right, I think my seventh grade science teacher said that Benjamin Franklin invented eyeglasses, but she was wrong. Unfortunately nobody really knows the name of the guy who did. Some experts claim that eyeglasses were invented during the late 1200’s in Pisa by either Alessandro della Spina or Salvino Armato. It’s not clear. Others claim that Armato had absolutely nothing to do with inventing eyeglasses, it was him purely a public relations stunt his family initiated to give the guy some credibility.

In 1289, an Italian writer, Sandro di Popozo, published a Treatise on the Conduct of the Family. In it he states that eyeglasses "have recently been invented for the benefit of poor aged people whose sight has become weak.” Then he went on to say that he had the good fortune to be an early eyeglass wearer. "I am so debilitated by age that without them I would no longer be able to read or write."

Unfortunately Popozo never mentions the inventor by name. A second reference was made by an Italian friar, Giordano di Rivalto. In a sermon he preached in Florence one February morning in 1306 he said: "It is not yet twenty years since there was found the art of making eye-glasses, one of the best arts and most necessary that the world has." Maybe he sat on his glasses too.

The Friar went on to say that he had met the man who first invented and created glasses, and that he had talked to him. So how come he didn’t give us his name either? It all sounds very fishy to me. It's obvious whoever did invent “disks for the eyes” didn't realize the potential moneymaker they had on their hands. In the right place, and with the right advertising copy, it could have been a bigger marketing opportunity than the hula-hoop. But no. Glasses had the misfortune to be invented in Italy where the general thinking is if you have to advertise your product, it obviously isn't any good.

Early spectacles

By the mid-fourteenth century, Italians were calling eye disks "lentils" and for more than two hundred years eyeglasses were know as "glass lentils." It's also where the word lens comes from. One of the early problems with eyeglasses was how to keep them on. Holding two glass lentils up to your eyes would be fine if you didn't need your hands for other things like opening a door, for example. The first solution was a leather strap that tied behind the head. Variations on that theme were small circles of cord that fitted over each ear. Still others just let the spectacles slide down their nose until it came to rest against the bulbous end. My neighbor’s husband still wears his just that way. Of course he has to tilt his head way back to see anything, but life is made up of sacrifices - large and small, isn’t it?

Ancient spectacles

In the early years eyeglasses were a major status symbol, something like the two big T's of today, telefoninos and tattoos. But by the nineteenth century, when glasses became relatively inexpensive and common, wearing them became decidedly unfashionable. Women didn't want to be caught dead in them. Remember "men don't make passes at girls who wear glasses"? Glasses were only worn in private and only used in public when absolutely necessary.

The same fate should happen to the other two big T's. Unlike earlier versions that were super heavy, today, thanks to space-age materials, eyeglasses are relatively lightweight. In the beginning, frames made of bone, real tortoiseshell or ivory were so heavy that they gave people headaches. Plus the lenses were made of heavy glass, adding to the problem. So for many years people could choose between having a headache and being able to see, or being blind as a bat and no pain.

Leonardo da Vinci

Of course if everyone had listened to Leonardo da Vinci back in the sixteenth century, all these problems would have been resolved. In his Codex on the Eye he described an optical method for correcting poor vision by placing the eye against a short, water-filled tube sealed at the end with a flat lens. The water came in contact with the eyeball and refracted light rays much the way a curved lens does. Da Vinci's use of water as the best surface to touch the eye is copied today in the high water content of soft contact lenses.

Da Vinci, with his 100 percent liquid lens, was right in recognizing the psychological problem people would have with sticking something in their eye. Well none of this has really solved my friend’s problem. He will just have to wait until next week when his new glasses will be ready. Hopefully someone will be able to go with him to pick them up. I wouldn’t want him to get lost and end up wandering around streets of Saronno all alone.

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ON THE ROAD - Mantua

This is the third in a series of monthly travel articles inspired by a recent New York Times article on 31 places to see in 2010. All of the towns on my list are in Italy, most are small, rich in history and art and for the most part off the beaten track which, for me, makes them all the more interesting.

