New trip announced: Olive Harvest/ Wood Burning Oven/ Photography Workshop, November 8-14

Full itinerary

Monday

11:00 Arrivals to Chiusi train station, which is halfway between Florence (catch the 9:13 train at SMN) and Rome (catch the 8:43 train at Termini).

We will head for the old part of Chiusi, the heart of the Etruscan world. Our first stop is the celebrated Etruscan museum for a quick overview of Etruscan civilization, then a pasta demo and lunch at Pesce d’Oro, a lakeside trattoria. The meal is what we imagine that the Etruscans ate: fresh perch from the lake smoked over canes and dressed with local olive oil, pici (the local pasta with ancient roots), and the local Sangiovese wine.

Once we have settled into Poggio Etrusco, we will head to Enoteca la Porta in the medieval village of Monticchiello where we will have a demonstration of a dish using farro, an ancient strain of wheat. We’ll have some time to stroll around charming Monticchiello, then return for dinner and a lesson from a wine master on the spectrum of wines in Tuscany (tasting a range of sangiovese in purezza).

Tuesday

Morning olive harvest, farmhouse lunch. Today we boost our energy with risotto al porcini, grilled sausage and peperonata, a tasting of local pecorino cheeses, and fresh ricotta with chestnut honey. After lunch we will visit a local cantina (winery).
Tonight we will learn about cheesemaking from a local cheesemaker and have dinner at his organic farm.

Wednesday
Morning market and a cooking class to make a classic Tuscan lunch: crostini fegatini, Ribollita, roasted chicken and potatoes. Dessert is a fig crostata.
Continue with harvest.

After we freshen up, we will head the charming Renaissance hilltown of Pienza, famous for its Pecorino cheese. Dinner tonight in the private home of a Marchesa whose ancestors count several cardinals and the mother of Pope Pius II. She is also renowned locally for the meals she serves.

Thursday

This morning we bring our olives to the frantoio (olive pressing mill). After our olives are pressed, we will toast fresh bread, rub it with garlic, and drizzle on our very own fresher-than-fresh olive oil.
We then transfer to meet Peggy Markel.
Welcome to La Cucina al Focolare! Get settled in your rooms then come into the kitchen for a heartwarming lunch.

Take a break in the afternoon to rest~ or take a nice long walk through the country roads to sink yourself into the Florentine Hills. Come back to the kitchen for an aperitivo. We'll stoke the wood-fired ovens for pizza, foccaccia, letting you make your own and teaching you how to use the pizza peel. Expect music, laughter and a few folded pizzas.

Friday
Drive into Florence, destination Cibreo Cafe for the most sublime cappuccino in the city. We will meet and have a rare and candid discussion with Fabio Picchi, chef owner of Ristorante Cibreo , the Cafe', the Trattioria and now the Teatro del Sale. Fabio has two books under his belt now, rather biblical titles, 'I Dieci Commandamenti Per Non Fare Peccato In Cucina'. 'The 10 Commandments To Not Be Shameful In The Kitchen', and the new 'Senza Vizi and Senza Sprechi'. More or less the 7 deadly sins, but more importantly, ' Virtues in the kitchen and a passion for leftovers'.

We'll shop the outdoor market of St. Ambrogio for our afternoon class. Lunch at Teatro del Sale. We'll take a walk through the historic 'centro' of Florence, cross the Ponte Vecchio and have a glass of wine at the 'Volpe e L'uva' before heading up the hill to cook. The late afternoon and evening will be dedicated to hearty Tuscan cool weather dishes like pate of cauliflower and fennel seeds, a mixed roast of stuffed pigeon, pork loin with aromatic salt, deboned chicken rolled rolled an herb frittata, and local sausages, creamy zolfini beans and sage, cavolo nero, and biscotti di Prato.

