Our first real Pasquetta in Tuscany

Boating on the Padule on Pasquetta.

For the majority of the past 12 years, Lucy and I have celebrated Easter Sunday while in Tuscany—but this is the first time we really participated in Pasquetta, an important Italian tradition celebrated on the day following Easter. Pasquetta—literally “little Easter”—is a civil holiday, with little of a religious nature. However, some maintain that it is celebrated with an almost religious fervor because it is so deeply ingrained in the culture. Traditionally, it is a day for Italian families to venture into the countryside for a day of picnics and outdoor fun. Most factories and stores are closed, though many restaurants remain open.

The reason we’ve not celebrated Pasquetta is that our family here consists of just Lucy and me. True, I have a large extended family in Tuscany, but Pasquetta celebrations usually involve the nuclear family. My closest relatives are third cousins, and even then, I’ve only known them for a few years, so we’ve never really been involved in this important tradition beyond watching families meander down the picturesque streets of Montecarlo.

The difference this year is that we went to an advertised event called Pasquetta in Padule at the Casotto del Sordo near Massarella. Because of my affection for the Padule di Fucecchio, I had ridden my bike to the Casotto del Sordo about a week ago, not really knowing what to expect. To me, it had basically been just a dot on the map on the edge of the Padule. I have since learned that this little shack was built in 1923 by a man who had returned badly injured from World War 1. Among his injuries, he had lost his hearing and had been given the nickname Il Sordo, meaning “the deaf.” Now the Casotto is managed by an association of hunters, fishermen, landowners and local residents concerned with maintaining and improving the ambiance of the Padule. This swamp had once been a vital source of sustenance for the community, but in the later 1900s, it became somewhat of a dumping ground. Now there are several associations committed to cleaning it up and helping the public understand its importance to the ecosystem.

The Association Il Padule sponsored the Pasquetta event, which included food, drinks, scenic walks and boat rides. The group has built several other buildings adjoining the Casotto that were used for the preparation and sale of the food, and members have also added a covered outdoor eating area with picnic tables and benches. When we arrived in mid-afternoon, the parking lot was nearly full, and some 200 people were picnicking, lounging in the grass, playing football and volleyball, walking on the shores of the Padule, and lining up for rides in the barchini, which are small boats piloted by members of the association. Lucy and I took a stroll down to the canal while we watched ducks swimming and a number of large white and gray birds flying by. I wish I could say what the birds were, but I’m not great at recognizing bird species, especially in a country where I was not raised.

Not my photo, but this is a Pittima Raela,
taken in the Padule. Photo by Enrico di Gregorio.

I read online that bird watchers and biologists performed a study of the Padule during Covid times. I used Google to translate a portion of the report: “39 species were recorded (a true biodiversity record) for a total number of 12,783 birds, among which the Alzavole (6,012) stand out, the rare Ibis (234), the Pavoncella (1455) and the Moriglione (749). There have been sightings of rare species such as the Bittern, the White Stork, the Spoonbill, the Flamingo and the Ferruginous Duck, and for the first time a small group of wintering night herons was also found (25).” Most of these birds are not found where I grew up in Western Washington, so I don’t feel so bad for not recognizing them.

Ciaccini and espresso

We did not pay for a boat ride this time, but it is now on our list for future adventures. We did sample a very regional snack named ciaccini, something we’ve never heard of before. I spoke to one of the volunteers, who confirmed that while it exists in other regions, it would be called something else. A ciaccino consisted of a very thin and round slice of fried dough, about the size of a pancake, seasoned with salt, olive oil and perhaps a few spices. For 3 euro, we each received two ciaccini affettato (with finely sliced prosciutto between them). Probably the most enjoyable part of the afternoon was the people-watching we did while eating and enjoying our tiny cups of espresso—old men standing close together while swapping tales; men, women, boys and girls playing calcio; little boys beating stalks of bamboo with wooden sticks; families dining and boating together; girls running and screaming; couples walking hand-in-hand. I have little doubt that we were the only non-Italians in the group, and that’s just fine with us. This is why we come here—to experience the Italian lifestyle that exists far from the touristy cities. For us, now, Pasquetta is more than just a word.