MANTUA, Italy –Almost twenty years ago, just before I left Philadelphia to live in Italy full time, I bought myself a good size black leather travel bag. The plan was to get settled in my new country and then spend weekends checking out the little Italian towns I always passed on my way to somewhere else. I had traveled to Italy often enough to know there were a lot of them, but there always seemed to be too many other things to do and see.

 Gonzaga Ducal Palace

I’ve slipped those soft leather straps over my shoulder many, many times since then, but never got around to Mantua. I remember reading somewhere that in the 1400’s Mantua was a dark and dank city infested with vermin, wolves and vultures, that travelers slept on flea ridden straw mattresses, shared their beds with strangers and the disease of the day was the bubonic plague. I sincerely hoped the town had changed since then, and say so to the woman sitting across from me on the train.

"I think you'll find things have improved," she says. “It’s actually very pretty. There are three small lakes that wrap around the town like a Renaissance moat, giving it a very romantic atmosphere. And it has one of the best preserved medieval towns in northern Italy. In fact the last time a new building went up in Mantua's historic center was back in 1561 when it was ruled by the Gonzaga family."

Oh yes, the Gonzaga family. They are what Mantua is, and always has been, about. They were one of the richest and most powerful families in Italy's history, and in this small provincial town, which today has about 65,000 inhabitants, they created a dynasty so powerful it rivaled their more famous city state neighbors, Venice and Milan.

After I check into the hotel, look at the mattress and assure myself there are no strangers lurking in the closet, I go to meet Toni Lodigiani, the Associate Director of the Mantua Tourist Bureau. He walks me over to the Ducal Palace, and as we cross the three interlinking squares of the old city, Piazzas Sordello, Broletto and delle Erbe he tells me about the Gonzaga family.

“They were shrewd and cunning soldiers of fortune, commoners who fought their way to power. They took control of Mantua in 1328, and held it with an iron fist for 400 years, buying themselves a royal title along the way,” he says.

At the Palace, what I find is a series of palazzi, dating from different periods, that have been hobbled together. It’s massive. With more than five hundred rooms and fifteen courtyards it is second in size only to the Vatican in Rome. Once inside it takes close to an hour to make my way through the maze of rooms, secret gardens and courtyards that are open to the public. From the Room of Cupid and Psyche, to the Room of the Moors, to the Room of the Mirrors, each is decorated with ornate, detailed frescos dedicated to the power and glory of the Gonzaga family.

 Detail Camera degli Sposi

During the dangerous and turbulent days of the Renaissance, strong political alliances could mean the difference between survival and surrender. The Gonzaga not only survived but they flourished through their military shrewdness and by marrying their sons to the daughters of allies and potential enemies. The women, bartered and bargained for, were used like brood hens to produce heirs for the mutual benefit of the families. For the Gonzaga there was also a serious need to introduce new blood lines as genetic defects due to excessive inter-breeding was starting to produce odd looking children.

The boys, though deformed, were generally tolerated but the girls were sent off to live out their lives in a cloistered nunnery. The painting of a young girl in elegant court dress, her face completely covered with black hair found hidden in a private Gonzaga gallery was no doubt the treasured remembrance of the girl’s mother who knew her daughter would be lost to her forever.

In 1463, when a youthful Federico Gonzaga decided to marry, his father, Ludovico, the Marquis of Mantua, hired artist Andrea Mantegna to decorate the Camera degli Sposi, or Bridal Chamber. On the walls of the small room Mantegna pictured the Duke and his wife Barbara surrounded by their children, members of their court, their servants, their dogs and their horses. With extraordinary beauty and sensitivity the artist reproduced a slice of life in the Renaissance court of Mantua. The fresco became one of Mantegna’s most famous works. 

 Portrait by Lavinia Fontana
of Young Gonzaga Girl   

 Lunch time in Mantua

During the dangerous and turbulent days of the Renaissance, strong political alliances could mean the difference between survival and surrender. The Gonzaga survived, and flourished, not only through their military shrewdness, but by marrying their sons to the daughters of allies and potential enemies. The women, bartered and bargained for, were used like brood hens to produce heirs for the mutual benefit of the families. For the Gonzaga there was also a serious need to introduce new blood lines as genetic defects due to excessive inter-breeding was starting to produce odd looking children.

