Cinghiale – Ugly but Yummy

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

Wild Boar – Cinghiale. They dig up crops, scare the bejeeezus out of tourists, and imagine this – one year ago the Italian army was sent in and told to shoot to kill. The ugly critters, found even in the streets of Rome, were or may have been carrying African Swine Fever which threatened the pazzilion dollar prosciutto industry. Some of the wild bad boys may have been getting a little too close to the gentile domestic sow. Sigh – isn’t that always the way.

Here in Pontelandolfo, we may not like their big ugly tusks charging at us but we do love the rich sauce you can make with the meat. The amazing steak and well, the general incredible taste that only free ranging, wild things can give us. 🎶 “Wild thing, you make my taste buds sing!” 🎶

Growing up in rural agrarian Somerset County, New Jersey, venison, wild turkey, peasant and other wild critters often graced the table. My dad told me that in the dark days of the depression, ground hog – which tastes remarkably like pig when made in tomato sauce – was often part of Sunday pasta day. My nonna told me the horror stories of picking buckshot out of teeny tiny sparrows or maybe they were black birds. When a flock flew over my nonno would hauled out the shotgun and BAM. Wee birds for dinner. I remember cleaning buckshot out of peasants and that wasn’t fun. But a family has to do what a family has to do.

Here in Pontelandolfo, we still have subsistence farmers who grow and process vegetables, raise animals for milk and meat and, gulp, remind me of my grandmother. They are kind, hardworking and loving people. We’ve integrated into the village’s rural lifestyle. Nope, I haven’t planted a thing except words on a page and a good will smile. Since, everyone thinks that because I spend my time at a desk, poor Jack will die of starvation, we are often recipients of parts of harvests and hunting. NOW YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING…

Thanks to a wonderful hunter, a giant chunk of cinghiale found its way to my freezer. Jack and our summer guests would not starve. Unless I was hosting a party for our contrada (neighborhood), there was too much to use for one meal. I put on my 4-H Cooking Club farm girl brain and thought – I know me thinking seems like an anomaly – but Shazam an idea. Yes! I would divide the meat and create three freezable dishes. Stew, pasta sauce and meatballs – all freeze well and will make Jack a happy cena.

First step, get out a big knife and divide the hunk. Based on no knowledge of boar anatomy, I think it was a thigh or butt. I grabbed one of my nonna’s giant stainless steel bowls – yes, I brought a few to Italy – tossed in leftover red wine, wine vinegar, apple cider vinegar and herbs. Why, you are wondering did I use a mix of vinegar. Simple, there was a little bit left in a few bottles. I also added diced garlic, fresh rosemary on the stem, thyme, pepper and salt. Plopped in the meat, covered it and left it in the refrigerator for two days. I think twice I remembered to flip it around.

Truth be told, I then had to succumb to google. Did I wash the meat after the marinade? I did. Did I mention, I throughly washed the meat before I dropped in the melange of acids. I’m glad I washed it. An important lesson was learned. Leaving boar in vinegar for 48 hours means it is tender and tastes like a hint of vinegar. Next time it will just be red wine.

I looked at the three big pieces of meat which were now no longer red. WHAT DID I DO? I was planning on taking one third to our friendly butcher and asking him to grind it. When I got there the first words were – in very marginal Italian – did my marinade wreck the meat?! He laughed. The meat absorbs the acids and changes color. I promised him some meatballs. He smiled at that too.

Cinghiale Balls!

There is something meditative about squishing a mixture of meat, grated cheeses, breadcrumbs, raisins, oregano, salt, pepper, basil and eggs through your sanitized hands. Because the meat wasn’t very fatty, I used more cheese and eggs than one might usually. Actually, I scooped in extra bread crumbs too. I ended up rolling about 30 balls this size.

Meanwhile on the stove, my giant stainless steel pot was hosting slow cooking freshly diced tomatoes, onions, garlic and green/red pepper. I wanted the fresh stuff to break down before I added jars of passata ( homemade tomato puree graciously left on my veranda.) In went the passata plus a couple of store bought cans of diced tomatoes. I was trying to fill the giant pot and freeze enough sauce for decades.

