We went for dinner at La Tana Delli' Orso, a Slow Food restaurant located rather close to the convent. The drive up through town was a treat in itself: I learned the small garages hacked into the rocks were actually ancient Etruscan caves, converted into carports for vactationers. Stuff that old in the USA - a country without much old stuff - would be behind glass with an interpretative sign and perhaps a docent. Here, it's where you park your Fiat for the night. Well.
The tiny and homey osteria was positioned at the very top of the hill, with a commanding view of Bolsena's volcanic lake. We took copious quantities of touristy photos as soon as we arrived - the sunset was going down in various shades of pink and purple.
We entered the restaurant and met Bruno, the owner, who proceeded to serve us some extra-virgin olive oil. Apparantly the olive oil is produced in house in the tradition of Italian osterias, which originally provided only wine for pilgrims in route to their holy locale of choice. As the years went by, osterias began to produce more and more of their own goods - including this olive oil. Bruno's olive oil was made from two types of olive: the Cantino and Frantoio. As Extra Virgin by definition means less then 10% acidity, their olive oil, at 0.3% percent, was especially high in quality - it certainly tasted nice to me. The small production olives are picked at the peak of ripeness at the end of November - and 100 kilos of olives are required for a mere 30 kilos of oil! By the end of February, the containers are changed to get rid of natural deposits.
Although a lot of olives go into a little bit of high quality olive oil, there are other uses for the detritus. What is left of the crushed olives is turned into oil for lamps, what the Romans called "lamparte".
The first course was gnocchi with tomatoes and porcini mushrooms - a very local dish, as all ingredients but the porcinis were of local origin and produced in house. This was a fine rustic dish, with a soulful flavor from the fresh tomatoes and pungent porcinis. The gnocchis were also perfect: pillow like and very light.
Next was pork with rosemary, garlic, and olive oil, accompanied by sauteed chicory from the garden. Another classic combination, similar to the classic Tuscan pork dish of arista - I was especially taken with the bitter but excellent flavor of the chicory, a vegetable that is definitely uncommon in the USA. We're usually only familar with chicory in coffee, an adaptation produced during the World War's when coffee was in short supply. We should saute it more often!
Dessert was panna cotta with chestnut honey: another rustic and simple dish with an excellent flavor. I liked it it: it tasted rather like a molded, tart yogurt. A far cry from the mega fancy panna cotta's common in San Francisco's luxurious Italian restaurants, and a nice way to get at the origins of a classic dish.
After dinner, Bruno told us about the restaurant and the general concept of Slow Food, which his restaurant is certified under. He noted that locally functioned osterias like his own promoted local economies by employing locals and using predominantly local products - this saves local trade and traditions. He uses as little refrigerated food as possible - the ancient Etruscans didn't have that! - and tries to stick with what he can get in season.
Bruno said joining Slow Food is no easy task, and is in fact more difficult then obtaining a Michelin star! Slow Food decides who gets to join in a process somewhat akin to that of the Spanish Inquisition - restaurants must be inspected every single year to retain their accreditation. He noted that his choice of a Slow Food mode of cooking means a conscious preference for quality food over quantity food - although great quantities are cheaper, greater quality is preferable and more amenable to local traditions and local ways.
Bruno then told us about raw milk cheeses, which the area around Bolsena is rather famous for. Raw cheeses are made with milk heated no higher then 38 degrees celsius, keeping the bacteria colonies alive within the dairy. Pasteurized cheeses, meanwhile, are made with milk heated to 75 degrees celsius - which kills the bacteria and produces shelf stability but also (in the opinion of many gourmets) kills the flavor as well. As it is much easier to sell pasteurized cheese due to its shelf stability, raw milk cheeses can only be sold profitably in areas with a large local market for such products.
Bruno noted that "slow food" is not just a lifestyle but a large discourse on economics and politics - I refer you to Carlo Petrini's Slow Food manifesto if you want the whole spiel. Slow Food also centers around the negative aspects of globalization, making it a political and economical choice to stay local and stay "slow."
He then told us about the most common types of fruit and vegetables found around the lake - many with colorful local names. There are Beans of the Straight Plowing Trace, Bi g Box Tomatoes, and Beans from Purgatory - which describe, respectively, peas, tomatoes, and garbanzos. The local names indicate a preference for tiny crops instead of huge monocultural plantations, as has become the general world norm.
In the past 10 or 15 years, Italy has seen a resurgence of small harvests and small output crops. It is important to carry on these traditions or people will drop them for other, more lucrative, professions. As he noted, "Gnocchi are easy to make if you know how to make them!" But how will you learn how if no one is around to teach you?
Finally, we tried Italy's notorious apertifs - those herbal "digestifs" that in my opinion prompt illness more then health. (I was scared for life at a young age by Fernet Branca). This stuff - Liquore D' Erbe del Monte Amiata if you want to be exact - was mostly drinkable, which is really all I ask. I have no idea what ancient Italians were thinking.
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