The boys, though deformed, were generally tolerated but the girls were sent off to live out their lives in a cloistered nunnery. The painting of a young girl in elegant court dress, her face completely covered with black hair found hidden in a private Gonzaga gallery was no doubt the treasured remembrance of the girl’s mother who knew her daughter would be lost to her forever.

Over the next few centuries the Gongaza family put together what was to become one of Europe's most extraordinary collections of art and art objects, amassing more than 2,000 paintings and nearly 20,000 objets d'art. The collection included Correggio, Mantegna, Giulio Romano, Tintoretto, Titian; and family portraits by Titian and Rubens.

There are rumors of an impending train strike which means I may have to leave earlier than planned so I walk over to the Palazzo Te to see what else the rulers of Mantua had on their minds besides collecting art and making war.

The sun is high in the sky and prickly, so I stop at the small café in the park near the Te. It’s crowded with elegantly dressed young mothers in Dolce and Gabbana chatting and spoon feeding gelato to their cooing round-faced babies. At this hour there are no other women my age in the café, or even in the park, making me fair game for every bike riding Romeo cruising by. Safe in the knowledge that their Signoras are at home cleaning the kitchen after lunch, they feel free to stare and flash their toothless smiles. What I can’t figure out is how they can pedal along the narrow park paths and ogle me without running headlong into the trees.

The entrance to the Palazzo Te is crowded with stacks of tables and chairs ready for an event scheduled for later that evening. These days the Te is used for corporate meetings and special banquets, but back in 1525 when Federico II called the architect and artist Guilio Romano to the Ducal palace, he had another idea for the space.

Federico, (who would be granted the title of Duke just five years later), asked Romano to convert what was an abandoned stable on the outskirts of town into a summer retreat, a hideaway where he could entertain his mistress, Isabella Boschetti. What Romano gave him was the greatest of all Mannerist villas, the Te.

The Duke and Romano sat and planned the frescoes that would decorate his new palace. Federico explained that his interests ran to women and good times, and Romano listened. His fresco of the drunken Bacchus (the Roman god of wine) frolicking with plump nudes and exotic animals in a celebration of sex, food and wine in the Hall of Psyche, says it all. Federico was delighted.

Far from the spying eyes at the Ducal palace, Federico felt free. At last he could indulge in his vices and transgressions, which he happily did until he died at the age of forty, crippled by what the Italians called the French disease, and what the French called the Italian disease, syphilis.

The threatened train strike becomes a reality and I have to leave. The people at the hotel understand, train strikes are a way of life here. They shake my hand and say they hope I at least enjoyed the little time I had, and to come back soon.

I go up to my room to pack and as I glance out of the hotel window I realize the narrow street below leads to the oldest building in Mantua, the 11th century Rotunda of San Lorenzo. The past is such a vibrant part of the present here and being able to slip back hundreds of years just by turning a corner fascinates me. The Mantovani may prop their bikes against the old wall of the Ducal palace without giving a thought to the centuries of violence and bloodshed that took place on the very ground beneath their feet, but I find it difficult to take the historic treasure that is Mantua for granted.

The sky was darkening as I boarded the train. I watched as the shadowy gray sky outside the train window deepened to charcoal and then black. Mantua was much more than I expected and I hope it stays just the way it is, a simple paese with all the charm of the Italy I fell in love with all those many years ago when the scruffy old black leather bag sitting on the seat next to me was still new.

ON THE ROAD - Cremona

This is the second in a series of monthly travel articles inspired by a recent New York Times article on 31 places to see in 2010. All of the towns on my list are in Italy, most are small, rich in history and art and for the most part off the beaten track which, for me, makes them all the more interesting.

CREMONA, Italy - When the Duke of Milan’s daughter Bianca Maria was about to get married, her father gave her the town of Cremona as part of her dowry. He could do that you see, for 1441 was a time when Italian cities were the personal property of the rich and powerful.

 

Bianca Maria didn’t do much with Cremona, and for more than a hundred years the town didn’t do much with itself either. That is until the 16th century when Andrea Amati came along and developed the first modern violin. Through Armati, and his pupils Antonio Stradivari and Giuseppe Guarneri del Gesu, Cremona made history and secured its place as the violin capital of the world.

