First stop: lovely little Alba, which was gearing up for the annual truffle festival. (Thankfully, we missed the insane crowds by two days, and so had the streets--and the truffle viewing--to ourselves.) It's been a wet year here in central Europe, which I think means that they actually had a good harvest this year. Good for them: I know last year wasn't so truffle-friendly.
Would you like the white? (Always under glass, of course. I have no idea what's up with the little dog and the feather, but I remember seeing it before. Indubitably it's some sort of talisman for the seller.) These things can run up to 4000 Euros per kilo, or about $2470 per pound. (Yeah. it's insane.)
Or perhaps some of the black? (Which, apparently, they're not as concerned about you stealing. Probably because black are waaaaaaaaay cheaper, but that works out nicely for me, 'cause I think black truffles are tastier. Not that I search any of them out, though. Overrated.)*
Lovely little Alba. Here, their main square, from in front of the cathedral.
Which looks like this. I stole this photo from the September trip, as I neglected to take a photo of it this time around.
I actually got to go in this time, for the first time ever. It's quite pretty inside, with this neat carved-stone altar...
...which is in front of a 16th-century wooden choir.
It also has this lovely blue vaulting, the likes of which I've never seen anywhere else.
But the neatest thing about the cathedral is all of its exposed archaeology! They've got grates in the floor over some very interesting things, like this 6th-century baptistery. (They also have pieces of the 15th-16th-century interior columns revealed, as well as steps leading to the ancient church on the site and some marked graves. It's totally unique, in my experience, and really cool.)
Next, Mike had lined up a tasting for us at Paolo Manzone, which I think is my new favorite Piemonte winery. They have some really nice wines, and the people there are just fantastic. (Don't worry, though, Elio Altare: you're at the top of the list, too.)
This being early October, it was harvest season, so Signore Manzone himself was running around like a crazy person, but that meant that we got to watch the grape selection process in action. Neat.
Mmmmm, wine grapes...
The man in action. He was trimming off the undesirable grapes at an incredible rate of speed as everything zoomed past on this conveyor belt.
Took a brief tour...they're very proud of their bottling and labeling machines, which aren't that common among the more under-the-radar wineries.
In the barrel room with our amazing guide, Elisa. (What a lovely, interesting, knowledgeable, and gracious person.)
Ahh, the tasting room. You might remember its environs from such posts as this one.
And this time, we got salami and TWO kinds of cheese with our tasting! Does life get any better?**
Mom and Dad, soaking up the atmosphere. (And by "atmosphere," I mean wine, cheese, salami, and Elisa's poetic descriptions of art and Piemonte culture.)***
We swung by a couple of castles and had coffee in the courtyard at Grinzane Cavour, as one does in the Piedmont, and then it was time for dinner. Which, naturally, was at Gemma's. I know for a fact that that's why Mike insisted we take my parents to the Piedmont, and since it's become sort of a place of pilgrimage for us, if we're in the vicinity, we go. And we overeat. Mike says that's his favorite restaurant in the world, and while I'm not quite sure I'm ready to commit to that level of enthusiasm (the world is a big place, people! with lots of great restaurants!), I will say that it is always a transcendent experience to be and to eat there. No matter how many times we've been, and no matter how many more times we'll go. (Hopefully plenty.)
Plus, now I have actual photographic proof that my mother has tried raw beef of her own free will. No cajoling necessary! I'm so proud! (No one in this photo looks terribly happy about the beef, but I chalk that up to a poorly-timed photo. I think they actually liked the stuff. As for me, I ate probably a third of that plate.)
After breakfast at the lovely Corte di Langa, it was on to our beloved Torino. It's only when I bring people there that I realize how raggedy it can appear around the edges; there's graffiti and some trash and it's maybe not the cleanest, but the center is just so elegant and full of good food and neat little artisanal shops and markets and tons of history and culture and it's so, so comfortable for us. I think we both love going there.
Plus, was fun to see a couple of Ferraris and an Aston Martin parked in Piazza San Carlo for no apparent reason.
