With so many incredible Tuscan restaurants, it’s hard to pick a favorite

Montecarlo has more than a dozen restaurants, all of five-star quality. I wish we had the budget to dine out more often, but we don’t. Besides that, Lucy is an excellent cook in her own right, and furthermore, it is possible to buy restaurant quality meals at a rosticceria, or tavola calda, places which provide what is basically home cooking to carry back to your dining room. We have one of these nearby in San Salvatore, the macelleria of Luigi Bianchi and his family (they will even deliver). And even the prepared food at the supermarkets is great here.

Angiolo shows off the mushrooms that we
will soon be eating.

But we do occasionally dine out, especially when we have visitors, and so we’ve tried about half of the restaurants. This week we tried one new to us, Ristorante dal Pallini, and we’d have to call it a new favorite. Considering the high quality of all the other restaurants, this is a strong statement in its favor. Just what impressed us so much? I’d have to say it was the welcoming congeniality of the family that owns and operates the place. The cook, Angiolo, came out of the kitchen to explain how he prepares his risotto and to show us the fresh porcini mushrooms that had just been delivered from the Garfagnana. His wife Gloria and son Rumen checked on us and chatted with us periodically throughout the meal. Our friends needed gluten-free meals, and Gloria and Angiolo suggested several possibilities. Angliolo even invited me inside to view his sparkling clean kitchen.

Kathryn digs into some
exquisite risotto ai funghi.

What can I say about the food? I am neither a gourmet nor a picky eater, but I can assure you that it was every bit as fresh, authentic and delicious as the other fine restaurants in Montecarlo, but a little less expensive. We were fortunate enough to have picked a perfect day to dine outside, under the shelter of a sun umbrella, but the restaurant also has ample inside dining space. Perhaps the greatest drawback (though not for us) is the unusual location. Frankly, we don’t know how it can compete, because the average visitor to Montecarlo would not even know it exists. It’s at the end of a moderately rough dirt road outside the city walls on the west side. Any tourist parking in the main lot would simply walk down the streets of the historic center and pick one of the more visible options.

Lucy chose an antipasto misto instead
of a primo piatto.

Pallini is about a five-minute walk from the Porta Nuova. Start at the end of via Roma, go down the stairs and continue about 50 meters on a rough and uneven gravel road. At the T, turn right and follow the dirt road about 200 meters. They are open for both lunch and dinner. We hope the word spreads, at least among the locals, of this exceptional restaurant. We’ll do our part to give it some business when our guests ask us out for a meal!

 

 

One more small step: Enrollment in the Italian health care system

After dragging my feet for a few years, I have finally enrolled in the Italian health care system. Lucy and I have divided our lives between Italy and the USA for 14 years now, and a question we’re sometimes asked is how we take care of our medical needs while abroad—a very good question, indeed. The short answer is that we took our chances that we wouldn’t come down with a major illness in Italy, not necessarily the smartest idea, but, per fortuna, it came out OK.

I retired from teaching in 2010 at age 57, and since Lucy and I are essentially the same age, we didn’t yet qualify for Medicare. To tide us over until we reached 65, we enrolled in Samaritan Ministries, a health care sharing program that saved us thousands of dollars while completely covering Lucy’s successful battle with breast cancer in 2013. We became residents in Italy in the 2016, so at that point we could have applied for the Italian tessera sanitaria, but by then we had enrolled in Medicare. This covered our medical needs while in the USA, but Medicare doesn’t provide health services overseas. Fortunately, we enjoy excellent health. We do our annual physicals and inoculations in the USA, and we knew that Italian hospitals would provide us with emergency treatment should a sudden accident or illness befall us while in Montecarlo.

One reason I didn’t enroll before is that I had received conflicting information about the cost. I didn’t want to pay an annual fee for something we probably wouldn’t need. But an additional reason is that I wasn’t sure how to do it, and I lacked confidence in my ability to wade through the bureaucracy with my still limited ability to communicate in Italian. However, as the years passed and my language ability improved, I realized these excuses were pretty flimsy. I just had to go to one of the ASL (Azienda Sanitaria Locale) offices and ask for help.

I chose an office near Lucca, about an hour-long bike ride. I could have taken the train, but I try to take a bike ride every sunny day, and this gave me a good destination. I had to go to three different offices before I found the right one, but once there, I easily explained what I wanted. I had all the right documents in hand for both me and Lucy: carta d’identità, codice fiscale and, for Lucy, her permesso di soggiorno. It turned out that residents under a certain income don’t have to pay anything. Within an hour of finding the right office, I received paper copies of our health cards.

