Category Archives: Italy

Al Cenacolo: A “Last Supper” in Chiavenna

Yesterday we had our family holiday big meal out at Al Cenacolo (“at the Last Supper”) in Chiavenna. Having gone that far from home, it was a big decision not to go to our beloved Lanterna Verde, but, because this place had been recommended to us by Dr. Maulé, we decided to take a chance – and were not disappointed.

Al Cenacolo is located in central Chiavenna, very easy to find. Just go through the gate shown above, and you’ll find it a few doors down on the left.

The menu is brief (there are probably seasonal changes) and totally without fish (smoked salmon appetizer doesn’t count!).

Four of us opted for the paté di fagiano (pheasant paté). We should have stuck to the restaurant critic’s rule – everyone get something different and share – because the paté was not that interesting.

It just didn’t have much flavor, and would have been better if served a little warmer and with toast, although the restaurant’s bread was excellent.

The house wine was a very good Grumello riserva (a local wine made from Nebbiolo grapes), made especially for Al Cenacolo by the Nino Negri winery, a bargain at 9 euros per half-liter, served in a very attractive carafe – I want one of these!

Ingvild and I opted to skip the first (pasta) course. Bruno and Enrico both had the tortelli d’anatra glassati (stuffed with duck breast), which were very good (I managed to get a bite of Enrico’s).

Graziella had Al Cenacolo’s version of pizzoccheri, in which the pasta was more like gnocchi, and very tastily drowned in butter and garlic. She couldn’t possibly finish it, so we all got to clean up the serving bowl.

For secondo, I had wanted the duck breast all’amarena (sour cherries), but they would not make it for fewer than two people – very disappointing as that was not specified on the menu! I hate when I make my mind up for a particular dish and then can’t have it.

So Ingvild and I both had carré di cervo (venison) served with an insufficient portion of salsa ai mirtilli neri (berry sauce). The meat itself was luscious, rich, and tender, though the presentation was unimaginative and the polenta squares boring. Roasted potatoes would have been a better accompaniment to this wonderful meat.

Enrico had a (small) leg of pork smothered in porcini, Bruno had kidney with mushrooms, and Graziella had lamb; they all said their dishes were good, but I didn’t taste them.

The dessert menu was not particularly exciting. We had two kinds of sorbet: plum drowned in Calvados, and mandarin with “two kinds of liquor” (which kinds wasn’t specified).

The total for the five of us, including one and a half liters of wine and lots of water, was about 260 euros. Altogether a worthwhile meal, even at that price, though not quite as spectacular as I would have liked.

Ristorante Al Cenacolo, via Pedretti 16, Chiavenna – closed Tuesday evening and all Wednesday – phone 0343 32123

photo gallery Chiavenna

Learn Italian in Song: Acqua Azzurra, Acqua Chiara

Blue Water, Clear Water

Battisti, 1969.

Ogni notte ritornar To return every night
per cercarla in qualche bar, to search for her in some bar
domandare: “Ciao, che fai?” to ask €œHi, what are you up to?€
e poi uscire insieme a lei. and then go out with her.
Ma da quando ci sei tu But since there’s you
tutto questo non c’é piu’. all of this is no more.

ritornello refrain
Acqua azzurra, acqua chiara Blue water, clear water
con le mani posso finalmente bere. I can finally drink with my hands
Nei tuoi occhi innocenti In your innocent eyes
posso ancora ritrovare I can find again
il profumo di un amore puro, the perfume of a pure love
puro come il tuo amor. pure as your love.

Ti telefono se vuoi I’ll call you if you want
non so ancora se c’é lui… I don’t know yet if he’s there
accidenti che faro’ Damn, what will I do?
quattro amici trovero’. I’ll find four friends
Ma da quando ci sei tu But since there’s you
tutto questo non c’é piu’. all of this is no more.
(ritornello) (refrain)

Sono le quattro e mezza ormai It’s half past four by now
non ho voglia di dormir I don’t want to sleep
a quest’ora, cosa vuoi, at this hour, what do you expect,
mi va bene pure lei. even she will do
Ma da quando ci sei tu But since there’s you
tutto questo non c’é piu’. all of this is no more.
(ritornello) (refrain)

If you want to sing along, here’s a karaoke version on YouTube.

Learn Italian in Song: Balla Linda

Another classic from Lucio Battisti.

