Umbria is called “the land of the saints,” and when I awoke with a start at 4:30 this morning to see the fog draping the hillsides, full moon aglow, hearing the distant tympani of cowbells and the soft bleats of the sheep, I understood saintliness at last.
We’re staying in a villa outside of Orvieto. Orvieto is known for its massive cathedral, its perch of a big table of tufa, its support for the papacy in the Guelph-Ghibelline conflicts, and, of course, its wine.
The wine is called Orvieto Classico, and it’s light, dry, a little fruity, and immensely refreshing as you’re pondering the possibilities of sainthood in the fading evening sun. It’s incredibly hot here during the day, although a cooling breeze sighs through in the late afternoon. Orvieto Classico is like that – a little cooling breeze on a hot summer day.
We’ve been drinking what appears to be a non-vintage production by Bigi, called Orvieto Classico Amabile. “Amabile” seems to mean “friendly,” (okay, it actually means "less sweet") and this is definitely a friendly little wine, perfect with our afternoon snacks of bruschetta and insalata caprese. A couple of glasses, and everyone becomes a little more kindly disposed, particularly towards the friendly, flea-bitten tomcat who seems to have come with the villa. We give him a little leftover chicken, some cat food from the pantry, and a cup of milk, then sit back and enjoy the sunset, and understand where St. Francis came by his inspiration. Pace, mi amici.
It's amazing how eloquent you get when the Italian sun and countryside finds you pleasantly full and slightly buzzed.
Still jealous... I don't exactly live in Beirut.
Posted by: Suenarita | July 31, 2007 at 11:52 AM