Slow Food Italia.

Well, it’s still raining. As much as I like looking out at our panorama of the mountains, it would be nice to view them bathed in sunlight.
We stay local again and go down to the town of San Ruffina. This morning is the only day this week the museum of wine making is open. We are their only guests.
The museum serves as a work program for special needs adults. There is one man fluent in English assisting the other 2 whose job it is to give the tour. One man has Down’s syndrome. He was raised on a farm making wine. He knows the equipment and the process and has several tales to tell about the harvest and social gatherings involved. The other man hovers and listens. Our guide fills in and bridges the translations.
Back in the days when all work was done for the Dukes and Lords of the manor, this area was designated as the Chianti industry. Grapes grown at our location are the proper altitude for Chiati Ruffina and white Pomino wine. We learn about the wine, the bottles and the transport. The whole museum is set in an old cantina- where wine was stored and aged. We are then escorted then to the Enoteca- the wine sampling studio. It reminds me of a scene in Raiders of the lost Ark…Miriam’s bar- the wooden tables, white walls, archways and large bar. They don’t actually open until April but we view the bottles and labels. I’m terribly distracted, though, because the sommelier has arranged his hair using a plastic blue hair clip.
Next, I’m off to the laundromat. I know now to expect a social scene, especially on a rainy day. I make do fumbling with my coins and phrase book. We’re clean for another week.
Our dinner is planned. Our host family has prepared a traditional Tuscan meal. It’s 8:00 and the party begins- Brett and I are given a shot glass and the equivalent of a martini (another Miriam flashback). That’s the first course. “Ching ching.” Riccardo, our farmer here has prepared his own smoked meats- prosciutto, salami, pepperoni. We are offered cheese with pepperoni marmalade, homemade vinegar pickles, the meats, olives and, of course, homemade Chianti. There is a warm fire, several cats and a large dog to add to the ambiance. We are at the table with dictionaries for all the translations. Our kids are thrilled with the next course- potato filled ravioli with Tuscan meat ragú. We dig in. Our first bottle of wine is low and another is brought to the table. DD6 gets up to work a puzzle. It’s almost 9:30 and we’re ahead of the main course. When it arrives, Brett and his several glasses of wine practically applauds. Roasted potatoes and tenderloin! We finish the night with Tiramisú…(DD6 says it just right) and DD8 keeps repeating “molto bene!” and another round of liquor- home brew grappé and niccoro...Why am I wearing this boar's head and typing?
Our hostess explains that she prepares food that is typical to a home of this region, but not a restaurant. "It's not possible for me to cook many things all day. I choose the food and can spend 2-3 hours only to cook. You must eat what I choose. In a restaurant they must cook many things quickly. Here it is a few things slowly. All are products of the farm."
We're adding a few more days to spend at Antonella's table.