To make the sauce really rich, I have learned to add a mirepoix. Carrots, celery and onion were diced to almost a paste in my blender. That went into the pot then I stirred and waited. When it started to bubble, I very carefully placed each of those boar balls in the pot. Lid went on and I let the ragù slow cook for a few hours. The meat balls gave it not a gamey taste but a savory taste that one wanted to go on forever.

I could eat this sauce everyday!

I made enough sauce and meat balls for three of us to have a substantial meal. Nestled in my freezer are now three containers of sauce and balls for the future. Yummy. I thank the hunter who share with poor starving Jack.

We will talk about the stew another day. I am hungry and need to forage for local cheese,wine and bread.

Ci Vediamo

Midge

You too can cook, write, paint and enjoy village life in Pontelandolfo! Visit – www.cookinginthekitchensofpontelandolfo.com

Tawā Sushi Comes to Pontelandolfo

When Jack and I started this Italian life-style journey 10 years ago there were three things we missed about living in New Jersey – our family and friends, Jersey sweet corn and SUSHI. By our second year in Pontelandolfo, we were – ok I was – so jonesing for sushi that I insisted we search near and far for a restaurant. That year the only sushi joint we found was in Avallino and the sushi was not anything we would eat again. Thing sugar rice -yuck. I sighed. I cried and I wished on every star.

The stars came through! Giuseppe Sforza, an exceptional restaurateur, opened a world class sushi restaurant in – wait for it – hear me exploding with joy – in my home town!

Joy!!!!

Tawā, which means tower, sits under Pontelandolfo’s iconic tower and offers a world class experience. We knew it would. Giuseppe had been the proprietor of Landulphi a Latin themed pub. Latin like the language of our Italian ancestors. The menu was in Latin (with pictures), the waitstaff wore appropriate costumes, I mean uniforms, only beer was served and the food was fantastic. It was incredibly successful. A new version is being built in our historic center. But back to sushi. Tawā has been about a year in the making. Giuseppe is a stickler for detain and, even though I begged and pleaded and texted and shouted, he wouldn’t open until every detail was perfect.

Giuseppe, bless his heart, invited us to the prova. The night the chef and staff practice and get all the kinks out. It was a night to remember. What a gift of goodness. We learned that night that Tawā has a fixed price menu. No, not that plebeian all you can eat kind of fixed price but an opportunity to explore the delectable treats the chef is making daily based on the market and his muse.

We have been gastronomically entranced by the Percorso Tradizionale. Our first tasting was at the prova. We loved it so much we went back one day after Tawā opened to feast again. There were more courses than I could count and I was to busy groaning with happiness to take pictures of everything.

The wee bowl of white soup was magical. Fish broth with a hint of salsa di soia melded with a whipped egg and steamed, looked like the smoothest of flans. When the spoon pierced the cream, broth oozed up giving my tastebuds a smooth yet soupy feel. It was delightfully decadent. The salad, in the adjacent photo was celery, carrots and seaweed. Whoever sliced the celery into long thin lettuce like strips is a king with a knife. The sesame dressing rocked it.I loved every morsel.

Yes, of course there was sashimi and sushi nigiri. I particularly was impressed with the raw scallops served in the shell and topped with a frothy essence of the sea.

I better stop talking about the food, I am getting hungry and I am not close enough to Pontelandolfo to zip in, sit at the sushi bar, order a glass of wine and the apertivo. But domani!

Tawā is an asset to Piazza Roma. Giuseppe is great at marketing and people will visit our village from afar. I am so thankful to him for providing me with one of the things I miss most about New Jersey.

Ci vediamo prossima volta.

Midge

Literally Italy LLC
Stay tuned for our latest venture. Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo is more than just cooking. Playwrights Retreat is happening now and a Writer’s Retreat is on the schedule for June 2025! Visual artists may be next!

Urban Trekking in Pontelandolfo!

Whaaaaat? You want me to climb up those two thousand year old steps to look at some little thingy that means some rich dude lived here?

Not a rich dude’s crest but the Wind God!

That is exactly what I want you to do! Visit Pontelandolfo and explore the historic center by searching for gli stemmi – crests. The adventure in urban trekking will be fascinating.