The only problem is that the doctor assigned to us was in Segromino al Monte, eight miles from Montecarlo. That’s not far in car miles, but it would require us to go down the hill of Montecarlo and up another long hill. Google maps say it is 50 minutes away by bicycle, which is all we use for a good part of the time here. I had given the clerk the names of three doctors I knew in Montecarlo and Altopascio, but she said they had no openings. I asked her to give us any doctor near Montecarlo; she told me she could only search the list by name, not by location. She had already been looking for almost 10 minutes, so I felt obligated to say OK when she offered this doctor.

A few days later, I went on the ASL website to see if I could find a doctor in Altopascio who had openings for new customers, and I found five. Armed with this list, I rode off to another office, this time in Capannori, a little closer, only to be told that none of these doctors was actually available. However, there was a new young doctor just starting out in Altopascio, so I asked for and was granted a change to dottor Alessandro Fulceri.

Once back home, I did a web search to see if I could find his office and office hours. I found out that a well-known doctor in Altopascio had recently retired, and the ASL was not able to find a replacement. They advertised the opening a second time and received only one applicant, a third-year medical student. They granted him a provisional certificate, and he will serve in an out-patient clinic 18 hours per week in Altopascio while he continues his studies.

Dottor Fulceri

I’m happy to have a doctor closer to home and am not concerned about his lack of experience. New doctors are often more current on new techniques and procedures, and there’s a good chance he speaks some English if we have trouble communicating in Italian. Next week, I’ll ride to Altopascio to see if we can get an appointment to meet him and get the latest Covid vaccinations. Meanwhile, I feel a little swell of pride that I was able to surmount another hurdle without having to rely on my Italian friends.

 

Climbing Monte Piglione—this day could not have been better!

Davide and me on the northern
peak of Monte Piglione.

I had the privilege of hiking in the Alpi Apuane mountains Saturday with perhaps the second best guida turistica in Italy, Davide Seghieri (sorry, Davide, but the top tour guide is still your wife Elena). Of course, Davide is not actually a guide by profession, but he certainly chose an ideal destination and route, not to mention that he also ordered up perfect weather—clear and mild.

The rugged peak of Monte Croce, which is also visible from our terrazza. With a cameo appearance from a bird.

We drove together for about an hour northwest of Montecarlo, past the village of Pescaglia, before the road turned too rough to continue by car. We started hiking at an altitude of perhaps 600 meters (about 2,000 feet), and it took us about an hour and a half of steady hiking to reach the northern peak of Monte Piglione, which has an altitude of 1,233 meters (4,045 feet). We stayed at the top for a half hour while we ate a light lunch and marveled at the 360-degree view.

The weather-worn trailhead sign.

Because of the unusual clarity of the air, looking west we were able to see the Ligurian sea and the cities of Viareggio, Pisa, Livorno and La Spezia. We could also faintly see through a light haze the islands of Elba, Corsica and Capraia—and even all the way to the mountains above the Italian and French Rivieras.

The peninsulas and the small island in the background protrude beyond the bay of La Spezia. Monte Matanna is in the center.

Here we are on the ridge ready to climb to the northern peak.

Looking north, south and east, we saw dozens of other mountains, including the impressive gray cliffs of Monte Croce, Monte Matanna, Monte Prana and the interestingly named Foce del Pallone, which translates as “mouth of the balloon.” As Davide explained to me and I later looked up online, the ridge is named after a balloon that became famous in 1910 and 1911 when a wealthy family that owned a resort and restaurant on Monte Matanna found an unusual way to transport customers up the mountain. They used a large balloon attached to cables that could lift as many as six people at a time. The balloon lift, though expensive, quickly became famous and carried wealthy people, including the king of Belgium, up to the exclusive lodge. However, its success only lasted six months, because one cold and windy day in February of 1911, a violent storm destroyed the balloon and its hanger.

Here we're looking south to Monte Prana, with the Mediterranean Sea and Viareggio in the background.

Davide told me the names of many of the other surrounding mountains, and it seems he has climbed at least half of the major ones. Monte Piglione actually has two peaks about 1150 meters from each other, connected by a ridge. We ate lunch on the northern peak and then walked to the slightly lower southern peak. From there, we could see Montecarlo, so now I knew that Monte Pigliano is one of the mountains we can see from the terrazza in our home. I waved to Lucy and even called her on the phone, but it was only in our vivid imaginations that we could see each other from such a great distance.

In this view from our terrazza, Monte Piglione is just to the right of the tree trunk. Note that there are two peaks, joined by a ridge. Davide and I are waving to you from the southern peak, ha! On the far right is Monte Croce.