We talked my parents into going to the Egyptian museum, which I think is a remarkable collection. I read somewhere that it's the largest outside of Egypt, which is nice for Torino, but maybe not so nice for Egypt. At any rate, the museum came into being in 1824 when the French consul to Egypt--a Piemontese by the name of Bernardino Drovetti--brought home his artifact collection. Seventy years later, the museum's director, Ernesto Schiaparelli, went to Egypt to expand the collection, and conducted archaeological digs in most of the places you've heard of. He brought home vast numbers of artifacts, including mummies and some truly spectacular sarcophagi, and that's how Torino ended up with one of the world's premier Egyptian museums. Go figure.
The eyes painted on a sarcophagi were intended to help the deceased to see better all the things he/she had taken with him/her into the afterlife.
Piece of one of the many Books of the Dead at the museum. (It was the crocodiles that caught my attention here.) This one dates to around 330 BC.
Anubis! For whatever reason, his image is my favorite amongst the more common things you see in ancient Egyptian art, and so in this museum, I'm constantly on the lookout for that jackal-y shape.
See? (On a box for ushabti, figurines representing the servants that would accompany the dead into the afterlife and attend him/her there.)
Yup. (Viscera box from 712-332 BC.)
This one's neat: he's an alabaster canopic jar from sometime between 1070 and 712 BC.
Ahem. Moving on. THIS was amazing. This is a fayum portrait, painted on a piece of wood that was laid over the face of the deceased in his coffin. Unlike the stylized masks you see on Pharaohs, for example, these were actually painted to look like the person who'd died. These came into popularity during Egypt's Roman period, sometime between 30 BC and 395 AD. What I find extraordinary is that this isn't someone famous, or painted by someone famous--it's just this man, whomever he was, staring back at us from 2000 years ago. Just incredible, and really moving, for me.
My first Egyptian mummy. Not technically on display, but in the conservation lab, lying on a table next to a woman in a labcoat who was making notes on the computer. Not exactly the most glorious ending, to be sure, and certainly not the one expected, but People From The Future come from far and wide to see you, whoever you are. That's gotta be at least a little satisfying.
Ok, just one more Anubis, and then I'll stop, I promise. This time he's on the lintel of a tomb's false door (2500-2300 BC). (I have so very many more Anubis photos. You don't even know.)****
One of Schiaparelli's greatest finds was the tomb of Merit and Kha, from the Middle Kingdom, between 1428 and 1351 BC. It was an entire ginormous tomb complex stuffed with furniture, food, various entertainments, clothing, makeup, pottery, jewelry, and heaps of other everyday things intended to be used by the dead in the afterlife...all of which is now in the museum. Above, the middle sarcophagus of Kha, an esteemed royal architect under at least four different pharaohs.
Innermost sarcophagus of Merit, Kha's wife. (I use the terms "middle" and "innermost" because these two particular nobles each had three concentric sarcophagi, with the outermost being a large wooden box, and with each inner one successively more elaborate than the last.)
Frankly, I found this tremendously creepy and a bit gross: Merit's wig, braided and crimped together out of human hair. Ick. (They have its storage box on display, as well.)
My favorite, and by far the most dramatic, part of the museum: the Statuary. Two rooms full of monumental granite and diorite statues of various gods and sphinxes and pharaohs, as well as a few granite sarcophagi and some papyrus columns. It is stunning and awesome and a great way to finish off a trip to that fantastic museum.
Post-museum, we had a nice dinner at La Badessa. Because I'm trying to be a bit less obsessive and weird about recording every morsel I eat while on travel, I can only tell you that I started with noodles in rabbit and lentil sauce, and then I think I had the cod and mashed potatoes. I know for certain, however, that my Mom had the gargantuan "peasant's" tasting menu (what! it's the food of the poor!), and that it was delicious and an amazing value for the money, really. (She had sausage-stuffed Savoy cabbage, the heartiest-ever legume and grain soup [super yum], a meat plate with some veggies on the side, and a ricotta pudding with grape sauce.)
Day two: when in Torino, one must visit the Shroud, of course. You can't take photos in the little Shroud chapel itself (and you can't even see the real Shroud--it's hidden away in a big box), but you can inside the cathedral...and I managed to capture their mad organ player in action.
He wasn't really mad. He was just really small and really getting into it.
