Tuscany. Just saying the word transports me to my happy place: the land of sun-soaked afternoons and succulent wines; cypress and sage-scented air, and the golden glow of Florence with her hot-blooded men moving like molten lava down the cobblestone streets. No where else in the world do tight red pants and low-cut shirts look so good on a man. And yes, yes, the women, too, are beautiful with their flashing eyes, ballsy attitudes, and sultriness oozing from every pore.
I daydream about Italy a lot. A conversation about Tuscany the other day with a friend, and the coincidental arrival of an email from
Pornanino Olive Oil in Chianti, got me reminiscing about my favourite place on earth, the perfect place of which to dream when it’s January in Canada.
![](https://i0.wp.com/4.bp.blogspot.com/_U92Ddo19WrM/S1Yt7Ul2N0I/AAAAAAAAAzM/WZSY3Ft2xX0/s320/Twyla+Chianti+(24).jpg?resize=305%2C449&ssl=1)
We caught up on our travels, oohing and awing over all the good things Italy has to offer: the food, the wine, and of course, the men. We mused over the beauty of the language, the enviable attitude towards life that Italians seem to have and what it is about Italian men that just makes you want to go and touch them, smell them, run your fingers through their hair. It’s true…one becomes spellbound in Italy.
Off and on throughout the years, my girlfriend Joan and I toyed with the idea of going to Italy together. But just when the timing looked good, she became pregnant and our dream trip was put on hold. In 2007, my spousal unit decided he and I should go. Okay, not quite the same as going there with my blond, beautiful, fun-loving girlfriend, but how could I say no?
We arrived in Florence, the Cradle of the Renaissance, and home to Michelangelo’s David, the Uffizi Gallery and the beautiful bridges that criss-cross the Arno River. We arrived on time, but half our luggage didn’t. It caught up to us eventually and even though we were inconvenienced, it was easy to forget our troubles exploring and soaking up what Florence had to offer. (See paragraph 1).
Five days in Florence was not enough. The city is mesmerizing, the food incredible, the sights, unending. It was time, though, to head into the country.
The second part of our trip was a one-week stay at
La Petraia, an agriturismo owned by Susan McKenna Grant and her husband Michael. Susan and Michael moved from Canada to a Tuscan farm near Radda in Chianti. They renovated the buildings and now run a cooking school. It was a painstaking process, but the results—the main house, the garden, the outbuildings and the accommodations— are spectacular.
Everything on the estate, from the rabbits to the rare Cinta Senese pig and the Val D’Arno chicken, to organic fruits and vegetables, olives from their orchard and chestnuts from an ancient grove, is used in Susan’s cooking classes. Even the beds and linens are made locally. I used to say to Joan, “I’m afraid if I ever went to Italy, I may never return home.” At La Petraia, I thought that every day.
During the day, we would gather ingredients from the land and learn from Susan the simplistic methods of Italian cooking, most of which can be found in her award-winning cookbook,
Piano Piano Pieno. Our reward was then to sit for hours on the terrazzo drinking wine and feasting on the creations of our classes. Yes, life was good in Tuscany.
The rest of our time was spent exploring local wine and food shops in neighbouring villages and getting blissfully lost on the winding roads of the Chianti region.
Every year I get the urge to return but I suspect it’ll be awhile before that happens. Maybe for our 50th birthdays… I think (God, I hope) by that time both our reproductive years will be nothing but distant memories. I’d say Tuscany would be a good place to celebrate their passing.
1. If you’re looking for a cooking school in Tuscany, or just a place to reconnect, relax and relish in Eden on earth, contact Susan at
La Petraia
2.For the best Italian olive oil available online, seek out
Pornanino. They ship, and it’s worth it.
3. In Italy, enjoying life—and that means eating and relaxing—comes first, hours of business come second. Take a change of clothing in your carry-on just in case your luggage gets lost. You may not find a shop open to purchase necessities when you need it.
Am I ever glad you are “back”! What a beautiful integration of recommendations!
Florence is also my favourite city… I have not been to Barcelona, but so far, Florence has my heart. I feel an affinity to it, and cannot explain why. Clearly, I we are not alone!
And the cooking school. This is something I AM going to do, and I have been researching them for a couple of years now. The treat to myself will have to wait for about a year as I want to go in the fall – late August, anyway, so thank you for the recommendation!
Now Giselle’s phone will be ringing off of the hook! Too far away for me.
Thanks for the warm reminders of my favourite place.
XO
Valerie
Nice pictures and reviews of my beloved region…w la Toscana
Gianni
https://www.utuscanytours.blogspot.com/