Urban Trekking is happening in cities across the world. Annarita Mancini and I worked together to create a tourism guide for our medieval village that brings urban trekking to a different level. I’m the author and Annarita was the translator. Together we have published An Italian Treasure Hunt; the Quest for the Crests of Pontelandolfo. This guidebook provides readers with clues to unearth tiny pieces of art hidden throughout the village. It can be a team sport with trekkers challenging each other to find the most crests or a slow meditative look and walk.

This is not your typical tour guide. Like I would do something typical – yawn I’m bored thinking about it. You all know I spend a lot of time in Pontelandolfo blogging about life in a small Italian town. Some days I need a reason to get off my butt, leave the office and wend my way through the ancient alleys. My search for the crests was a great incentive to walk through the old part of town and get a sense of what life was like for my ancestors.

Annarita Mancini, who is an exceptional teacher of Italian, noted that having the clues written in both English and Italian not only make the book useful to more people but is an excellent way to explore a new language.

It really took a village to create this book. One day writing in the Pontelandolfo Library, I discovered a stack of faded little blue pamphlets called Stemmi gentilizi a Pontelandolfo written by researchers/authors Litterio Villari and Pia Piacquadio. With a donation to the library, I grabbed a pamphlet and accompanied by Maria Vittoria Albini raced out of the building in search of a crest.

Battista Family

Local historians Carmine Fusco and Antimo Albini assisted in the project by reading the draft and adding bits of local lore. Pontelandolfo residents (and Nonna’s Mulberry Tree subscribers – hint hint) Mariann Prigioni and Jeff Millard had the trekking task of following the clues to see if one could really find all the crests.

Now, local visitors to Pontelandolfo can get a copy of An Italian Treasure Hunt; the Quest for the Crests of Pontelandolfo and also do some urban trekking. It is only an E-book now. Hard cover to follow when I get to formatting it. Yikes, who knew self publishing would be work?

E-readers will follow the clues and photographs of family crests on their phones. Actually, I think this is the best way to use the book. On your phone you can enlarge the photos and refer to the map. This quest for the crests offers a unique and captivating experience that is challenging, fun, creative and exciting! Perfect for adults, children and families. So, grab your camera, walk around beautiful Pontelandolfo, discover the riches of history and unearth hidden ancient traditions.

Book 1 in our Urban Trekking Series – Any town want to hire me to do theirs?

E-book versions of An Italian Treasure Hunt; the Quest for the Crests of Pontelandolfo are currently available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and other retailers.

Ci vediamo in Piazza Roma a Pontelandolfo!

Midge Guerrera

Fernando Fiat and the Sand of Morocco!

Fernando Fiat loves an adventure as much as any other Fiat. (Those of you who have read Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos have tracked his journeys.) The other morning I got up, looked at Fernando, shuddered and screamed “Where have you been?” The car was covered in sand! Did it take me on the quick trip to a beach on the Adriatic? Had it accompanied me to the neighboring village’s Beach Volleyball tournament? No! The 500 XL shuddered a bit and looked at me with “do you still love me“ headlight eyes.

Then it hit me – like a dune in the eye. Morocco! The high flying Sahara sands had covered my poor Fernando and he/she never got to enjoy Morocco. Seriously, there were no gifts on the back seat from open air bazaars, fabulous food containers were not perched on the back seat and make my tummy dance music was not playing on the radio. There was just sand. Years ago Mario, my cousin Carmella’s husband had explained the Moroccan connection. Being a testa dura, I had put the story away as folklore. Bo, it isn’t lore! Look at Fernando!

Itchy sand covers Fernando.

Everyone here knows about the sand. Everyone but me believes it comes from Morocco. I did what any baby boomer would do, I googled it. There are websites dedicated to the flow of the Sahara sand from Africa to Europe, the Caribbean and even the United States! Even NASA follows sand storms! NASA, seems to like the sand, and alerts us to this hurricane factoid – hurricanes hate flying sand! More sand means fewer hurricanes.

Dust plays a major role in Earth’s climate and biological systems. Since it is rich with iron and other minerals that plants and phytoplankton need, it provides natural fertilizer for ecosystems when it lands downwind. The airborne particles also absorb and reflect sunlight—altering the amount of solar energy reaching the planet’s surface. Dust can also promote or reduce cloud and storm formation, depending on other atmospheric conditions.

