Cascina Barac - Part Two

Today is my second full day in Alba / Cascina Barac. I have decided to not really make any plans for my time here and to just see what unfolds.

At breakfast, one of my hosts Katia asked me if I wanted to go truffle hunting. A quick cup of tea, change into my boots and jeans and we were off. There were six in our party: A couple from Florida, Giancarlo who was a guide/translator, Renaldo the hunter/tartuffola and myself. And Luigi the dog; the star of the show. On the drive from Cascina Barac to the area where we were going hunting for truffles (which coincidentally is right beside the Gaja Winery), Giancarlo was very good at chatting about and explaining not only about the truffles, but about wine production in the region, the rise and fall of the market, which seasons have been better than others, and the increase in agrotourism in the area. Having worked a number of years in higher end restaurants, I was able to tell him a lot about how we here in North America receive the end products of their labours, and how much we are willing to pay at times to receive them. When I told him how much the tartuffa d'alba actually sells for in a restaurant in Vancouver, he quickly translated to Renaldo, who was driving. I thought Renaldo was going to drive off the road. Renaldo said something back to Giancarlo in Piedmontese, which I took to mean something along the lines of "I need a bigger cut of the money, no?" Obviously, there is a big price discrepancy between what the truffle hunter works hard to find and sells, and what we as end consumers pay at the restaurant.

It turns out our guides were no slouches at this industry. I found out there is a Truffle School that dogs must attend to learn how to sniff out and find the truffles. And not all dogs have a nose for it. But Luigi is one of the best. I'm not sure which incarnation of "Luigi" we had with us. You see, Renaldo has been hunting truffles for many years, and over the years, each male dog has been named Luigi and each female dog has been named Diana. In fact, in 1999, he and his dog Diana found one of the largest truffles in the world near Buje, Croatia. The truffle weighed 1.31 kilograms (2 lb 14 oz) and has been entered the Guinness Book of Records.

Luigi also knows the difference in smell between a black truffle and a white truffle, even while it is still in the ground. If it is a black truffle, he is allowed to dig it up and bring it to Renaldo. If it is a white truffle, he must stand and point and wag his tale. This is for two reasons. White truffles are more valuable than the black ones, and they are also more fragile and damage quite easily. We watched Luigi find truffles the size of a pea under six inched of soil. Luigi has been known to discover truffles around stone walls, under bracket and under 2 feet of hard packed soil.

We spent about 3 hours hunting for truffles. The ones in my hands (right) were the biggest we found today, and I'm holding about $350.00 worth of truffles. Many were small, or were a bit old. Renaldo says, "No matter, for the soup!" I guess if you are working that hard to find these gems, you don't want to let any go to waste.

The fresh air and walking meant it was time for a short snooze before heading out for the afternoon.

Around 4pm, I said to myself, "Hey Self, I want to go see that church up there; it looks interesting." So I made the 25 minute uphill hike to Treiso. I had the road to myself, with only one motorcycle that passed me. My company were the grape vines, the hazelnut trees and an occasional winged flurry as small birds took flight when I walked by.

Reaching the top, the church does not look impressive from the outside. Built in 1755, the Maria Virgine Assunta is a red clay brick church with a couple figures in stone on the front and a tower at the back.  The door was open, so I went inside. I was the only one there. I had this whole silent, empty space to myself. It was magic. And then I looked up.

This church is by no means the Sistine Chapel. And I know that there will be amazing examples of painted frescos and ceilings in Genova and Rome and everywhere in between. But to see this much detail devoted to a little church that serves a community of only 9.5 square km.....it was very inspiring.

