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Italy Cooks

By Tom Blair

An upscale food-and-wine tour of Tuscany produces palatable dining and an immersion course in the best Italian vino.

BY TOM BLAIR

WHEN YOU’VE GROWN UP ON CANNED SPAGHETTIOS before finally graduating to Chef Boyardee dinners-in-a-box, the concept of gourmet Italian dining is likely to be rather foreign. The idea of actually preparing a gourmet Italian meal is more akin to science fiction. But that’s what I’m doing——and doing a fine job of it, thank you——in a private manse in the center of Florence on a spring-like winter day.

A day ago, our tightly knit team of writers sped north from Rome through the heart of Tuscany on the Eurostar bullet train——a 170-mile adventure that lasts about as long as an appetizer. Over the course of several days, we’ll be wining and dining and wining again at several of Italy’s best hotel restaurants, including the Grand Hotel and Westin Excelsior in Florence and the magnificent St. Regis Grand Hotel in the heart of Rome.

In theory, you can’t get too much of a good thing. But when you’re being hosted on a wine-and-food tour of Tuscany, the theory gets a severe test. How many are too many great wines? How much is too much gourmet food? We haven’t stopped dining, or wining, for days——except for travel time between meals. We’ve already sat for wine dinners at the Hotel Eden’s La Terrazza and the Florence In Canto. Yesterday, it was an all-afternoon lunch at Ruffino Wine Estates, hosted by Adolfo Folonari, the scion of the family that’s owned Ruffino for nearly 100 years.

Folonari, a model-handsome 40-something, his stunning young wife and two small children live at Montemasso, a 17th-century castle on one of Ruffino’s seven estates, where a loving, 12-year restoration was recently completed. Ruffino is best known for its Chianti (you’ve seen those straw-covered Ruffino bottles hanging from the ceilings of neighborhood Italian eateries here at home). But Ruffino also cultivates Sangiovese, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Syrah, Pinot Noir and Modus (a Supertuscan from Sangiovese).

During our visit, we sample six of the wines in a pre-meal tasting and are poured three more during our marathon luncheon. Not since the college SATs have I sat still in one place for so long. As we leave, I’m consumed by one thought: Omigod, dinner is only three hours away!

But today, it’s our turn to wine and dine ourselves.

THE ODYSSEY BEGINS with an introduction to the Mercato di San Lorenzo, a voluminous, two-story warehouse that looks like an American farmers’ market on steroids. Here’s where——with considerable help from our guides and two cooking teachers from Le Baccanti Tours, Fiamma and Jinny——we’ll gather the harvest for our midday meal: beef, fish, fresh vegetables and fruit. (If you should ever chance to shop here, be forewarned: That $17 T-bone steak you’re eyeing isn’t $17; it’s 17 Euros. Thanks to our declining dollar, that’s more like $25.)

Our kitchen comes courtesy of Guiliana and Fabrizio Bianchi. The kitchen is in the family’s Palazzo della Stufa in Florence, overlooking the church of San Lorenzo. The Bianchi family owns the Castello di Monsanto winery in Tuscany’s Chianti region. (Yes, of course this will be a wine lunch.) The Bianchis, brave souls, are sharing not only their kitchen but their dining room. And they will share the meal being prepared by the journalists.

Several of us do not wait for lunch to accept an invitation to take a few sips of Chardonnay while we prepare the meal. Fortunately, Fiamma and Jinny are watching our every move. The Bianchis’ palazzo is 13th century——500 years older than the city of San Diego. The kitchen and its appointments are 21st century. Our main course is peposo, a zesty, peppery beef stew that originated in Impruneta, a small town near Florence.

We start by preparing odori, a sauce I’m told is the basis for most stews: carrots, onions and celery. And here I receive one of the more valuable tips of the trip: To minimize crying when chopping an onion, the trick is to cut the bottom of the onion last. No problem, I’m thinking, I usually don’t cry until I eat my cooking.

While the sauce cooks down, we prepare the pasta, which eventually morphs into a pear-filled ravioli. It does not come from a box. It comes from the semola (durum wheat) flour we purchased from the marketplace, and it provides quite a workout. The mantra for getting the pasta just right is pretty basic: Push and fold; push and fold. If we manage to slip a sip of Chardonnay into the rhythm, so much the better.

Did I mention our hosts own a winery? When we finally sit down to lunch, we are ready for them, and the Bianchis treat us to another wine extravaganza, with vintages from their own cellars. As the meal progresses, the compliments for the dishes we’ve prepared are ever increasing. This could be due to the hosts’ good manners or the good wine we’ve been steadily imbibing. I prefer to believe it’s all sincerity. Tastes awfully good to me.

Eat your heart out, Chef Boyardee.

If You Go

There’s no such flight as San Diego to Rome. If you fly out of Lindbergh Field, you can expect two stops. Most major air carriers fly one-stop out of Los Angeles, including British Airways, which, for my money, offers the most comfort and best service. All of the hotels in Italy where we stayed are Starwood properties. For the Grand Hotel Florence and the St. Regis Grand Rome, call 800-325-3589; for the Westin Excelsior Florence, 888-625-5144. Or go to starwood.com/italy. Italian cooking classes, operated by Le Baccanti Tours, may be booked through the hotels, or visit lebaccanti.com.