Saturday
We'll roll across the valley to Bombone, where we'll meet Peggy's dear friend Pierre Cusseau. A French shepherd of aromas. Pierre has a fabulous way of sharing his passion for culinary herbs. His gift is not only in growing them, but mixing them with tasty grey salts from Normandy. Smelling the various mixtures in the jars, while smelling them in the air is indeed an aromatherapeutic experience not only for the nose, but the palate.
Lunch and a wine tasting at Selvapiana Winery. Afternoon will be back in the kitchen for more flavors of fall using chestnuts, winter squashes and wild game. Tiramisu for dessert. Wine tasting proceeds dinner wine expert Bernardo Conticelli.

Sunday

Departures after breakfast

Cost for this program is 3180 Euros per person (approximately $4074 USD at 9/1 exchange rate).

For more details and to book, please contact us at info@peggymarkel.com

Why Travel?

Travel opens the doors of perception.

You begin to live in the open question, looking at the world and yourself with different eyes. Your awareness heightens and you see, feel and taste things that you have never seen, felt or tasted. You wake up as if you have been asleep and realize that you are living in a technicolor dream-like world full of wonder and beauty and sadness, yet, it surprises you how rich and moving the content. It stimulates your creative juices and all wishes seem possible.

Come Celebrate My Birthday in Tuscany, September 25-30. My Treat!

This fall, I am inviting all those who would like to spend 5 fabulous, festive days in the Tuscan countryside with me at La Cucina al Focolare a savings of almost $1500 To $2000 dollars (!).

I want to celebrate 18 years of "Cooking by the Fireside" and honor yet another year of coming together to connect culture and cuisine in the heart. I am usually traveling during my birthday and never get to properly celebrate. Why not this year? We'll cook, take walks, taste wines, visit markets and cafés. I want to spend time in meaningful conversation appreciating the taste and texture that is Italy and share that love. If you have been wanting to join me in Tuscany, but non cera la trippa di fare mangiare i gatti (there wasn't enough tripe to feed the cats), then now's the time!

Surprise! Celebrate good times, come on!

Come back or come anew to visit me, Piero, Carla and Pierre. We'll also give a tribute to Sandro, who we lost last February.



A tavoli non si invecchia mai!
"At the table one never grows old!"

Birthday special: Double $3000, single $3500 (from $4,594 dbl and 4,940 single)



For a taste of this place that is so close to my heart and my sense of home, read my blog on "Usho Bottega," Cibreo Café in Florence.

Zuppa di Pesce Panaresca

Zuppa di Pesce? si..but also Risotto Pescatore


Inside our sailboat the 'Swamy', cooking on a gimbled stove.
photos by: Hank Strauss


Zuppa di Pesce Panaresca
(Fish soup from the Aeolian Island of Panarea)

1 kilo of fresh prawns
3 fresh squid
1/2 kilo of vongole verace (clams)
2 red mullet
 a few cherry tomatoes
1 can of cherry tomatoes, peeled
olive oil
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
white wine
a bunch of parsley, chopped fine
salt to taste
pepperoncino (cayenne) a dash to taste

Peel the prawns, separating prawn from shell. Set the prawns aside. Bring a pot of water to a simmer and drop in prawn shells.

Clean and cut the heads off the mullet. Fillet the fish, cut into 2 to 3 pieces and set aside. Add heads and bones to the broth.

Rinse and tap the clams (looking for a "flat" sound that may indicate a shell without a clam but full of sand). Set aside.

Clean the squid by taking out what’s inside the tube. Peel off the thin outer layer. Slice into rings. Set aside.

Peel and flatten garlic. Rinse and dry. Chop parsley fine. Set aside. Quarter the cherry tomatoes and set aside.

Now you have your mise en place.

Put a generous drizzle of olive oil in the bottom of a large sauté pan. Add chopped garlic and simmer until barely golden. Add pepperoncino, half the parsley and the tomatoes. Stir until saucy. Salt and pepper. Strain and add the broth.

