Nonna Cicciona (NOH-nuh Chee-CHOH-nuh), a.k.a. "Fluffy Grandmother," you are a treasure. To the woman who tends her garden in a three-strand of pearls and shoulder-brusher earrings, who made homemade raisin cookies to leave on the windowsill for the "skinny" boyfriend of her granddaughter, Marti, I thank you. Being the dutiful guest, I ate them all, washing them down with espresso served in thimbles with handles. Don't be fooled--there's still plenty of punch in a half-finger of Italian jet fuel.
Nonna Betty was thrilled that I had a "beautiful mouthful of teeth." I saw pictures of her husband, Nonno Fabio, the mighty hunter. He had more hair and teeth on and in his head than most folks would EVER know what to do with. Now I understand her satisfaction with the American suitor for her beloved granddaughter. Last night, she prepared arrosto (roast beef) at the Garni Patrizia for the family. The salty tenderness just melted in your mouth, complemented perfectly by the roasted potatoes and cauliflower boiled, buttered and smothered in vinegar.
Balu, the great BEAST of the family, is a 200-pound Leonberger that bounds through the home, having trouble at first building speed, then difficulty effectively applying the brakes to stop his great galumphing mass, often finding himself crashing and sliding through the bed and breakfast. I'm assuming that he, like most Italian dogs, loves the pasta the family mixes in with his food, but only if it's FRESH. He's a monstrous shedding hulk of a creature, but he is absolutely the sweetest, most gentle giant and the perfect mascot for the Bernards. When he puts his great pumpkin of a head on the dinner table, lifting those eyebrows and looking around at those seated there, it's hard not to sneak him something from your plate. That face, those eyes--the word "no" just doesn't seem appropriate.
The cuisine is other-worldly, but my favorite part of mealtime with the in-laws is the song. They sing a song from Disney's "The Jungle Book"--IN ITALIAN--at the table. It's the vulture song, "That's What Friends are For." Mama Alessandra and Martina sing the higher parts, Papa Alessandro rumbles on basso profundo, and Brother Mattia tries to avoid the whole scenario entirely by keeping his mouth full of bread, pasta, or whatever's handy...at least until the family finds their rhythm. Then HE's the one with all the words and voices, as well as EVERY SINGLE CHARACTER's interjections during the song. Yeah. He presents a great cool face, but he's just as happy to be here as the rest of us.
More to come as this new adventure unfolds. Cookies, cakes, coffee, pasta--those pounds lost on the mountain will DEFINITELY find their way back. And they may bring friends...