The second exit refers to the turn-by-turn directions we get from our phones when we’re traveling from place to place and encounter a round-about. That almost always means, go straight. We’ve seen new places this trip and had some wonderful meals with family and friends. What a great bunch.
Went to a Robert Doisneau photography exhibit at the Lucca Center of Contemporary Art. I had never seen that many examples of his work. Most of it is subtly hilarious, if that’s possible. There must have been 50 pieces, presented well, lit well and advertised tastefully.
“The marvels of daily life are so exciting; no movie director can arrange the unexpected that you find in the street.”
There is a restaurant in the museum which is extraordinary. It is not exactly experimental but the menu leads to things like beef carpaccio served on a 4″ x 8″ piece of heated, slightly charred pine bark and chamomile ice cream with lemon.
Note from the chef:
“Food is a partner in our lives.
I am a privileged man because cooking gives me a chance to gift
a little bit of happiness in each of my meals.
I’ve started a group of photographs which are studies, pretty quiet studies, of Pietrabuona. The light here, this time of year, can be rare and one can happen on to it, camera in hand, time to time.
Last evening we went to San Miniato, not the church in Florence but the town further into Tuscany. It occupies the “Etruscan Position,” which means you climb a lot. The town was new to us. Couple of hours before San Miniato we were taken by friends to a restaurant in Corazzano, La Taverna dell’Ozio, that seats 40 people and must be reserved three months in advance. They specialize in truffles and I expected them to go overboard, just like home. Not so much. They serve locals, few tourists. The tagliarini with shredded truffles made me understand what there is to rave about. The over use of the actual truffle in the US had made me dislike them. Now I’ll just eat them here. The antipasti, about 15 of them, didn’t come from a jar, but were made by hand in their kitchen like the pasta, bread and desserts. I don’t normally eat sugar anymore but I had to try something… I had a small bite of what they call chocolate salami, because it’s sliced, and it was almost enough to make me want to start eating sugar again… not really.
When Franca was going through the bushel of photographs her mother left behind she found a tiny photo of her maternal grandparents that, amazingly, scanned and enlarged really well. I’ll include it here when we get back home. In the photograph her grandparents are reclining in the grass in front of a building Paolo owned at the time the photograph was made, with a couple of geese barely visible in the background. They are obviously content and must have be at ease with the photographer… whoever that was. After questioning some family members we had a pretty good idea where to look for it, especially since a tiny bridge was used as a reference. [Note: Even with the bridge reference we don’t have it yet.]
The area around that place is called Borgo Buggiano, elements going back a thousand years. As we drove through the countryside it was obvious the time for picking olives is approaching. The nets are laid out, waiting.
Leaving Buggiano we saw this old mill, now a residence in part. There are three arches remaining of the “aqueduct” which drove the mill wheel.
Lucca is always an inspiration, portals, graffiti.
And a triptych…
We’ll be in Florence Wednesday until the weekend. Never been there through the night to see the Arno and the rest of the city in that light or in the morning.