I found a couple nice restaurants surrounding the church. One is from the Le Soste collection of restaurants called La Ciau del Tornavento , which is a Michelin Star awarded Asian-Italian fusion restaurant. It was impressive to find that calibre of eatery in a small town high up in the hills. Craving something more regional and rustic, I wandered into Trattoria Risorgimento. They were just opening for service. It is a family run restaurant; the father, Ilario is the host with a dry sense of humour and a wonderful selection of wines, and his daughter leads the kitchen with other daughters filling in service staff roles. I had a fantastic meal; starting with tarajin tagliati (a regional pasta created especially with white truffles / tartuffa) with butter and white truffles. One bite of the pasta and my sole focus became this dish in front of me. Delicate pasta, butter and white truffle. Outstanding. Usually in Vancouver when you order shaved Alba truffle on your meal, it is by the gram and usually around $25.00 to $32.00 per gram added to the price of your entree. Looking at the photo to the left, for 20€ for pasta including truffle, you can see this chef was quite generous with the truffle shaving. Next I had braised pork cheek with polenta, followed by a sort of raisin and jam cake made from local grapes. I also found a bottle of 2005 Sori Montaribaldi Barbaresco which, you know...at 28.00 I just couldn't pass up. Total for three course meal with wine was 75.00

Ilario was kind enough to drive me back down the hill to Cascina Barac, and I took the remainder of my bottle of wine, a glass from my room and sat out on the veranda swing and enjoyed the silence of the rest of the evening (and my bottle of wine)

Looking forward to what tomorrow will bring.

A Year of Pretty - October 07, 2014

In keeping with the warm fall colour theme, I found this photo of this beautiful red hat. I love hats. I have a number of them. And this one I really like. It's also a stunning photo. Of which I have no original source. Except our friends at Pinterest.

Cascina Barac - Part One

Today is Day One at Cascina Barac. Well technically, day two because I arrived last night at about 8 pm.

First off, I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it was to check into my room last night. I had been travelling all day. I left Paris at 10:40am and took the train from Gare de Lyon to Turin (Torino - 5 hours), then waited until 7:30 (because it was Sunday and the trains run every two hours on Sundays; silly me) to take the train from Bra to Alba. Also, compound this with my not-so-great-stay in Paris (no hot water, no towels, mosquitos and a bed up a rickety ladder into a loft). All I wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep.

Cascina Barac has been so welcoming from the beginning. The hostess has been wonderful. I speak less Italian than she does English, but we laugh and muddle through and somehow it's all okay. Once I had checked in, I had a hot shower like nobody's business, made myself a pot of tea, sat and unwound from the day of travelling,climbed into bed and slept until the morning.

You have to also understand that I had not had a hot cup of tea in six days. Six whole days. This is most likely a record for me. It is amazing that when you finally get to have that hot shower and hot cup of tea, how your very soul rejoices. It doesn't matter what happens after that point. You are restored and ready to take on whatever comes next.

Speaking of next, the next morning I woke and went down for breakfast. Again, not something I had been able to linger over for a few days. While grabbing a pain au chocolat on the way to the Metro had it's charm, enjoying a long luxurious breakfast was indeed a treat. Cascina Barac puts out an outstanding assortment of cheeses, meats, breads, jams, yogurts and cereals each morning, and the ladies are quick to replenish anything that is getting low, or to bring you anything you wish; such as hot water for tea or an espresso.

After a hearty breakfast, I took my camera and decided to wander into the vineyard. There, I met up with Albino (pronounced AL-BEE-NO), who greeted me with a warm "Hello! How are YOU??". He is extremely charming and we had a wonderful stroll and chat about Nebbiolo grapes, the season, the harvest and the differences between wine production in Canada
versus Italy (of which there are many).

Leaving Albino, I wandered down a trail a bit by myself, then returned to the Cascina for a nap. I found my electric outlet converter that worked in Paris did not fit here in Italy. No fear. My hostess once again was very accommodating and had just the thing for me by way of an outlet adapter.

As it had been a busy 24 hours since arriving, I decided to take the afternoon to write, sketch, and catch up with people back home. It will be an early night tonight, because I want to be sure to get a full day in of hiking in the local hills tomorrow.

So for now I will say "buonasera" and "buona salute".

A Year of Pretty - October 06, 2014

Fall; it's definitely Fall. I am posting this blog in early October from my room in a villa in the north of Italy, just outside Alba. The mornings are cool and foggy, the afternoons crisp and bright. The view is spectacular, the people are warm and inviting.