Next up, the royal palace, built in the early 17th century (with several ensuing renovations, of course). This place is insanely over-the-top and answers the question, "Can one have too much gilding in one's palace?" The answer is an unequivocal yes. Yes, one absolutely can.
Ceremonial entrance stairway. Good for a genuine "wow." Renovated in 1862 to celebrate the continuance of the Savoy dynasty with the ascension of Vittorio Emanuele II to the throne of the newly-unified country.
The staircase leads to the rather impressive and cavernous Hall of the Swiss Guards, the main reception room since the 17th century.
Carlo Alberto's throne room, 1831 to 1849, with its coffered ceiling from the 1660s.
In the fabulous armory, a Milanese helmet depicting the labors of Hercules, made around 1550 (!).
A bejeweled Ottoman sword from the 16th or 17th century.
The Daniel Gallery, with ceiling frescoes from 1684.
My favorite room, most probably because it's the kind of place I'd host fabulous costume balls, were I a princess in a fairy tale. Or 19th-century Italian royalty. It's so sparkly and pretty. Its current appearance dates to 1835.
Back out on the streets, we snuck in a quick lunch: Mom and Mike opted for pizza, whereas Dad and I had waffle sandwiches (savory, of course) from the lovely little take-away Gofreria Piemonteisa. It wasn't until our bellies were full, however, that we made this discovery just down the street:
KONOPIZZA! Yes, friends, that is pizza in a cone. I'm sure it's terrible, but it's the kind of weird junk food that's right up my alley. Why, oh why, can I not have unlimited stomach space? Must. Eat. This. Someday.
In the afternoon, we headed to the Torino Archaeological Museum, which is conveniently included in the price of admission to the palace. (Well done, Torino. Very well done.) Here, part of the Roman amphitheater that's under the palace itself.
The archaeological museum is another stellar one; the history of Torino is long and interesting, and they've got the artifacts to prove it. This is a 7th-century tombstone with no fewer than three separate inscriptions on it.
Bronze statue head (the rest is lost) from 25 BC-35 AD.
Ninth-century marble pulpit fragment. So beautiful.
Gold jewelry from a 2nd-century Lombard woman's grave.
First- through third-century glassware. Obviously, those wee labels came a bit later. (How does this stuff survive?? That's what gets me. It's glass, for crying out loud! I break sturdier stuff than this in my own kitchen all the time!)
Giant silver decorative furniture band from the 2nd- or 3rd-century treasure of Marengo.
After the museum, it was actually sunny, and so we decided to try our luck with going up the elevator to the top of the Mole Antonelliana, but the line was ridiculous and there's no way we would have gotten up there before sunset. Sadly. At least we tried, I suppose, but it was still pretty disappointing. (When, in Torino, has there ever been a line to anything? Never, in my experience. So sad.)
Instead, then, we walked down to the river and saw some pretty views.
We also saw four interesting little birdies, three of which are in the photo above. (The fourth, a cormorant, was further away and was not terribly cooperative with my birdie photo shoot.)
Then, we rode one of Torino's antique streetcars back to our hotel, whence we headed out to dinner at con Calma, as we do when we're in the neighborhood. One thing I love about that place: it's seasonal, so the menu's always changing: One thing I don't like about that place: it's seasonal, so when the menu changes, you don't get to have whatever awesome thing it was that you had the last time you were there. (Bah, humbug.) I somehow ordered two dishes featuring pumpkin--one of grilled onions stuffed with pumpkin and amaretti, and then a risotto of pumpkin and castelmagno cheese (yaaaaaaay, fall! I heart you, pumpkin!). The real star of the show, however, was Dad's fritto misto--which is a common menu item all over Italy, and just means "mixed fried stuff." Dad took a liking to the concept, because it's different everywhere you go, and the one at con Calma was really an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach.
No, seriously. There were meats and sausages and vegetables and fruits and a couple of wedges of cornmeal puddings--both chocolate and vanilla--and all battered and fried.