Ripe blackberries on the trail.

Davide makes a great hiking companion, as we seem to have similar personalities. I was pleased that I was mostly able to keep up with him, since he is 14 years younger and extremely fit. For my benefit, he chose a destination that was only moderately taxing, and it is one that I will definitely want to repeat. Who wants to join me next time? 

My first cinghiali siting in Tuscany!

Finally, finally, I saw a cinghiale—a wild boar—in Toscana! Actually three cinghiali at once, in a ditch near the Lago di Sibolla. We’ve been coming to Italy for months at a time since 2011, we live in a relatively rural area, and we like going hiking in the woods, so it’s surprising to me that previously we’ve never seen a single boar.

Not my photo, but a good representation of what I saw.

We’ve seen many places where cinghiali have disturbed the ground to dig up roots, and we think we heard some rustling in the bushes at the Padule di Fucecchio once (we ran away, so we’ll never know what it was). We’ve seen a fox (three times), wolves (once), and last year I saw a deer crossing the road coming up the hill to Montecarlo. Last week, after doing some bird-watching at Lake Sibolla (I watched at least 100 herons in simultaneous flight), I rode my bike on a nearby trail that ran along a mostly dry canal. With a squeal of alarm, up popped a big boar, followed by a sow and a cinghialino. They fled up the opposite bank, too quickly for me to get a photo, and disappeared into the bushes.

A typical hunters' blind.

The website Italy Segreta says that the wild boar population in Tuscany is estimated at 150,000, while their only wild predators, wolves, number around 530. The site goes on the say: “. . . wild boar populations have risen exponentially. To boost the boar-hunting industry, national park authorities introduced a stronger and more ‘prolific’ species of Northern European wild boar from the 1950s until 2010, when they realized population numbers had gotten out of hand. These sows can give birth to a dozen boarlets every six months, which grow to be strong and, often, dangerous; an adult boar can weigh up to 200kg and stand up to a meter tall. Boar cause over 2,000 car accidents a year and some direct injuries—although deaths from (the bullets of) hunters during the boar hunt are more common (than deaths from collisions).”

Tuscany has a love-hate relationship with cinghiali, as many restaurants offer pappardelle al ragu di cinghiali and other specialties made with the prized meat.

“When it comes to wild boar meat nutrition, domestic pork can’t even begin to compare,” says the website of the butcher shop Beck & Bulow of Sante Fe, New Mexico. “This meat is a great source of zinc and healthy monounsaturated fats. It also contains thiamine, riboflavin and niacin. These vitamins help our bodies to convert food into energy, boosting metabolism, nervous system and brain function. Wild boar is very lean and much lower in cholesterol and calories than pork, while containing higher levels of protein. Because they are wild animals, wild boar enjoy a robust nature and are far less prone to illness and disease than domesticated pigs. Our wild boar meat contains zero sodium, while farmed pork contains extremely high levels. For this reason, wild boar is a much healthier choice for heart health.”

The hunting season in Tuscany usually runs for four months, from October through January, though only for three days per week: Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. Our home is near enough to a forested area that we can hear the popping of rifle shots in the morning hours. I’ve also walked through the woods during the off-season and witnessed several hunting blinds. Once, when hiking in the Valleriana area, Lucy and I found a large pile of bread scraps, obviously left by hunters hoping that the cinghiali would become accustomed to coming to that area for a good meal—and then become a good meal themselves when hunting season began.

A field of corn devasted by cinghiali in Toscana.

The main complaint that Italians have is that cinghiali wreak havoc on farmlands. A herd can quickly destroy many acres of corn, wheat and other grains. They also eat grapes and dig up roots in vineyards. The website Visit Tuscany writes that “a 50 kg boar needs around 4,000-4,500 calories per day . . . a boar may weigh from 50 to 180 kg and eats bulbs, tubers, roots, acorns, wheat, corn, eggs, birds, small rodents . . . almost everything.” I’ve seen television interviews with frustrated farmers who claim that cinghiali have destroyed as much as 50 percent of their crops. They also devastate natural fauna, which contributes to erosion and flood damage.

Here is a grassy field torn up by a herd of cinghiali.

While hunting is a popular sport in Tuscany and other regions, hunters can’t keep up with the burgeoning boar population. It seems that any effort to reduce the population results in the sows simply giving birth to greater numbers of cinghialini, so the numbers actually increase.

So with all the cinghiali out there, I doubt that the three I saw last week will be the last. Hopefully, Lucy will be with me next time, so she too can experience the thrill of discovery. And hopefully, the cinghiali will once again run in the opposite direction.