Warm and inviting is a good way to describe these pearls from Chanel. The colours remind me of autumn leaves; each different and unique.

Enjoy these fall colours, along with diamonds, amethysts and citrines; and I hope your day is crisp and bright wherever you may be.

A Year of Pretty - October 05, 2014

Fall Roses - the last burst of energy put forth by the garden before gearing down for the cold winter months.

Each year, there are usually a hand full of roses that open up in late September or early October; a result of the crisp sunny days in Vancouver in mid September. Each year, without fail....it is the same thing: first week of September is rain, second and third week is nice, last week of September and into October is cloudy with showers.

So that two week period mid September the garden gives one last hurrah!

It seems the same is true here in Italy. The rose bushes around the villa Cascina Barac where I am staying are still in bloom. And while they are not many, they give hint to what is most likely a glorious display during the summer. The patio is surrounded by the bushes, so I can imagine what it must be like dining al frecso by candle light on a warm summer's night in the middle of a vineyard and the perfume of roses.

Fall roses are like a little memory of the warm days gone too soon and a promise of new blooms next year.

Postcards from Paris

Today is a travel day for me. I'm taking the train from Paris to Turin, Italy and from there on to Alba. But I thought I would post a few "postcards" from my visit here to Paris. These photos are all my original content, so I hope you enjoy them.







Paris - Day Five

Today was my last full day in Paris for this trip. And to be honest....I'm a little glad to be moving on.


I started with breakfast on the steps of the Charles Garnier Opera House. Paris has some beautiful buildings, but this is my favourite. It's such a social meeting place as well. More on that later. Back to breakfast. There is a little patisserie en route to the metro station from where I am staying. Every morning there is the most heavenly aroma emulating from the place. They also have yogurt with fresh fruit, and I travel with a spoon in my hand bag. Yes, that's right. I bring my very own spoon. If I'm going to be eating decadent European pastries and custards, I'm going to be doing it with a proper spoon; not a cheap plastic throw-away thing. Call it my good deed for Mother Earth. Anyway, I sat in the sun on the steps, enjoying my fresh pain au chocolate and my wonderful yogurt and watching the morning traffic and people on bicycles and scooters zipping in and out of traffic and was very glad I had no specific place to be.

I headed over to the Jardin des Tuileries to go to the Musée de l'Orangerie. The main attraction in this museum are the Claude Monet Water Lilies murals. These are so beautiful and so grandiose. There are two large rooms, and the murals are displayed four per room. The individual panels measure about eight feet high by ten feet across, and these individual panels are joined either in threes or fours to form the larger murals and displayed on curved walls so that you have a complete surround of these magnificent colours and reflections.

Claude Monet's Les Nympheas - not my photo, photo source - Wikipedia
The museum also houses a grand collection of impressionist and post-impressionist masters including works by Paul Cézanne, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, Pierre Auguste-Renoir, Henry Rousseau, Alfred Sisley and Chaum Soutine.

No photography is allowed, but some people either didn't see the multitude of signs or perhaps thought the signs were meant for everyone else except for them. Either way, people were taking pictures.

Here is my thing about taking pictures in museums. If you are visiting a museum and all you do is walk around and take quick snapshots of the most famous works, then you are not really seeing the museum, let alone the art. Stay home. Google online and download pictures from there. They will be better quality and you will save not only your entrance fee into the museum, but your airfare and hotel costs as well.

I can't tell you how many times I've seen people SNEAKING pictures on their iPhones, pretending to be checking their Facebook status (come on, really? Monet's masterpiece is in front of you and you need to check and see what Betty had for breakfast?). It's distracting. I'm there to enjoy the art and understand the expression from the artist. I like to look at the work from across the room, from a couple feet away, then up close so I can see the brush strokes. Then back to across the room. I look at the work straight-on, then slightly off to the side to see if the perspective changes. Essentially, it takes me a good five minutes to completely appreciate a piece if I am really enjoying it. One does not truly enjoy Monet's Les Nymphéas at drive-by-mock-speed, or on a five inch iPhone screen on the plane ride home.