According to that same NASA article. Dust sounds like a good thing.

Living in Southern Italy I learn something new every day! Usually, it is about preserving a healthy harvest. I never thought that the unwashed Fernando Fiat could help me understand that sand, a simple grain, can have such a global impact.

Ci sentiamo,

Midge (www.midgeguerrera.com)

Have a happy rest of the summer!
Put some drama in your life!
Read a Play!
I am blessed to have – E-mail: 9/12, Wanda the Girl who Cried Witch, Many Snows Ago and soon Mamma Mia – La Befana?! – all published by Next Stage Press.

La Mostra È stato un Successo!

Sunday, September 12th, featuring the work of Rito Ruggiero, the veranda in front of our house was transformed into an outdoor gallery. We had two days to pull it off. The framed collection of work arrived Friday night. As we catalogued and created labels for the twenty pieces, our delight in Rito’s unschooled talent increased. Saturday morning, Jack, Rossella Mancini, my partner, and I went into overdrive. I only threw a hammer at Jack once – it missed.

Speaking of my husband, Jack Huber, he has an incredible eye for composition. (He married me didn’t he.) I have to give him all the credit for designing and hanging the show. Rossella and I were his somewhat able assistants. Saturday evening all the pieces were in place. The stage was dressed and we snapped pictures to continue our outpouring of digital publicity. Then we struck the set! Yup, we took all the work down. WHAT! The show was outdoors. Even though we have a gated home, between the weather and the potential for thievery we had to bring everything back into the house. Jack had made a diagram of what went where. I gulped and thought “how the hell are we going to do this on Sunday?”

Sunday morning the blue skies and bright sun created the perfect backdrop for the show. Annarita Mancini, my incredibly talented assistant, arrived and put on the caffè. Rossella and her terrific kids, Annalaura and Alessio, raced in. Everyone leaped into the fray. Silver arrows soon could be followed directly to our house. The veranda was swept, mopped and tweaked. Nicola Ciarlo arrived with flowers and arranged greenery. Jack’s diagram was essential – the art was rehung. Tables were set, viewing chairs set. Food and wine delivered. Annalaura took her place behind the bar. The giant banner was hung on the gate. More pictures were taken and quickly posted on social media. Our energetic team did a stellar job. Then I panicked.

Would anyone come? We had press in the daily paper, tons of social media inserts, direct invitations and wine – lots of wine. But would anyone come? At 3:59 PM I felt like a kid impatiently waiting for her birthday party to start. Rito arrived with his family. My stomach was in knots. Bing. 4:00 PM – no one. Merde. 4:10 PM the parade started. People came alone, in groups, with families or friends. I smiled and took a breath.

Rito, in blue, greets Carmine Fusco who arrived with a surprise.
Rito had drawn this when he was twelve. That was over 70 years ago. Carmine, a local historian had it in his collection.

We were quite pleased with the number of guests that not only came, but also purchased art. Our social media generated requests for information from potential buyers in the United States. For me, the highlight of the day was watching Rito do gallery tours for interested people. Explaining not only his technique but the inspiration and location of each piece. At one point, a group of the village’s young business people came and were asking questions, commenting and engaging with Rito in a passionate discourse.

Then it was over. Guests left, all was packed up, leftover wine was drunk and the team took a breath and went out to dinner. A celebration of accomplishment was in order. And you all wonder how I spend my time in a small Southern Italian village! Come to Pontelandolfo and see!

Ci vediamo!

Midge

Www.midgeguerrera.com

P.S. My 9/11 based play, E-mail: 9/12 will be available from publisher, Next Stage Press, on October 1st. Besides being a play, it would be a great addition to a High School or University history curriculum.

How Much? Don’t Worry!

I have always been really afraid of being somewhere and not having enough money to pay the bill. Maybe it is because when we were little, we really didn’t have enough money. In my earlier lean adult years, I would count my cash down to the penny and search the car seats for more. The thought of getting to the cash register cashless was one of those nightmares I never wanted to have, but often did. To this day, I check my purse and make sure my wallet is there. Then I check my wallet to make sure the money that was there last night is still there this morning. Minutes before entering a store, I again open my wallet to triple check for money. Maybe it is paranoia. Maybe I’m horrified of once again tossing stuff on the supermarket belt, watching the prices cha ching into the cash register, realizing I don’t have enough money and yanking things off the belt. This ever happen to you? Did you sink down below the counter? Frantically start pulling things off the belt? Or do what I have done, drop my head down in shame and slither away?

