by Michelle Morgando
(My first Guest Blogger, Michelle Morgando, is a lawyer, judge, and professionally-trained Chef, who lives in Henderson, Nevada. She has just returned from a one-week travel and food writing trip to Italy and has agreed to share her fabulous story with us.)
A recipe should be simple, right? No guesswork, just follow the instructions. Of course you can improvise but when you do, be prepared for a result you may not expect. I dreamed of a trip to Italy, Tuscany in particular, for many years. The views, food, wine and culture fascinate me. I planned a trip to Tuscany for a travel writing course and two months later, my travel “recipe” that seemed so exciting at the time, felt meaningless. I lost my Mother, after several years of health issues, at a time and in a manner that was unexpected. Do I go, do I stay? If I go, will I live the experience as I once hoped? I decide to go. thewritersworkshop.net
My mother and I had a particulary strong bond where food was involved. We may disagree on politics or my choice in a spouse, but food connected us without conflict (except when I did not do things her way). She encouraged me to explore my fascination with food and my decision to attend culinary school at the age of 42. After she died, I wondered if I would enjoy cooking again. Perhaps my trip to Italy might hold some answers.
I arrive in Montalcino, Italy on a Sunday and have some time before I meet the instructor and fellow students. I do something I have always wanted to do. I take a walk through town to look, listen and imagine what it would be like to live in such a place. I feel unsettled. Is it jet lag or the sudden realization that I can’t call my mother and tell her all the sights and sounds of Montalcino? I keep telling myself to snap out of this mood. I wish there was someone who would reassure me that I was going to be fine.
The next several days are filled with writing classes on the beautiful patio of the hotel, lunches, dinners, wine tastings and exploring. The food is both exceptional and simple. Baked Pecorino cheese drizzled with local honey, earthy and pungent tagliarini with porcini mushrooms and black truffles, and the enormous and truly satisfying Bistecca alla Fiorentina, a regional t-bone steak finished with coarse salt. The people of Montalcino are gracious and interesting. I visited a wine shop during my first day and attempted to speak to the owner in my limited Italian. He spoke very little English but said “speak slowly.” After 15 minutes and and education about Brunello, I left with a great bottle of wine and a few new Italian phrases. My fellow students are diverse, talented and adventurous. Some are professional writers, many are not, but we were all in Tuscany to learn and enjoy the the experience. I still wonder, when will I feel that pure, unmitigated joy that I am in a place I have always wanted to be?
On our third day, we take a day trip to Pienza. One of our stops is the Palazzo Picollomini, commissioned by Pope Pius II as a residence for his papal court. It is breathtaking but I am drawn to the Cathedral Cattedrale dell’Assunta next to the papal residence. I think about my first trip to Europe with my mother and remember how we visited so many churches in London. I enter the church with Jenny, a fellow student, who lost her mother some months before me. We wander the cathedral, admiring its beauty and Jenny stops to light two devotional candles, one for her mother, and one for herself, her husband and son to help them with their grief. I was struck by the reverence with which she placed the candles and without any conscious thought, found myself reaching for a candle. Jenny had left a space between her two candles for reasons we can’t explain. I light my candle and pray for my mother and for my family as I place it between Jenny’s candles. Another student, Heather, follows me and lights a candle for the son she lost. I then realize that this is the moment , this is the reason why I decided to take this trip. In this cathedral in Italy, where for centuries so many have grieved or joyfully worshiped, I realize that I am not alone in sadness. At that moment, I know that I will always love my mother and that she will always love me, but I would need to learn to experience happiness again.
Michelle, Jenny and Heather
As Jenny, Heather and I leave the church, we are crying but realize through the loss we share we have found each other. As we stood outside the church, I tried to memorize the way the sunlight reflected off the centuries-old stonework and the sound of the church bells as they rang at noon. The picture I have of the three of us on the cathedral steps will always remind me that grief and joy are universal emotions.
As I continue with my trip, I begin to appreciate all that Tuscany offers. Dinner with new friends, a truly exceptional glass of Brunello, eating gelato as I walk through Montalcino, a rainstorm in the middle of the night. One of our last events is a cooking class with a resident who travels the world, but seems to be happiest in Montalcino. I then realize that I am excited to cook for the sheer pleasure of cooking, and to be cooking in Tuscany.
We make our way one evening to the home of Teresa Galli, former resident of Rome and world traveler. She welcomes us into her home and kitchen and begins our cooking class. We are all assigned tasks for our dinner. I am given the job of making one of the doughs for our pasta. As I am forming the dough, I listen to Teresa and my classmates talk, laugh and yell at each other and I feel something light up in me. This is healing, joyful and at times, truly hilarious. Permanently stamped in my memory is the assembly line of my friends trying to feed strips of fresh pasta through the pasta machine as the handle of the machine keeps falling on the floor. This is what I want my life to be about, this feeling is what makes the difficult times bearable. We sit down to dinner and I sit with Teresa and listen to stories of, as she describes, her first six lives and what she plans to do with her seventh. Her description of her early years in Rome, her bicoastal existence between Rome and New York and her travels to all the amazing countries I have never visited feed my soul as much as the food that we made that evening. We walk back to the hotel in the rain with full stomachs and hearts and an evening full of memories.
As we were leaving Teresa’s, she kissed my cheeks, took both of my hands in hers and said “Cara, you must cook for yourself every day, this will make you happy.”
I have my recipe for happiness. I will cook for myself and the people I love, and I will go back to Italy. I will cook with the memory of my mother as the best part of the recipe.
Michelle’s Welcome Home to the USA Party (note the “Aspen” caps as party favors)
Well done Shell. You evoked 4 strong emotions in me 1)sadness 2)fear 3) great JOY and 4)desire (to travel). I think you accomplished many goals. Love you
Beautifully written and accompanied with gorgeous pics. I want to blow up those first two pics and live inside them. Michelle, I know your mother would appreciate the lessons you learned in Montalcino and she’d love knowing that you have peace and happiness that you can take with you wherever you go.
Great story, good work, it was fun being there with you while you were on your journey!
xojaneen
Beautiful, Michelle. A moving reminder that life is found in the small moments and that we are not alone if we are willing to share ourselves with others. You go, girl!
I love your capturing of both the tenderness and aching of the heart, as well as the ease and comfort of sublime Montalcino. It was so wonderful to meet you!
women learning and experiencing in their special ways….the heart of this Blog! Thanks Michelle and Mary for lifting me to another place…..
Ardyth, We learned a few tricks from you, my dear. And. Congratulations from the two of us on your Retirement after 40 years of professional journalism involvement where you’ve done a bit of your own heavy lifting. M&M
This was a great read. I love all the detail. You drew a perfect picture in my head. When you talked about the handle falling off I just picture you snorting (not that you snort 😉 ) with flour all over yourself. I’m sure this was a true healing point for you, and after reading this it truly fills my heart with joy. Thanks for writing this. You accomplished to keep my attention with reading, that’s rare haha. Keep up the good work, and don’t stop writing. This is only the beginning of something new and exciting for you. I love you.
Thank you all for your wonderful comments. They mean so much to me and thanks to Mary for allowing me the opportunity to post this.
What a beautifully descriptive story. Thank you for sharing. I could almost taste the truffles! It is great to hear that you were able to bring your mother to Montalcino with you in spirit, and at the same time, allow yourself to enjoy all of the sights, sounds, tastes and smells that Italy had to offer. I am so happy that you had such a fantastic experience and that you are sharing it with others.