Heat a separate pot. Add some olive oil and a little garlic. Add the clams. Toss them in the hot pan, splash them with white wine and cover the pot with a lid. Steam for 3 minutes, or until the clams open and give up their liquid. Add to the pot. (Be careful not to let any possible residual sand from the pot liquor to slide in.)

Season prawns (or shrimp) and squid with a quick toss in a frying pan, with olive oil, parsley and salt. Set aside. Add to the pot. I like to season things separately before adding the pot, it deepens the flavor. Otherwise, you could just skip this.

Correct salt and pepper . Add the rest of the fish and fish broth if you have some leftover. Let it simmer to marry, but not so long to overcook the seafood.

Garnish with parsley. Serve with garlic toasts. Should be flavorful and spicy.

P.S. Broth can be used for making Risotto, shrimp and squid can be cooked right into the rice.
Scampi in the shell, clams, etc. can be added on top of the risotto before serving.

Learn more about our week-long culinary sailing program along Italy's Amalfi coast. 

Stories that need to be told. Lia. Isola d'Elba

Luciano Casini's aunt Lia and me. Elba 2005

Letter to Sally April 3, 2003.

Last night was the festa for Luciano's restaurant as you know. 30 years! It was one of those parties where you don't know but one or two people apart from the host. I started to wonder why I came. That odd moment of getting all dressed up and standing around with your plate in your hand, trying to find a corner to put one's glass down.

I felt rather like a bird with my plumes spread, somehow there for the looking but not for the talking. Then I heard the name 'Lia'. I saw on old woman sitting in the back with longish gray hair

and sun glasses on, surrounded by people. I realized that this was Luciano's beloved aunt that I had heard so much about but had never met. She is almost 80 now; an alumni of Columbia University when Eisenhower was the president (of the school). She studied philosophy and taught in Rome for many years. She is the real story.

She quotes Dante, the Greeks, Shakespeare, sings Frank Sinatra, and can drink almost anyone under the table. She see's your very soul. The drink might as well have been coffee this night, as her performance grew more intense and passionate without a waver. She was the most awake of all of us in every sense and was still going strong until 3 am. Dagmar, Luciano's x wife and I took her home. We arrived and she said.."Peggy, Peggy, questo e il mio castello! Guarda come bello!" This is my castle, see how beautiful it is! Like my aunt Sarah, she lives alone without a car deep in the countryside in a glorified hut. Books were stacked unevenly on all tables. There was not much light in the house. She is legally blind but her memory is stellar.

When I first came to Elba and met Luciano, I knew then why Fabio was Fabio (Picchi~ of Cibreo fame in Florence) and why he had sent me there. He was heavily influenced by Luciano as he spent every summer in Elba and learned Luciano's gregarious, fearless, rustic ways of cooking. He took it and refined it. His habit of wearing red pants and orange shirts came from Luciano. He borrowed his fascination, as Luciano's 'devil may care' attitude, also suited his.

Now upon meeting Lia, I understood where Luciano's gioia di vivere' came from. His first trip with Lia to the movies when he was 10 years old, changed his life. She transported him away from the provinciality of Capoliveri in his mind and from there, she became his mentor. Luciano went on to live and work abroad, learn a few different languages and even became an actor in films. The restaurant, a stage for all of his talents.

The story does not end there. Lia had a mind of her own. Islands make strong women, especially if they are educated. Her sister's family moved to Australia with young children. When the nephew's returned grown and gorgeous, she fell in love with one of them, 8 years her junior.

It was shocking for everyone including them. They asked to be married by permission from the Pope and he granted it. Yet, they never married. He died early in an accident.

Lia remained unmarried, but not unhappy. She would raise her fists and quote Dante with bravado! She loved the world and it's mystery.

These women keep showing up..whether in Alabama, West Virginia, or here in Capoliveri. Their stories need to be told.

I'm off to the beach. Soon it will be a conversation 'voce a voce'. We'll be discussing how sweet the tomatoes taste this time of year..and how gentle the breeze feels today.