It is hard to talk about Cremona without talking about violin making, although there are other things to talk about. The origins of the town go back more than 3,000 years making Cremona one of the oldest towns in northern Italy. And while the Venetians, the French, the Spanish and the Austrians all conquered Cremona at one time or another, all of that history is completely over-shadowed by the music.

It hits you right away. Walking from the train station, down the Via Palestro on my way to the center of town, the honeyed strains of Vivaldi and Paganini, Tartini and Boccherini floated out from the buildings. It was like being in a movie with the sound track running. 

The music was coming from the privately operated violin workshops that are the commercial backbone of the city. It was in a workshop just like the ones I was passing that Amati, Stradivari and Guarneri del Gesu worked.

What those old Masters accomplished was nothing short of a musical miracle and for centuries scholars and scientists have been trying figure out just how they managed to build such magnificent instruments. Now researchers think they have found the answer. They say the secret lies in the remarkable even density of the wood the violin masters used.

It really wasn’t a secret. Any of the violin artisans working in Cremona today could have told them that. The real trick would have been to figure out how the old masters knew what wood to choose, and where to find it.

“The method I use to select the wood for my violins is exactly the same method Antonio Stradivari and other Cremonese violin masters used hundreds of years ago,” says violin Maestro Stefano Conia, founder of the Italian Association of Violin Makers.
Like Stradivari, Maestro Conia uses a special wood found in the Paneveggio Forest, high on the slopes of the craggy Dolomite Mountains in Italy’s northern region of Trentino. The unique honeycomb structure of the forest's red spruce trees make it the ideal wood for violins and other string instrument. It is the reason why Paneveggio is called the Forest of the Music Trees.

But there is more to making a musical masterpiece than just choosing the right wood. Making a violin was, and still is, slow and painstaking work and the superstitious violin masters of old didn’t tempt fate. 

Stradivari, for example, would only use wood from the male red spruce trees, and he insisted that they be cut during the winter under a waning moon when their sap was not running. And before the final coat of varnish went on the instrument he would take it home and put it on the table next to his bed for a couple of weeks, for he believed a spiritual transaction would take place between him and the instrument, and that the violin would inherit a soul. 

The craftsmen working in Cremona today may not be quite as superstitious as the old Masters but they do follow the same methods and patterns. You can see how it’s done by visiting an artisan’s workshop. Just stop in at the Tourist Information Office and ask for their list of Botteghe Liutarie. Maestro Stefano Conia’s workshop is in the heart of the city’s historic center at Corso Garibaldi 95. His violins can also be found at Sothebys, Philips, Bongards and Christies. 

In the Palazzo del Comune you'll find a collection of classical Cremonese School violins, including a 1566 violin made by Andrea Amati for King Charles IX of France and the 1658 Hammerle violin created by Nicolò Amati. And in the Museo Stradivariano on Via Palestro 17, there are more than 700 objects from the Master’s workshop. Also interesting is the replica of a violin artisan’s workshop during the time of Antonio Stradivari. It is located in the Tower il Torrazzo in the Piazza del Comune. Museum hours Tues-Sat 10-12:30 - and 3-6, Sundays 9:30-12-30.

Cremona Tourist Information Office (APT)
www.aptcremona.it

Paneveggio Forest Information
www.trentino.to
Email: info@sanmartino.com

Photos: (1) Clock Tower and Duomo; (2) Maestro Conia in his Cremona workshop (3) Cremona's Palazzo Comunale (photos courtesy of Cremona Tourist Bureau)
IN MARCH 'ON THE ROAD' GOES TO MANTUA

AUNTIE PASTA: I'll Take Some of Those...Ahhh.... Fried Cookies

 

SARONNO, Italy - You can call them chiacchiere, or you can call them frappe or bugie or even guanti, but in reality they are all the same confectioner sugar sprinkled fried cookie that signal the start of Italy's Carnival in Italy.