In Pontelandolfo, where everybody knows your name, not only is that not something for me to worry about, but I have had a hard time getting people to let me pay them. Trust and sense of community are important aspects of life in our little village.

True examples –

Jack went to our supermarket, Gran Risparmio, and filled the cart with things we needed. He never checks to see if his wallet is there or if someone picked his pocket. Oops, maybe he should have. He went to pay and was €20 short. Did he sink below the counter? Nope, the man at the register packed up the groceries, handed them to Jack and said pay me later. I was so embarrassed and ran back to pay. They were shocked to see us so soon.

Another day, I was behind an older woman in Conad, another miniature supermarket, she was mildly confused about what she was buying, what she was cooking for pranza and where her wallet was. Mariagrazia, the super nice cashier, looked at her smiled and said, “I know you will be back and you will have your wallet then.” It took all my actor training to remain uninvolved in the story. I wanted to A. Pay for her. B. Leap over the counter and kiss Mariagrazia. It was such a gentle moment and obviously one that has been repeated. My gut reaction was that someone else would be in later to pay for her.

One night, I bought a large group to Sesto Senso, my favorite local eatery. We had a fabulous seafood meal, enjoyed bottles of wine and sipped digestivos. I walked up to the cash register with a credit card in hand. Claudio swiped it in the machine. Then he swiped it again. I started to sweat. Shit, had I forgotten to pay the bill? Claudio, looked at me and said the machine doesn’t work. It has been happening all day. Pay us next time you come.

During the festa to end all festas – my 7 events for 7 decades birthday week – I booked a number of people to work with me, ordered all kinds of food and booze, hired musicians, a theater company, caterers and more. Getting prices was difficult. Creating a budget became such a nightmare that I soon tossed it into the nightmare trash barrel. Questa é Italia! Go with the flow.

We have an exceptional bakery, Diglio Forno, I ordered a carload of stuff for my British Tea Party. When I asked if they wanted a deposit they looked at me like I was crazy.

We have a talented guy, Vittorio, who provides theatrical lighting and sound for many of the major events in the region. I asked him to handle the technical aspects of my birthday weeks two public events. Getting a price was hard but getting him to take the money during the show was even harder. He too looked at me like I was from another planet. I found out that it often takes him months to be paid by the towns that hire him. I was an anomaly. Could I get one person to instantly accept the cash I had for them in an envelope? Don’t worry. Pay me later. Pay me after the show. Pay me next time I see you. Don’t worry!

During our Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo events we book hotel rooms for our guests and are never asked for a deposit. Actually, we end up paying after our group has left. The vineyards we visit for a food and wine parings, the agriturismo that hosts our welcoming luncheon and other collaborators never give us a bill but trust us to pay them. Trust. I think that is what living in a small village generates. Trust.

When I am not in town and need to send flowers for a funeral or birthday, I call Nella at her flower shop. She doesn’t ask for a credit card. She doesn’t tell me what it will cost. She simply creates an arrangement and delivers the flowers. When I am back, I pay her.

It isn’t that folks don’t want to be paid or don’t feel they deserve their stipend. I believe it has to do with a real sense of community. More than community, it is a sense of family. Those of us who live here are part of the familial fabric of the village. Family who treats each other like family. I’m guessing strangers in our midst might not be extended the same courtesy.

People who provide services, own shops or restaurants know their community. They know were their clients live. Know is the operative word. Knowing your neighbor and knowing who you can trust. Sadly, shop keepers tell me, that also means knowing who you can’t trust.

I think one of the reasons I feel so connected to Pontelandolfo – besides the fact that I can feel my nonna here – is that the life style and sense of community reminds me of the Flagtown, New Jersey. Growing up in Flagtown,when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, I spent my youth knowing everyone in that village and not worrying about falling off my bike because someone would pick me up. There was the same sense of familial community that I am blessed with in Pontelandolfo.

Just another reason to Visit Pontelandolfo!

