Side Tripping
One of my absolute favorite buildings in all of Italy is Florence’s train station, Firenze Santa Maria Novella. First off, it’s fairly imposing. It reminds me a bit of the brutalist architecture I loathed in Boston, but without the disquieting sinister undertones—and with a heavy dose of glamour. Oh, and light! The entire ceiling of the main passenger concourse is made of metal and glass, which bathes the entire station in warmth. I was especially enamored with the signs indicating where passengers could purchase tickets, newspapers, and tobacco. (I say “could” because most of these signs are just decorative now.)
They also had an area with large panels depicting the history of the station, including when it was built (1848) and about how the city ran a contest to redesign it in the 1930s. I became more and more enamored with the station as I used it to travel to and from several nearby cities during my extended stay in Florence: Rome (again!), Pisa, Siena, and Modena.
A Return to Rome
Because I was spending so much time in Florence, I decided to use my weekends to visit nearby cities. For my first weekend, Seth and Andrea invited me back to Rome to stay with them in their beautiful home. On my first night in town, Seth took me to a party that was held in a lovely Roman courtyard. It was pouring rain off and on, so occasionally, the whole party would have to huddle under tents until it stopped and then we would all cautiously venture back out into the open air. That night, Seth and Andrea made a delicious meal for us and we stayed up late talking and drinking too much wine.
The next day, Seth and Andrea had an event to go to, so I did a bit of shopping in preparation for showing off my burgeoning cooking skills that night. My first stop was a cheese shop. I was having some trouble communicating in Italian with the first guy who offered to help me, so he asked another guy behind the counter to help. The other guy came over and—at the top of his lungs—yelled, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Looking back on it, it’s kind of funny. But at the time, I thought, “The issue here is not volume, buddy.” But I got my cheese and then went to a little vegetable market nearby. Seth wanted me to try puntarella, an Italian vegetable delicacy, and luckily, the place had it. But it needed to be prepared in a special way, so the shopkeeper asked me to wait 15 minutes while she laboriously shaved the puntarella into these long, elegant coils. As she was preparing it, she told me, in Italian, that it needed to be immersed in water as soon as I got it home. Meanwhile, the shopkeeper’s daughter arrived at the store and, obviously aware that my Italian was a little shaky, she asked her daughter (who spoke perfect English) to make sure I understood that the puntarella needed to be immersed in water. After the cheese shop, it really moved me that this woman was so insistent on making sure I had a good experience with the puntarella.
When Seth and Andrea got home, we all made dinner together and then ate it on their balcony, the table decorated with tons of candles and buckets of fresh flowers (Let me tell you, Seth knows how to set a table.) I also got to pepper Andrea with more questions about Italian. At one point, I told him that I was having trouble translating a section of a song I love by a young Italian artist. He read the lyrics and was like, “Oh yeah, that’s just nonsense.”
The next morning, we all went for a run through the Borghese Gardens and then had lunch at Rosciola Sulumeria. Seth had to sign away his third-born child to get us a reservation, but we made the most of it, ordering several appetizers, pastas, and desserts to share. Andrea buzzed me home on his Vespa and then it was time for me to head back to Florence.
Tourist-ing in Pisa
For some reason, I was on the fence about Pisa. I mean, I wanted to see it, of course. But I also heard so many people speak about it derogatorily, saying that it was a letdown or a tourist trap. But ultimately, I decided that I couldn’t travel half way around the world and skip one of the most iconic sites in the world. So the day after I got back from Rome, I decided at the last minute to hop on a train to Pisa.
I alighted at the city’s main station rather than the station closer to the tower because I wanted to do a walking tour and get a sense of the city before I arrived at the main event. I’m so glad I did this because along the way, I got to see a Keith Harring mural, wander through some gorgeous arcades and courtyards, eat some lard-wrapped spinach rolls, and have the absolutely incredible experience of walking along a street and suddenly, when I wasn’t expecting it, have the Leaning Tower of Pisa just appear as I rounded a corner.
Y’all, I’m not going to hedge on this: the Leaning Tower of Pisa is spectacular. And if this means that you now envision me wearing cargo shorts with knee-high socks and a fanny pack, I’ll just have to accept that. The tower itself is just gorgeous. But to see such a tall structure leaning so precariously (and iconically)…I don’t know…it just gave me chills.
So I get my ticket and make the climb up to the top. First surprise, the tower is hollow. Who knew! The views from the top are cool, but nothing compared to, say, the views from Campanile in Venice. Still, it’s fun to get a bird’s eye view of the Field of Miracles. And the bells at the top of the tower are really beautiful too.
Back down on level ground, I visited the church (surprise, it’s gorgeous), the baptistry, and the cemetery (including the famed Triumph of Death fresco). Content that the tower wouldn’t fall because there were so many people holding it up, I made my way to the train station closer to the Field of Miracles and headed back to Florence…so happy, and so grateful to have seen such a marvel.
A Mystical Trek to Siena
Siena is high on a lot of people’s Tuscany list. But what really put me over the edge was a dear friend describing the cathedral as “one of the most mystical places” he’d ever been. Sold.
On my walk from the Siena train station to my hotel, I stopped for coffee and a thick slice of Siena’s famous panpeto, a dense sticky fruit and nut bread. I ate it next to a table of young men wearing floor length capes and dramatic hats. I still have no idea what was happening there, but it created some great atmosphere for my panpeto.
When I made my reservation for my hotel in Siena, I decided to spring for a “garden-facing” room. And I’m so glad I did. It was pretty hot when I arrived at the hotel, so when I got to my room, the wooden shutters were shut to keep the room cool. As I opened them, I was amazed to discover that my window looked out over miles and miles of lush, green Tuscan countryside. I mean, yeah, you could see the garden way down below, but like, they really underplayed the view!