That being said, I have taken a number of pictures of artworks I want to research more when I am home. But only in museums where photos are permitted. And only once I have thoroughly enjoyed the piece in person, both up close and from afar.

And people can be blatantly rude about their right to take pictures in a NO PHOTOGRAPHY zone.

After spending a good three hours in the Musée de l'Orangerie, I headed over to the Musée d'Orsay. This museum is housed in the old Gare d'Orsay (train station), and as such has a wonderful glass ceiling to let in plenty of natural light. The center of the museum hosts all kinds of marble sculptures, while the side rooms are dark and house the painted works. Again, there is no photography allowed.

Renoir's Bal du moulin de la Galette, photo source - Wikipedia
So I'm admiring Renoir's Bal du Moulin de la Galette and all its intricacies when a woman came up and pretty much elbowed her way in front of me to take a picture with her iPad (her iPad!, not even a discreet phone!), and then elbow her way out. As she's turning to leave I quietly said, "You know we aren't allowed to take any pictures, right?" To which she replies,"Who are you, the photo police? Mind your own business!" I guess she has a point, I should mind my own business. But still, pretty ballsy.

And I think people believe that their taking pictures isn't hurting anyone. What they probably don't understand is that in the long run, it does. The paintings are displayed in low, filtered light since exposure to light breaks down the colour pigment in the paint. If everyone were to constantly be pointing their cameras and iPhones at the paintings, over time even those brief exposures will cause the paintings and tapestries to deteriorate. Yes, it will take time, but it is possible that we may not have these great works in the future based on how they are treated today. This is one of the reasons the Mona Lisa is behind thick, anti-glare, light filtering glass. Too many cameras shoved in her face.

Okay, enough of that rant.

After close to six hours in museums, it was time to refuel. Now when travelling, it is hard to always stick to a healthy diet. Often, you need to eat the local delicacies, and today that meant a crepe. A warm, hot-off-the-grill-Nutella-and-banana-crepe. And oh my! This was amazingly good. And huge. And filling. But definitely worth it.

Now I needed to walk off some of that crepe. I ended up walking through Paris side streets with a more-or-less general idea which way I was heading but with no real destination in mind. Which, in the end after about two hours, got me a little turned around. Okay, okay...lost. Along the way though I found a wonderful cathedral that I plan to visit next time in Paris, Église Saint-Augustin de Paris. Now that it was getting dark, it was time to start heading back toward the city center. A quick enquiry and I was heading in the right direction.

Ever have that feeling when you have been walking and walking and all the buildings start to look alike, so then all the streets start to look alike...and it's starting to rain and you're getting cold and tired and just want to sit? That was me today by 8pm. Six hours of museums, rude photo paparazzi, and three hours of solid walking meant the day was starting to wear me down.

Then I caught this amazing smell. Warm, savoury smell. A little restaurant with a man in his forties behind a bar. He came to the door to greet me and brought me in to a table. I ordered shrimp and avocado salad to start, then duck confit for my main course. And of course wine. A nice Bordeaux. Dessert was crème brûlée. Definitely one of the best meals I've had in Paris. I couldn't finish my wine so they let me take it with me with a plastic cup. We looked at my map, and in broken English and my passable French, we were able to determine which metro station I could take. I was on my way again.

I'm supposed to be heading home, right? WRONG! While walking, I suddenly found myself at the Moulin Rouge. Well, why not go in and enjoy a show? The night was young. Tomorrow I could sleep on the train, right? And while I did enjoy the show, I will say that the one at Crazy Horse was better. This one was too....touristy maybe? That is all.

Okay, one last look at the Eiffel Tower all lit up and sparkly and it's time to head home.....

No wait! There was a flash mob dance group on the steps of the Charles Garnier Opera House. My day has come full circle and I am back exactly where I started it with breakfast. Except now I am drinking wine out of a plastic cup and watching 40 people dance to "Blame it on the Boogie" by Jackson 5.


It's been an amazing time in Paris (despite the awful apartment), but tomorrow I will leave and take the train to Italy. So for now I will say, "À bientôt Paris! À la prochaine!"