My Aunt Louise has been making and selling those same fried cookies, that she calls guanti, for the past 50 years.These days it's my cousins Etta and Barabara that do most of the work but Aunt Louise, who just turned 99, still folds boxes and helps out when she can. It's an intensive labor of love that no one wants to give up on as the orders keep coming in. Traditions run strong in upstate New York and for many families a wedding or holiday wouldn't be the same without a large sugary tray of Aunt Louise’s Old Country Bakery Guanti.

As a kid, every trip we made to visit my Aunt resulted in a trunk full of cookies to take back home. And no one complained. Personally I have never tasted any quite as good as hers anywhere in Italy, and yes, maybe I am just a little prejudice.

Most of the leading Italian food magazines feature articles this month showing how to make them. The cookies my Aunt Louise makes are a little different than the ones I see here in Saronno. Hers are bigger and because she slits the dough and passes one end of it through the opening before they are fried, they look like bow ties. Here they simply cut the dough into strips and fry it. It’s certainly easier and faster but there are fewer nooks and crannies for the powdered sugar to hide, and that’s what makes them so lip smacking good.

While even after all these years I still can't get excited about Carnival – or Mardi Gras as it’s called in New Orleans – I’m always happy when the trays of guanti start appear in the windows of the rosticcerie in town. Can Spring be far behind?

In Venice and Viareggio Carnival is a huge festa. There are parades with fancy floats and people dress up and walk around and look at each other while kids throw confetti in the air and squirt silly string on everything. They do pretty much the same thing in Saronno except there is a lot less dressing up and a lot more confetti throwing and silly string squirting.

Carnival as we know it today started out as a Pagan Roman festival called the Saturnalia. It was a time when slaves and masters, with their faces hidden behind masks, could eat and drink together as equals and dance in the streets with no fear of reprisals. And because Saturnalia was so much fun, the early Christians were more than a bit reluctant to give it up. So the eat, drink and make merry part was incorporated into Christianity, but with a slight twist.

The Christians started the transformation by giving the festival a new name: Carnivale. While it sounds festive to us now, the word comes from the Latin “caro” meat and “vale”, farewell, which, when you put them together really means say bye bye to meat and hello to those 40 days of abstinence known as Lent. And so that's where we are.

Sometimes, when I walk past the little pink Church of San Francesco and see the plaque that says the church was built on the site of a Pagan temple, I wonder what kind of Italy I would be living in if the Roman emperor Flavius Valerius Constantinus, aka Constantine the Great, hadn't supported Christianity. Would I be out dancing in the streets of Saronno, laughing behind my mask? So far the vote is 5 to 1 that I would be doing just that.

Photos: 1. Italian Guanti; 2. Step by Step: Making Guanti

AUNTIE PASTA: Italy's Dark (Chocolate) Secret

 A Match Made in Heaven

TURIN, Italy – With a well-practiced eye, Signora Greni carefully selects chocolates from the vast assortment spread out in front of her. She works quickly, her delft hand slipping chocolate and hazelnut nuggets next to ebony colored seashells, and dark bitter chocolate truffles next to chocolate covered cognac creams. Row by row, layer by layer, the fragrant chocolates are settled into frilly paper cups. When the box is filled she covers it with embossed paper, pops on the lid and another assortment of amazing chocolates from the Peyrano chocolate factory in Turin is on its way to some happy chocoholic somewhere in the world.

 Signora Greni at Work

It’s a Cinderella story. The smooth and silky chocolates in the fancy beribboned box start out as part of the thousands of pounds of cocoa beans delivered monthly to the many chocolate factories scattered throughout the city. But once the beans are in the hands of Turin’s master chocolatiers, the magic begins.

Turin has been the center of traditional chocolate making since the 18th century, for this is where Europe’s billion dollar chocolate industry was born. To celebrate it's love affair with chocolate, the city hosts an annual fesitval called CioccolaTO'. Every spring more than a hundred local chocolate shops and factories set up tents and kiosks around town transforming the city into a chocolate lover's paradise.

No doubt the thousands of dedicated chocoholics who turn up each year to munch their way from booth to booth, would be surprised to learn that before a clever Turinese discovered how to turn the bitter liquid into solid chocolate all you could do was drink it, although it is hard to imagine why anyone would have wanted to.