Ci vediamo

Midge

Not Just an Ordinary Kid’s Camp

Kids fighting fires. Kids finding lost kids in the woods. Kids rappelling down from a building. Kids assessing environmental risks.  KIDS???  Thirty-eight lucky children between the ages of ten and thirteen got to explore exactly what it means to be part of Italy’s volunteer safety net, Protezione Civile.  They also got an adrenal rush and I’m sure will consider becoming future volunteers.

 Volunteers are a cornerstone of Pontelandolfo life.  They organize arts activities, social events, parish festivals and most important of all ensure that Pontelandolfese are safe, secure and assisted in time of need.  On call 24 hours a day, Protezione Civile Pontelandolfo, Civil Protection, is an organization of a highly trained and committed residents who are willing to leap into the fray whenever there is an emergency.  On the news, you have seen volunteers like them, in their yellow trimmed uniforms, helping with search and rescue after earthquakes, floods etc. In Pontelandolfo, I have watched them do traffic control, handle snow emergencies, guide people to safety, assist the Italian Red Cross and essentially intervene whenever it was necessary.  Click here for an example of their role with a 2015 flood and wind that knocked more than our sox off.

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Italians have big hearts and have always had a willingness to lend a hand.  After citizens mobilized independently to assist with the huge disasters that hit Italy in a fifty-year period, like the floods of Florence in 1966 and the Friuli and Irpinia earthquakes, it was recognized that an organized public system of deployment was necessary.  In 1992, Protezione Civile, the National Service of Civil Protection, by law became an integral part of the public system.

This is serious business.  The region organizes drills which simulate real risk situations.  Since we live in an earthquake zone, our village hosted an earthquake drill.

It is so serious, that future leaders and volunteers are fostered through an annual exceptional week long summer camp.  With the support of the National Department of Civil Protection, the Comune of Pontelandolfo and in collaboration with Protezione Civile di Fragneto L’Abate, Gruppo Comunale di Protezione Civile di Bisaccia, and Protezione Civile Irpinia di San Potito Ultra, Stefano Baldini, the head of our local Protezione Civile, and his team of volunteers organized Il Campo Scuola 2019.

tent
This coed camp had all the cool out door experiences.

From July 1 through July 7 this year, kids did the usual camp stuff like setting up and sleeping in a tent, they also were immersed in theoretical and practical civil protection training courses.  What school in the summer???  Who would want to do that??  These kids certainly did. Besides it wasn’t all work and no play.  Some of the work looked pretty exciting.  The young trainees had to apply for admittance.  The program was totally free!  Participants came from Pontelandolfo, Morcone, Fragneto Monforte, Bisaccia, Sant’Angelo A Cupolo, San Potito, Aquilonia and Flumeri.  Bringing kids from a variety of towns together makes sense.  All of the individual Protezione Civile groups often work with each other.  If it is an emergency or a giant festa that needs crowd control, we see uniforms from a variety of places.  The kids working together at this age starts the collaboration ball rolling.

I remember being forced to go to Camp Speers ripping my forearm with a bow string and belly crawling with a 22 rifle.  I hated every minute of it.  If there had been some academic portion or if the firing a rifle was being taught for a real purpose I might not have fought tooth and nail not to go.

kid injury
Nope, not injured. Just learning how to carry an injured person.

These campers got lots of physical activity and real-world experiences.  Here is a quick overview – set up a field operation – yup put up the tents, rig electrical system etc.; over view of the National Civil Protection system; municipal contingency plans – what??  I have to pause here and tell Jack.  My husband spent most of his adult career working in emergency preparedness planning.  I bet after this camp some of these kids could write better municipal contingency plans than some of the town plans Jack read when he was with the State Police.

classkids

OK, back to the grueling week – they had a lesson on cartography ( I had to look the word up – science of drawing maps); figuring out territory orientation;  using a map and a single compass figuring out a path through Mountain Cavello to lunch!  No one got lost!!!  I would have been found weeks later sitting on a log begging to go home.  These kids were GREAT!.

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How many stories up is this??

After a lesson on the seismic conditions of our region and what to do if an earthquake hits, these kids leaped to another disaster.  What do you do if someone is trapped high up on a hill with a broken leg or in a burning building?  You use a safety harness, zip wire or rappel.

firekid
Team effort of numerous Protezione Civile groups.