Big kiss,

Peggy li. ( she called me Peggy li as a form of endearment all night, not knowing my name was

Peggy Leigh.)

ps. she can't wait to meet you. New York never leaves a young woman's soul.

...........................................

Lia died some years later. She had magic in her bones. She could quote the greats with great command, never missing a line. Sally came to Elba for a big birthday from New York. She brought Lia the New York Times. For a few years after that, she couldn't stop talking about the kindness of Sally li. Lia will be sorely missed. Her legend, a strong, shooting star.

Anna's Passing~ Fabrizia Lanza

There is much to say about Anna Tasca Lanza. My affection and respect for her is immense. It will take me a while to digest and post a proper tribute.

Here is her daughter Fabrizia's moving account of her mother's last days for all of those who knew her.

.......................................*.............................................


Anna Tasca Lanza, my mother, passed away on the evening of July 12. It happened with no suffering at all, while she was sleeping.

In these last months I have been so very close to her that it is difficult for me to talk about her or about our relationship. I think that memories and feelings will rise up, floating like oil on water, little by little, every day now for the rest of my life.

Nevertheless, I would like to share some of my thoughts with all the friends who receive my newsletter and who know about our cooking school, which Anna built from nothing in 1989 and that I have been proudly pursuing since 2004.

The first sign of my mother's illness was that she was not willing to cook anymore. She completely lost her appetite, and when I went on holiday last summer, I found upon my return that Mum and Dad had simply stopped eating, a fact complicated by the heat, the loneliness, the loss of enthusiasm.... The moment I came back I suddenly found myself inverting the usual familial roles; I had to start cooking for my parents and found that it wasn't simple at all!

Mummy was fussy, like anyone who has lost her appetite and doesn't feel like eating anything but a very few and precious things. I realized I had to catch up with food, which in my childhood had meant comfort food for both of us, the food we used to eat on the blue table of the kitchen when Dad wasn't home (he hates peasant food!)...Anna and I, whispering and giggling together about anything we talked about.

At that point I realized that these comfort foods were the only things my mother would enjoy eating: capellini in brodo con la ricotta, spaghetti con la salsa, fave bollite, gazpacho, pasta con le zucchine fritte, minestra di zucchine e tenerumi, plus an endless variety of sweets, which she had always adored: lemon curd, taralli, blancmange, almond brittle, chocolate mousse. In fact, what she most demanded in her food was love, and I would use "all my love" as the main ingredient.

In her last month she was completely out of the world of food, managing only fruit juices and pistachio and walnut ice cream. She wouldn't talk, she wouldn't open her eyes. Now and then she would move her right arm or squeeze my hand very gently when I told her about my children, Ruggero and Virginia. I was afraid to experiment with foods because she very quickly got tired with our timid feeding temptations.

One day I decided I would dare something new, since she had always had a love for fresh, rather acidic and sweet flavors. With the fresh citruses from the garden, I made a lemon granita.

She ate it, and in a whisper she said, "Squisito."

This is the last comprehensible word I recall my mother saying. I love her so much for this last present, for being capable of appreciating quality and pleasure up to her last moments...I will never forget it.

Our Captain: A Man of Substance

His head fell into my lap with exhaustion, preceded by the rest of his Neapolitan body. He was wet and cold and the night sea water was rough and dangerous.

A fisherman’s trawling net was caught in the motor of our sail boat. A family of seven and a crew of three were with us on an overnight transfer from fire-breathing Stromboli in the Aeolian islands, off the northern coast of Sicily, to the great seaside city of Napoli. Darkness fell and the boat motored on. It was rough, our 46-foot Beneteau swimming upstream directly into the wind. Tough conditions for sailing in any case, but more pleasant to navigate if not been in a rush. We needed to get the family back, so we motored full-throttle.

We waited for the darkness to bring calm, a chance to sit down to a proper dinner, but that calm never came. Unusual for the Mediterranean.