Chocolate in the 1700’s was not the smooth and silky seductive chocolate of today. It was gritty and bitter, and needed massive doses of hot water, sugar and vanilla just to make it palatable. But the rich and noble found it irresistible, and it wasn’t long before drinking hot chocolate became a daily ritual, le must of the elite, practiced in the royal courts and elegant cafes throughout Europe.

As chocolate grew in popularity so did the myths and mysteries. While some argued that chocolate prolonged life, cured ringworm and ulcers, piles and gout, monks were urged not to drink it as their Bishops thought it inflamed sexual ardor. And if the Bishops were right, well then, all the more reason to imbibe.

It got people thinking. If such passion could be stirred by a simple chocolate drink, then surely more could be done with this wonder bean. Think of the money to be made. The question then became how to solidify the liquid, because by solidifying it the marketing and sales possibilities increased tenfold, a hundredfold - but who would be the first?

 Signor Peyrano and One of His Magic Makers

Chocolatiers from one end of Europe to the other tried everything they could think of. They took freshly processed cocoa beans and they baked them, they boiled them, they even tried adding olive oil to them, but nothing worked. It was as mysterious and futile a process as trying to spin straw into gold.

But then, just as the 18th century was coming to a close, a Turinese chocolate maker unlocked the secret. Tinkering with a pastry making machine, he figured out how to blend the right amount of bitter cocoa with sugar and vanilla and there it was – solid chocolate. A star was born. Turin was thrust into the spotlight as the European Capital of Chocolate.

It is hard to imagine the level of the city’s involvement with chocolate until you realize that while most cities offer museum and bus passes, only in Turin can you by a ChocoPass, a book of coupons to sample some of the best chocolate candies and chocolate specialties in town.

You’ll find homemade chocolates in just about every bar, café’ and bakery in town. And while it’s true that there are many high quality chocolate makers throughout Italy and Europe, a recent chocolate guide published by one of Italy’s premier food magazines, listed more master chocolatiers in the city of Turin than in all of Belgium and France combined. Here are three of the city’s best.

Peyrano Fabbrica di Cioccolato
C.so Moncalieri, 47, Turin
www.peyrano.com
Like Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory, Peyrano is a non-pollutionary, anti-institutionary, pro-confectionery factory of fun that turns out exquisite, handmade chocolates with a quality level that is off the charts. Peyrano has the reputation of being the best of the best, no small compliment in a city of chocolate connoisseurs.

Tourinto di Gobino
Via Cagliari 15/a, Turin
Tel. +39 (0)11 247 6245
Using a classic recipe from the 1860’s, this factory specializes in the gold foil wrapped chocolate and hazelnut gianduiotto nuggets. They also produce tubs of creamy gianduiotto that Italians love to spread on bread for a snack. Giuseppe Peyrano considers Guido Gobino his only serious competitor, and that alone qualifies him for a gold star on the Chocolate Walk of Fame.

Stratta P.zza San Carlo, 191, Turin
www.stratta1836.it
The swirls and curls that decorate the beautiful confections at this pastry slash chocolate shop – not to mention the outrageous packaging - are enough to send you running back to the hotel for your camera. The shop, which has been around since 1836, is full of rococo gilt and sophisticated Murano chandeliers that illuminate the elaborately decorated boxes of handmade chocolates.

 

On The Road - Vigevano

This post is the beginning of a series of monthly travel articles inspired by a recent New York Times article on 31 places to see in 2010. Most of the towns are small, all are rich in history and art and for the most part they are off the beaten track which, for me, makes them all the more interesting.

VIGEVANO, Italy - Call me a romantic fool but you gotta love a guy who builds (or rebuilds) himself a castle for his 40th birthday. It just goes to show what money and power can do. In this case the money and the power was in the hands of the 15th century Duke of Milan, Ludovico Maria Sforza, known as il Moro, the Moor.

The birthday castle is in Vigevano, a half hour train ride from Milan. The town is usually quiet but today the main piazza is buzzing with activity having been taken over by an Italian film crew.

“They’re filming a television commercial for a new Italian travel magazine,” says the woman standing next to me. “It’s about Vigevano,” she says pointing to an old man dressed in a Renaissance costume.

