When it gets hot, the Florentines head to the mountains or the sea-- which is a seriously good idea. This weekend we took the mountain option, thanks to an invitation from the Pazzis.
We took a dayhike up to Lago di Scaffaiolo, a little lake high in the Apennines. Boccaccio documented an interesting legend about the lake back in the 14th century: the locals reported that if anyone disturbed the surface of the lake, the sky would cloud over and a strong wind would blow in and uproot the trees. We arrived to find a dog swimming in the lake and a group of wee campers skipping stones-- apparently they hadn't received the memo.
Luckily, there is a refuge near the lake, where we settled in for lunch. We'd already examined the menu, which was posted halfway up the trail.
Sausage and beans, 3 km ahead.
In fact, we'd already seen part of the menu: the sheep responsible for the ricotta. (The ricotta was served for dessert, with wild blueberries.)
After lunch, the spirit of Lago di Scaffaiolo calmed down and the rain let up enough for us to descend.
The upside to all the rain we've gotten this summer is that it seems to be a good mushroom season, and mushrooming is an extremely popular pastime in these mountains. On Sunday we went into the woods with Gian Paolo in pursuit of fungus. After a few hours, we had amassed a decent collection of chanterelles and a handful of other delicacies, including a lone porcino. Naturally, this called for fresh pasta.
It turns out chanterelles are called "gallinacci" in these parts, which means something along the lines of "bad chickens." Perhaps they are bad as chickens go, but as mushrooms... not bad at all.
3 commenti:
We went out mushroom-foraging today, too — but we weren't nearly as successful as you were.
hey, jealousy
so much depends
upon
an irritable lake
glazed with rainwater
beside the bad chickens
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