By the time that I got to the cathedral, it was closed for the night (an hour earlier than the website said it would close…a common occurrence on my travels). Instead, I headed for aperitivo in Siena’s central, brick-paved “main square.” Piazza del Campo is shaped like a shell, rising up gradually to the outer edges, which are lined with bars and restaurants. The atmosphere is so energetic and jovial. I enjoyed a Campari and gorgonzola-radicchio-walnut crostini as the sun set, highlighting the beauty of the piazza’s bricks (in the city’s famous namesake color). After dinner, I grabbed a gelato and did half of Rick Steves’ city walking tour before crashing in my super comfy bed.
The next morning, I did the rest of the walking tour and visited the cathedral (including a tour of its magnificent ceiling). The cathedral is indeed mystical (only slightly diminished by the insane crowds). A quick tour of the museum ended with spectacular views from a part of the cathedral that was never completed due to a plague that devastated the city. I grabbed some pizza on my way to the train station (the best I had since Naples), and enjoyed it alongside some pesky pigeons while waiting for the train.
Dinner with Massimo in Modena
If you’ve ever watched Chef’s Table on Netflix, you might be familiar with a chef named Massimo Bottura. He’s this gregarious, super charismatic Italian chef whose restaurant Osteria Francescana has three Michelin stars and is consistently ranked as one of the best restaurants in the world. Getting a reservation at the actual restaurant is impossible, but I found a loop hole. If you stay at his hotel, Casa Maria Luigia (which used to be his home), you are guaranteed a reservation at Francescana, Massimo’s restaurant located on the grounds of the hotel. The experience turned out to be epic.
I arrived at the hotel in the early afternoon and was immediately greeted by the warmest, most welcoming staff you can imagine. They showed me to my beautiful room and basically told me to treat the hotel as if it were my home. Everything was included. They encouraged me to get drinks and snacks from the kitchen, which had vases full of towering breadsticks and refrigerators full of individually-portioned, gourmet mini-meals. As I was eating in the kitchen at a communal island, a young couple joined me. We wound up hitting it off and decided to meet for aperitivo later that evening. The hotel has a beautiful pool (with a pool house stocked with all kinds of beverages), so I went for a swim before showering and getting ready for dinner. At aperitivo, we enjoyed our drinks while the setting sun’s rays shimmered amidst the weeping willow branches. (I’m not kidding. This place is magical.)
When it came time for dinner, I got a little sad. Since I had a reservation for one, I envisioned myself sitting at a tiny table by myself for the night. To my surprise, I was escorted to one of four long, family-style tables. Immediately after I sat down, my new friends were seated right next to me. And then another fun, younger couple was seated to the other side of me. We all quickly connected and it became apparent that our table was the fun table. And we had a BLAST.
The dinner started with introductions from the restaurant’s head chef…and…MASSIMO! None of us were expecting him to be there, but he wound up spending about half the evening with us (before he left to visit his main restaurant, Osteria Francescana). The meal was presented in stages. The head chef would introduce the first three courses to us, and then we would eat. She would then come back to introduce the next three courses to us, and then we would eat. (And so on and so forth.) Each course had the most interesting back story to accompany it (as Francescana serves the “signature dishes” from Osteria Francescana). Some were funny, others were heartfelt. (Most delightful, though, is the story behind the “Oops, I Dropped the Lemon Tart,” dish, as detailed in the Netflix episode.) Massimo buzzed through the restaurant, chatting with us, interjecting as the head chef was describing the dishes, and taking pictures with us.
The food was, expectedly, out of this world—some of the most insane, delicious, surprising, beautiful things I’ve ever eaten. And as someone who values storytelling, having mini-stories accompany each dish made the experience even more meaningful. By the end of dinner, we were all ripped. The atmosphere was electric, as if we had all known each other for decades and were at a wedding or something. One of my favorite parts of the night was when we were served a final “surprise” dish. Now, at this point, we had had two different dessert courses and were completely stuffed. So I assumed this would be some small little chocolate or scoop of sorbet or something. Nope! It was Massimo’s grandmother’s tortellini! A super rich, super creamy, super decadent pasta. Because, according to Massimo, the old saying goes: “You cannot leave the table unless your mouth tastes like cheese.” I have never left a restaurant feeling so full in all my life.
The next morning, I went for a walk around the grounds and visited the kitchen garden (so many fragrant herbs!), and Massimo’s “play house,” which houses a full gym, bar, and, yep, you guessed it: a Lamborghini custom-painted like the “Oops, I Dropped the Lemon Tart” dish. After another swim, I got ready for breakfast with our crew from the night before. At this point, I feel like I don’t know how to describe this meal without it sounding like I’m just resorting to lazy hyperbole. But I mean it: This was the best breakfast I have ever had in my entire life. Imagine every kind of pastry, egg dish, vegetable, spread, juice, etc. that you can think of, all spread out before you. But these are Massimo’s versions of pastries, egg dishes, vegetables, spreads, and juices, so they are all inventive and wonderful. I finished off with a cappucchino (dusted on top with a chocolate “M”) and underbaked cookies (Massimo’s son’s favorite). Again, so full. Again, so worth it.
After checking out, we all took more photos, said goodbye to Massimo and the head chef (who were there to prepare for that evening’s dinner), and then shared a taxi to the train station.
Both meals were absolutely incredible. And I cannot recommend both the hotel and restaurant enough. But it was the entire experience, getting to enjoy it family-style with new friends, that made it one of the most memorable nights of the whole trip.
That evening, I got to Florence, spent some time savoring the train station, and then headed to the hotel where I would stay for my final week in Florence.
‘But wait!’ I hear you wondering…‘How are you already describing your last week in Florence and you haven’t even told us about your cooking school yet?!’
I know, I know…
That’s next!