I’m exhausted just writing about all that they accomplished. And the list goes on – fire safety and protection, hydroeological risks (looked this up too – distribution and movement of groundwater in the soil and rocks of the Earth’s crust), use of radios for communication, working with canine units, forest fire rescues, searching for missing people, working with people with disabilities and…….

Complimenti!  Bravi!

The kids who will be the leaders of tomorrow deserve a big round of applause and so do the volunteers of Protezione Civile Pontelandolfo who give their time, energy and love to our little village.

Ci vediamo.

Snow Shut-ins

Can we talk? Sometimes life in my charming little Italian village makes me want to scream! Or if not scream, shake the powers that be until sense falls into place. It snowed. This is an anomaly here – especially in December. Last December it felt like fall. Those weather belts do keep changing. No one expects snow in December – maybe that is why I should have a kinder gentler feeling about… errrrrgggg.. that scream is bubbling up again.

We knew it would snow because I received numerous alerts from the town that said it might snow for three days – “make sure you have fuel for heat, food and something to keep you from going stir crazy.” Being from the North East of America where we scoff at snow, plows are out instantly and we drive in anything, I thought the alerts were a little over the top. NOT!

We had a house full of holiday guests and plans to go out and do holiday centered stuff – then it snowed. Day one – snow – about an inch – no one plowed or salted the local streets. OK, not a big deal. I know money is tight and we can drive over this. Downtown, no one had shoveled the sidewalks either. Hmmm, aren’t building owners responsible for that? Not a big deal – again only an inch. Local holiday events were cancelled and even worse news – restaurants were closed – hey, it was only an inch but still coming down.

A Gorgeous Inch of Snow Frosted the Mountains.

Day two – more snow – a lot more snow and we had to get my niece to the train station in Boiano. We heard the state highway was closed going west. Luckily, we had to go east. The local roads were not plowed or salted. Ice reigned supreme. We slowly left town and got to the highway. Now this is interesting. The highway in Campania was fairly clean and salted. The minute we crossed the regional line to Molise the highway had only been given one earlier pass with a plow, however the exit ramps were clean. Don’t the regions coordinate this stuff? We got to Boiano and back and cruised our village piazza. Nope, the sidewalks still had snow and ice and the piazza hadn’t been cleared. Shops were closed – I’m glad we had the necessities of life in the house – eggs, bread and wine.

Day three – lots more snow. I mean tons of snow. How would we get the last of our guests to their train in Benevento? Yesterday, the road was closed. First step, dig out the car. Done. Second step, dig out the top of the driveway near the unplowed road. Done. Third step – do we have to freakin’ dig out the street???? The train was due late in the afternoon, we figured we had some options. Sleds pulled by snow sheep sounded like the best idea. It stopped snowing – that was a good sign. Before the top of my head blew off, a back hoe started ambling up our road tossing snow off the middle of the street. Note, I said back hoe not a plow. He made a narrow path up the center of the road. We – OK not WE – Jack dug us to the center. We got in the car and wondered what we would find. Again, the state highway was pristine. The views were fabulous and since Benevento is at a much lower altitude it was an easy snowless drive.

Clean Highway and Luscious View

Later that afternoon when we got back to Pontelandolfo, we noted that the piazza still hadn’t been cleared and the sidewalks were awful. I asked about that and found out that building owners don’t have to clean in front of their buildings. So, obviously they don’t. Store owners only shoveled the boots width necessary to get into their shops. Don’t ya think it is time for a new piece of local legislation? The cobblestone piazza isn’t plowed, I investigated and discovered, one can’t plow on cobblestone – how about a snow blower or a shovel??? I don’t know the science but couldn’t they at least spread salt??? I do understand not plowing local mountain roads until it absolutely stops snowing – fiscal constraints and all that. BLEH, I really don’t but questa è la nostra vita.

There are somethings towns in Southern Italy do well. There are other things – not so well. The snow – well now I know – when you get the alert make sure you have heating fuel, food and lots of booze in the house. Jack just read this and pointed out – we did get wherever we needed to go. Get over it. Take a breath, look at the snow capped mountains and sigh at the beauty. Questa è Italia!

Ci vediamo!

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