Ahhh, Torino, you always treat us right. Our final day was spent driving northwards past no fewer than ten castles (I counted!), then through the thickest clouds and fog ever over San Bernardino pass, which was maybe one of the more stressful drives of my lifetime. Thankfully, Mike was driving, but I think it stresses me out even more to be a passenger, as everything's out of my control and I don't like it one bit. However, he did a fine, fine job; I didn't get carsick even once on all those twisty roads (shocking!!); and obviously, we all lived to tell the tale. When we got back to Zürich, my parents had a couple of days of R&R and laundry, and then said their goodbyes and headed back to the US.
But not, however, without first experiencing what I think is one of Zürich's finest annual events: Oktoberfest! I think it might be the happiest I've ever seen Swiss people, in their lederhosen and dirndls, wearing goofy hats and dancing on benches and singing along to a range of music from 1980s German pop hits to classic American rock. It is fantastic.
Dad thought so, too.
And with that, folks, we've come to the end of our epic Italian (and a teensy bit Swiss) adventure with Mom and Dad. We had a brilliant time, and we hope they did too.
What we're watching: oh my gosh, Brooklyn Nine-Nine. See it, people: it's hilarious. I heart Andy Samberg. Million Dollar Arm, which--I had no idea--was based on a true story. It's actually pretty sweet, although Don Draper is reprehensible through most of it. (And I've discovered that I really like Lake Bell. She seems like she'd be super cool to hang out with.) Speaking of Lake Bell: I can't remember whether I've mentioned it, but you should really watch the movie In a World. It's about the highly competitive world of (mostly fictitious) voiceover actors and it is hysterical and sweet and not for watching with the little ones. I think it's climbed into my Top Five. Captain America: Winter Soldier, which was super intense and better than I expected (although finding out who the Winter Soldier was = laaaaaaaame.) Hello, Ladies, the movie to finish off the single-season HBO show on which they absolutely and hugely dropped the ball. (Stephen Merchant: you are hilarious!!) It ended just as it should have, and was chock-full of the awkwardness we adore in that show. Modern Family, sincerely brilliant as always. Ty Burrell is a genius. New Girl, which continues to increase in its goofiness and ability to make me cackle. They have absolutely hit their comedic stride.
What I'm reading: Sleeps with Dogs, by my lovely friend Lindsey Grant! It's funny and sad and sweet and has a good ending, and also maybe confirms why I'd be unable to work with animals as a career, despite how much I love them. Honestly, I do not know how she physically dealt with some of the (sometimes quite literal!) crap that she did as a "pet nanny" in San Francisco. Read it and support my delightful friend...you won't regret it! Yes Please, the amazing autobiography-memoir-thing by Amy Poehler, one of the funniest women in history. I've been looking forward to this one for months, and it was well worth the wait. Citizens of London, by Lynne Olson, about the Americans influential in wartime Britain during WWII. It's a bit lengthy, and can get draggy in places, but for the most part, it's a really interesting read (and surprisingly informative--so much about FDR and Churchill I didn't know!) and quite a nice tribute to some unsung heroes. A Long, Long Time Ago and Essentially True, a fiction novel with double narratives set in WWII Poland and contemporary Krakow. So far, it is beautiful and compelling and sad and really, really good, despite my inability to understand all of the Polish words sprinkled here and there.
Heyo, but that was a long post! I gotta warn ya, though, friends, that the next series probably won't be much shorter, and here's why: it's going to be about my super-secret-surprise birthday trip last week to Egypt. Get ready.
*Ok, so this is going to sound pretentious, and probably is, but I will say: if you're into truffles, go for the real thing, or maybe truffle salt, but don't bother with the oil. Especially at restaurants, because usually it's just a chemical scent and flavor, and no actual truffles were involved in the making of it. I had some once and it was really not pleasant.
**I submit that it cannot.
***Speaking of art and Piemonte culture, those paintings behind them are done by local artists and have been used on the labels of their Luvi blend, which Paolo creates yearly according to the specific characteristics of the grapes from that particular harvest. In other words, no two years will taste the same, and it's entirely a matter of what Signore Manzone prefers that year. Neat.
****I've learned lots lately about Egyptian tombs. According to ancient Egyptian mythology, after death, the soul of the deceased flew around like a lost bird, trying to find its person again. False doors were constructed to serve as the entrance to the tomb for that soul, for when it finally found and was able to return to the body for rebirth.
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