Bella Camogli

I leave Camogli with nothing but the best of memories. It was on our "short-list" back in '06 when we did a "shopping tour" of coastal villages to sometimes call home.
It was an also ran at #2.
Completely adorable, Camogli is like a favorite if slightly worn pair of shoes, a fishing village by right, it was a popular seaside resort in the 19th and early 20th centuries remaining so today largely with Italian families from Milan, Torino and Genova.
It is the embodiment of a Ligurian village. Beautiful vertical row housing along the promenade in multi shades of pastels. Notable too is the extensive use of trompe l'oile- fake windows, shutters and doors everywhere, a specialty of this area.
You come here for "la dolche na farente" (the sweet life of doing nothing) and so we did. For us it is an intimate alternative to the nearby and now too popular Cinque Terre villages. It is how we found the Cinque Terre to be 12 years ago.
It is compact, walkable if a little steep in places, train station in the middle, plenty of local shopping and resturants and with a 1/4 mile promenade along the sea and beach lined with cafes, resturants and shops. Belissimo!! This place is so real and so easy to slip into. The beach, a pebbled affair, but with turquoise water, common to the Ligurian coast was abuzz with Italian families. The promenade, perfect for sitting in a cafe, sipping a carafe of local white, watching the life go by. Families, children playing, lovers flirting, old men and women sitting and chatting, the rythms of life here playing out before me, it was the best.
For us the Cinque Terre has always meant great walking. The five uber-charming villages knitted together by an ages-old pathway offering outrageous views of the sea from vertigious if not a bit dangerous heights. Another of our top 5 walks and not to be missed. And we did not. It was glorious.
In '06 we had done a fantastic walk from Camogli to nearby San Frutosso Abbey, then not as planned not on to Portofino, huff-puff, too much. This time my back not up to the strenuous vertical hike, we opted to take a day ferry to ultra chic and ultra cute and photogenic Portofino, probably the most photographed town in all of Italia. And rightfully so, Portofino "fine port" is aptly named, but I could not find myself living here in this "fishbowl" of a village. An absolutely beautiful place to visit, sit in an harbor cafe and enjoy a chilled bottle of Prosecco. Again-so we did!!
Camogli is affordable Italian Riviera- our home the Albergo la Camogliese, an old turn of the century kind of place but upfitted with modern comforts, offering a full breakfast and 2 minutes to the beach/promenade.
The cafes of the promenade offered the perfect opportunity to sample the local Vermintino white wine by the carafe or bottle. A most civilized way to wile away that "dead spot" in the afternoon when nothing else is open.
The resturants offer typically local Ligurian fare and are mostly very affordable. One night a spaghettiteria located adjacent a pasta frescha shop offered up truly magnificant pasta dishes. Mine a frutti di mare, loaded with fresh mussels and clams and hers a penne with capers, olives, EVO and surprise, shaved pecorino. A couple of Becks and a perfect 25e evening. Another night found a similar nearby spot, I opted for the achuge (anchovies) fritto, caught out in the bay that morning and nothing like the fishy sorry excuse back in the States. prima patti was a flat dumpling with handmade, yes handmade pesto, coarsely pounded basil with pine nuts, EVO, garlic and parmesian. Yuuummmmy! Sandy had a cheese stuffed ravioli in walnut cream sauce, Awesome!! And again, a surprise, she ordered the pesche fritto. she does like fried fish and this was just off the boat.
If you're starting to think that these places are nothing special, you'd be partly right. Camogli has many of these small places offering simple, inexpensive high quality local fare. Menu shop, follow your nose or follow the Ialians, perfetto!
We did have one more upscale dinner at the Albergo la Camogliese resturant. Unlike the States, here hotel resturants can be and often are quite good. This one heavy on the pesche was cantilevered over the sea from the edge of the promenade and offered panaramic views of the town and of the Golfo Paradiso.
I was craving pesche griglio and no shortage of choices here. Mine a miste of swordfish, slices of some sort of long eel-like fish, john dory (flat fish) a huge prawn with claws and a nice plump gambretta. Craving gone, it was preceeded by an unremarkable gnocci in pesto. Sandy ordered a starter of 3 big cheese stuffed fried raviolis, bubbly and crispy on the outside, she said she could gladly eat another and call it dinner. My girl's trying to become a fish eater, she ordered the filetto brinzini (sea bass) grilled and slathered in EVO and served with roasted, sliced neew potatoes and little "nicesoise style" olives. She actually ate the entire fish first before eating the potatoes, unbelivable! tried a primo local Vermintino, just 18e, it was perfect, dry with plenty of acidity. Dolche of course meant chocolate souffle for Sandy but, chocolate almond torte for me? Sandy says, who is this person as I usually gravitate toward the fruity deserts. It was quite good.
A wonderful meal and a perfect evening to celebrate our 31st wedding anniversary, watching the sun set over little Camogli.
Caio,
Cousin