We were hungry but afraid to eat. The sky was clear and stars appeared, but the sea churned as if the wind had an invisible hand in the stirring. It was going to be a long night. I gave my guests bread with honey as to comfort.

I went to my own cabin near the prua to try for sleep though the dishes were crashing around in their holds. A stray closet door kept breaking loose, swinging open with a bang. With my son, Graham, helping watch I shut out the chaos in my small cabin. Five minutes later, hearing a huge noise, I bounced up and ran out to the poppa, the stern, to take a look.

Captain Nardella, 36, knife in hand, was stripping off, heading into the crashing water. A fisherman’s trawling net was tangled in the motor. If he couldn’t get it loose by hand, he would have to cut it. He knew that if he didn’t free it, we would have to wait for the fishermen to come to us, which would take hours, equivalent to a flat tire in the middle of nowhere in a storm.

Dripping, he came up onto the deck and revved the motor stronger, standing in his wet tee-shirt. I offered him a dry one. He wouldn’t take it, the wet shirt drying on his body in the cool wind. His bare legs were exposed; hairy, tan and strong. Once he was sure we were out of danger, he felt the cold. A deep chill set in alongside the exhaustion. He bundled in a wind parka while I took a turn on watch.

Sitting cross-legged with my back to the boat, I told Tony to rest his head in my lap. It would keep my legs warm and give him a place to lay his head. There were no other dry places to sit on the boat. He collapsed and I covered him in the only wool blanket on board.

Jumping into the waves had been heroic, risky and a bit renegade. A short rest was in order. He was tense and trembling. Trying to get a few winks in between watches is a captain’s classic dilemma. He would get comfortable, then shoot up to look around, then close his eyes again.

I stroked his forehead, trying to relax him. It relaxed me as well. We were in this together. He turned onto his side and ever-so-gently put his hand on my crossed leg to brace himself. It was the touch of a gentleman. I looked down at this man in my lap, this hunk of courage, so gentle, sweet, capable and intelligent and…felt a pull in my heart. His broad shoulders fit into the curl of my legs. It was not just his love of the sea, his spontaneous opera when at the helm, he was not only a capable captain, but a sensitive intellectual with a PhD in wild orchids. (Napoli was once the cultural capitol of Italy and the place to send your children to be educated.)We spoke once, on the bow of the boat, about his good fortune. He was full of gratitude to be born in Napoli, the son of a doctor, at the foot of Vesuvius in a village of sailors. He spoke willingly about his Napolitanita, how they thrive on drama, deep feeling and the friggatura; the clever getting away with va fan cuolo rule-breaking that delights a free soul and their appetite for living in the flesh, eating well,living large, simply and sensibly.

When the elements were with us, instead of against us, sailing with him was a blue dream, like being on the back of the surfboard of a skilled surfer, going up and down the swells with controlled abandon. Whehew! Fantastico! Che pezzo di oumo! What a man!


How I appreciated the man he had become. One to scoop up, to have and to hold. It wasn’t the years between us or the fact that he was already taken that made it impossible. Or that I have no Neopolitanita’ in purezza to match, fiery and demanding enough to hold the line. Nor do I have soft cappuccino-colored skin. It wasn't about that.

I missed in that moment, a man of my own to adventure with, wondering if there is such a match for me. There was no rain, but my cheeks were curiously wet. Emotions tumultuous as the the sea.

Then I realized; I am forever meeting and adventuring with amazing men and women in my work, all the time. Relationships can be geographical, about place, and connection. About the wind. Something unspoken. A glance. Trying to keep others and each other safe in a storm. An unconditional relationship, strong, available and true.

A smile cracked through like the sun.


Tony Tony, moi e Anello, Amalfi portmaster.
We eventually arrived safely in port after 22 hours of rough seas, what normally takes 16 on smooth. The drama, and the tenderness, now a thoughtful memory.