Ten minutes later nothing much is happening so I walk across the black and white stone piazza and go up the stairs that are under a tall clock tower designed by Donato Bramante. At the top there is a wide expanse of grass and across the way is the brick castle, solid and massive and more fort like than fanciful. The Duke hired Bramante, who had just finished St. Peter's Basilica at the Vatican, to bring the 12th century Vigevano castle up to 15th century standards. What you see today is the result of Bramante's genius.

Part of the renovation included a separate residence wing behind the main section of the castle for the Duke’s bride-to-be, Beatrice d’Este of Ferrara. Separate quarters were normal as there was no concept of romantic love between husband and wife during the Renaissance. Beatrice, like most wealthy young women of her time, was no more than a marriageable pawn used to create alliances between powerful families.

She was only five years old when the Duke made the deal to marry her, and her dowry of four hundred thousand gold ducats, (valued at close to $1 million in pre-World War I dollars when the ducat was still a viable currency) no doubt sweetened the pot. Beatrice and the Duke were married in January of 1491. The bride was sixteen, the groom, thirty-nine.

Walking around the main part of the castle I go through a tall arched door and find myself on a wide covered road. Above my head, mammoth wooden beams criss-cross the vaulted dome, and the only light comes from the narrow windows placed close to the ceiling.

During World War II when the Germans commandeered the castle to use as their headquarters, they used this road to drive their trucks and tanks right into the castle compound. Pretty amazing when you consider the road was built by hand in 1345. It is still used daily by locals as a shortcut through town.

Across the grassy courtyard from the castle sits a long, low building that once housed the horses for the Duke’s army of 1000 mercenaries. It was designed by Leonardo da Vinci. Inside, there are two long rows of evenly spaced marble columns that mark the edge of the stalls and flank a center foot path.

To this day no one has been able to figure out how Leonardo managed to raise those massive columns all in one piece. It had never been done before. The only clue is the three round indentations, each about the size of a quarter, near the base of the columns. Some experts think they were made by a machine Leonardo invented specifically for the task. But it’s only speculation.

With the Duke in residence Vigevano became a thriving commercial center. Twice a week a general market was held in the main piazza. Local farmers sold fruits and vegetables, poultry and pigs and merchants sold the wool and silk produced in and around Vigevano. Public executions were held there as well.

If you were condemned for sodomy, the most serious crime of the day, you were burned at the stake. The wood for the fire was carried in from the nearby woods by harlots who were then publicly charged with the lesser crime of prostitution, and hanged. And while they waited for the executions to begin the locals shopped, visited with neighbors and caught up on the latest gossip. Locals still shop at the weekly market, the hangings however, have been discontinued.

The Duke considered Vigevano an example of Leonard’s “ideal” city and there are many similarities between the sketches found in Leonardo’s Atlantic Codex and the Vigevano castle and piazza. Apart from the visual perfection of the piazza, two things that stand out are the oddly shaped chimneys, which are merely decorative, and the black and white stones under your feet, which are a local industry.

The stones come from the nearby Ticino River where stone collectors, wearing thigh high rubber boots, wade into the water and scan the bottom for stones of a certain size and color. They put the best ones into a small boat they pull along behind them as they work.

The stones were once carried in hand woven straw baskets tied to the backs of mules through the mountains and valleys of northern Italy to decorate piazzas in towns as close Genoa and as far away as Venice. In the 14th century, a Venetian craftsman discovered that by adding ground up white pebbles from the Ticino River to a soda ash solution he was able to filter out the impurities in Venetian glass. The glassmakers of Murano rejoiced for that breakthrough launched the Venetian glassmaking industry.

An afternoon visit to the castle, a leisurely aperitif under the porticos that ring the piazza, will put you in the company of generations of Vigevanesi. It’s a different kind of Italian experience not found in any guide book. It’s the quiet discovery of the Italy Italians enjoy.

Photos: (1) A corner of Vigevano's Main Piazza; (2) Bramante’s Tower; (3)Leonardo da Vinci's Stable; (4) Collecting Stones One by One

p.s. At the Vigevano Castle: Leonardo da Vinci's output during his time in Lombardy; 'virtual codex' on flying, botany, mathematics, weaponry, astronomy, engineering and architecture; until April 5.