53024 Montalcino

Toscano for me is first and foremost it's hilltowns. I don't think you can really "get it" untill you have stayed in at least a handfull of these little gems.
First fact, they are always on a hilltop, safer up there cause someone was always trying to conquer you. Also, the streets are narrow and steep. Don't even try to think of driving into one. They are incredibaly photogenic, careful, or you won't be able to stop shooting. Finally, theres not a lot to do except chill, enjoy the ambience, the people, the local products, lodgings and resturants.
That being said, Montalcino is the quinticential living hilltown. Culinary treat, Brunello di Montalcino, Pecorino cheese, jaw dropping views of the Val di Orcia spread out in all directions. This is real Toscana. For me this is it. My first and foremost Italian love. Seemingly analogous to , say Roussillon and the Luberon of Provence, similar, yet each with it's very distinct personality. I was concerned upon my return after so many years I would find it corrupted. But I was pleasantly surprised to embrace a familar old friend.
So many choices, but favorites win out. For Sandy, this place means Pecorino cheese pizza and Ristorante-Pizzeria San Georgio. Unchanged, simple, un-preposing, an Italian family kind of place. Her, the Pecorino pizza of course- spectacular.
Me, a big basketof local porcini and truffles-- I could not resist. Start with zupa di fungi- nothing but the essence of fungi, so rich. Next a homemade tagliatale with thick shavings of tartufo (truffle) washed with 1/2 litre of rosso Montalcino, I was cooing like a baby over the mushrooms. desert, why yes of course when it was homemade torte prune, a shortbread-like crust with an intensely flavored plum preserves filling--oooh, waddle out the door!
Of all the walks we've ever made, certianly the top 5 would include Pienza to Montichello, a moderate 18K walk through the rolling countryside of the Val di Orcia.
First, however, on the drive over we were shocked to be flagged down in the middle of the road by a little old Italian grandma of at least 80. She had missed her bus but quickly conscripted us to ferry her to her home in Pienza, chattering in Italian the whole way, don't have a clue what she was saying, but she was so cute.
We both have been off our game in recent years but it was back for this glorious trek.
Oh, did I forget, the walk began at La Porta, shoehorned into the guardhouse of the main port of the Montichello city wall. Montichello is tiny, cute, but what we call a "museum town". Hard to imagine living there, but, back to La Porta.
Me, a simple but bright insalate mista with a twist. Petite mozza and fruit-like pomodorro, white beans and assorted veg on fresh greens. Sandy, a bit more exciting, little spinach "packet" gnocci- a potato ricota filling sauteed in EVO with a generour dusting of shaved pecorino. Ooh yum!! But the star may have been the quaff- 2004 Vino Di Nobile Di Montepulciano , jam in a glass!
Oh God, must walk- 13 miles and not so much guilt for all the feasting.
Night 2 and counting-yep! Back to theSt. George, imagine that, always associate him with the English- oh well.
Me, start with a massive char grilled portabello- it was beefsteak melting in the mouth. Secondi, local congilio (rabbit) in cacciatore (hunter sauce). it fell off of the bone- and yes, I know that was more fungi.
Sandy had a pecorino (notice a trend here too?) gratinee carmelized in a wood fired pizza oven then drizzled with local miele (honey) My God, it was breathless! My Sandy, version 2.0 and now always a surprise opted for wild boar stew over paperdelle pasta. Smells a tad funky but taste absolutely wonderful, especially with a generous helping of, yep, pecorino. Wash down with a bottle of Sasso Nero, an IGT Toscano Rosso blend of Sangiovese and Merlot, shades of a left bank Bordeaux and utterly delicious.
Day 3- baggage fiasco continues, pick-up a few clothes and such in Siena, not our choice of a day, but travel is what you make of it. Back on the hill we both need a chill out at the Bar Belvedere, a common watering hole with a wall of glass at it's rear, the jaw-dropping view of which I spoke. At first glance, a working man's bar, but surprise with a winelist most resturants would kill for-beer, rosso, Brunello by the glass to a 190e bottle of 1994 fatoria Barbi. Nibbles? How 'bout wild boar proscuitto, porchetta (roasted pork with rosemary, garlic salt and EVO)oh my God, crostini di lardo (yep! lard) oooohh---laaaard! Crackly pizzetta crust with olio and garlic-- didn't expect all that, did ya?
Oh, and the best Compari and tonic with bloodorange slice. I wax poetic upon a simple bar, but, you see, it's a square in the living fabric that is this place.
our home in montalcino means Via Moglio 9-- Affitacamere Nada. She doesn't speak a lick of English, but what a sweet B&B and at 50e, you just cant belive it.
Sunday and we leave tomorrow. Luggage fiasco is dragging us both down a little. Airline can tell us where it isn't, but not where it is primarily because Roma refuses to answer their queries. Frustrated we bomb down to Roma to find our baggage. Long story short, we find them in storage where the've been for days but we are eccstatic. Bomb back up to Montalcino and time to celebrate!!
Bar Belvedere and a bottle of Proscecco, grilled pecorino with honey. God I feel great!! Dinner, blow it out. Ristorante Re Di Macchia (recommended by our now friends at the Bar Belvedere) Bisteca Fiorintio, (t-bone) half a cow at 2 kilo (shared) char-grilled with EVO, rosemary, garlic and salt and a primo bottle of 2004 Brunello. Complete perfection!!! A little Muscadello di Montalcino with homemade biscotti and I'm done-too done. Waddle back to room, fat, dumb and oh so happy.
See you soon,
Cousin