After dinner last Friday night at La Riffa, we were offered roasted chestnuts and vin’ santo, wine of the saint. Delicious! It reminded us of how good, simple and real things can be. Sure, vin’ santo is available in grocery stores, but it’s not the same as the drink that is home-made, hand-made. When we asked about where we could buy the tastey drink, the answer was brief. “Non e possibile. Nostri amici lo fanno solo per la famiglia vostra e i vostri amici.It’s not possible. Our friends make it only for their family and their friends.” What??!! We couldn’t buy it. What to do, what to do. . .

Saturday morning we had our destination set: Volpaia.  There, on the outskirts of town is a tiny shop that offers honey and home-made vin’ santo. It would be worth the 1+ hour drive just to buy another authentic version. But since we were going south, why not stop for lunch on the way at Sor Paolo? Great idea!

At around noon, we climbed into the car and headed down the hill. We had to cross Florence, from the northeast to the southwest. Then, over the Vittoriabridge and through Certosa and Galuzzo. We negotiated the round-about beside the autostrada and zipped south on the SI-FI (the superstrada between Siena and Firenze). After just a couple of minutes we came to the San Casciano exit. It was just after 1pm—lunchtime in Italy. Assolutamente perfetto, absolutely perfect!

 

Sor Paolo is a restaurant with a lot of character. There are old treadle sewing machine bases that serve as table legs. Every once in a while, someone’s feet press a little too firmly on the treadle and a faint whirring sound accompanies the startled faces. In addition to the ambiance, another draw is one of their specialties, pollo alla diavola, chicken of the devil. The flavor is a combination of spices, probably aglio, garlic, sale, salt, pepe, pepper and olio, oil, but the star flavor is the pepperoncini, little hot chili peppers that bite your tongue and taste wonderful. Pepperoncini can be found in a jar. But the most popular form is in flakes. A quick shake of the wrist and you can spice up spaghetti or melty smoked provolone cheese. A pizzeria will usually offer oil in which the chili flakes dance. A splash of this across a calzone or pizza and your temperature goes up by 5 degrees. It’s the pepperoncini spicey zing and heat that gives the alla diavola designation to dishes on the menu. We shared the chicken and finished our meal with a caffè normale, an espresso. Then on to Volpaia.

 

Volpaia on a Saturday afternoon in the fall is quite a bustling little village. The main coffee bar was just finishing lunch when we drove into town. We parked and walked down the hill to Giuliana’s. She met us at the door of their enchanting little stone casa di compagna, country house,  grinning. “Volete miele? Do you want honey?” She asked. “No,” we answered, “vin’ santo.” Ushering us in, she offered us a “taste” of the amber-colored liquid. One sip and we exchanged a look of agreement that said, “This is it! This is the real thing.”

 

“Vorremmo due bottiglie! We would like two bottles!” Giuliana slid them into a 2-bottle box and then opened a nearby closet. There, she had a sack of chestnuts that she and her husband, Enis, had collected. She scooped a couple of handfuls into a bag for us, chattering all the while. What a delightful pair they are—they seem happy to see us and are always ready to talk!

As we climbed into our car at about 4 pm or so, we mused that we had just experienced another one of those “Italian Moments.” In fact, the entire day was actually quite unusual, sandwiching Sor Paolo and Volpaia together in one afternoon. You might think of it as a little journey from Hell (with the pollo alla diavola) to Heaven (Enis’ vin’santo) along with true Italian conversation with two of the sweetest people on earth. In all fairness, we admit that it was more heaven than hell—one of those perfect afternoons that will surely be repeated again . . . and again!

Posted on October 30, 2010

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