Dance Linda

ritornello        refrain
Balla Linda balla come sai        Dance, Linda, dance as you know how
Balla Linda, non fermarti        Dance, Linda, don’t stop
Balla Linda, balla come sai        Dance, Linda, dance as you know how

Occhi azzurri belli come i suoi        Blue eyes like hers
Linda forse non li hai        Linda maybe you don’t have
Ridi sempre, non parli mai d’amore        You always laugh, you never speak of love
Pero’ non sai mentire mai.        But you never know how to lie
Mh Mh        Hmm hmm
Bella sempre, dolce come lei        Always beautiful, sweet as she
Linda forse tu non sei        Linda perhaps you aren’t
Tu non dici che resti insieme a me        You never say you’ll stay with me
Per non mi abbandoni mai        But you never abandon me
Tu non mi lasci mai        You never leave me
Ti cerco e tu, e tu ci sei        I look for you, and there you are
Ti cerco e tu mi dai quel che puoi        I look for you, and you give me what you can
Non fai come lei, no non fai come lei        You don’t do like her, no you don’t do like her
Tu non prendi tutto quello che vuoi.        You don’t take everything you can.

(repeat)

Learn Italian in Song: A Casa d’Irene

At Irene’s House

Nico Fidenco

I giorni grigi sono le lunghe strade silenziose            The gray days are the long, silent streets
Di un paese deserto e senza cielo            of a deserted country without a sky

(ritornello)            (refrain)
A casa d’Irene si canta si ride            At Irene’s house [people] sing and laugh
C’e gente che viene, c’e gente che va            There are people who come, people who go
A casa d’Irene bottiglie di vino            At Irene’s house bottles of wine
A casa d’Irene stasera si va            Tonight [people] go to Irene’s house

Giorni senza domani e il desiderio di te            Days with no tomorrow and the desire for you
Solo quei giorni che sembrano fatti di pietra            Only those days which seem made of stone
Niente altro che un muro            Nothing else but a wall
Sormontato da cocci di bottiglia            topped with shards of broken bottles

(ritornello)            (refrain)

E poi, ci sei tu a casa d’Irene            And then there’s you at Irene’s house
E quando mi vedi tu corri da me            and when you see me you run to me
Mi guardi negli occhi, mi prendi la mano            you look into my eyes, you take my hand
Ed in silenzio mi porti con te            and in silence you take me with you

(ritornello)            (refrain)

Giorni senza domani e il desiderio di te            Days with no tomorrow and the desire for you
Nei giorni grigi io so dove trovarti            In the grey days I know where to find you
I giorni grigi mi portano da te            the gray days take me to you
A casa d’Irene, a casa d’Irene            At Irene’s house, at Irene’s house

(ritornello)            (refrain)

Keeping Cool, Italian Style: Energy Efficiency and Home Safety, All in One

Although it’s hot here in the summer, Italy’s not big on air conditioning, preferring to rely on older methods for keeping cool.

Most Italian buildings are naturally insulated, being made of concrete, brick, or stone. The older they are, the thicker the walls, which of course adds to the insulation. Windows are protected by shutters, whose style varies with location and age of the building. These insulate against the weather, but also protect against thieves (housebreaking is far more common here than street mugging).

Our apartment in Milan had tapparelle: slatted, roll-down shutters operated by a pulley system with a cloth strap that you pulled, hand over hand, to raise or lower them. This was barely within the limits of my strength on our large bedroom window, even though the shutters were made of plastic – we were on the 7th floor, so security wasn’t much of an issue.

My in-laws’ apartment in Rome, being on the first floor, had to have strongtapparelle. The originals were elegant wood, but, when they began to break down with age, this proved very expensive to replace, so the new ones were steel painted a woodish sort of color. Those were even heavier than the wood, so we were thankful for the electric motor that raised and lowered the 3-meter-widetapparella in the living room – until the electricity went out…

^ Wooden tapparella on our first apartment in Lecco – operated by a hand crank (not visible in this picture), it took forever to open or close. Then the slats started breaking…

The problem with tapparelle as a safety feature is that, to be safe, you have to close them at night – clever Italian house thieves have been known to use sleeping gas on homeowners to ensure easy pickings inside the house. So the shutters in Rome had to be closed, no matter how hot the night. The most you could do was leave them slightly open so that a centimeter or two of air could pass underneath and through the slim cracks between the slats.

Back in Milan, surrounded by other 7th and 8th-floor apartments, we closed thetapparelle for privacy, except on a few summer nights when we were too hot to care if the neighbors saw us naked in the moonlight (it was too hot to wear clothes or have sheets over us on the bed, either). We found a partial solution in putting a new type of frame on the bedroom tapparella, which could be tilted out on a hinge even when the shutter was fully rolled down, so we could get air in under it, and look down into the street, but no one could look across or down into us.

Here in Lecco, most houses have persiane – hinged shutters with fixed, louvered slats pointing downward, so no one can see in, but you still get some light and air. We don’t feel the need to close these most of the time, even though we don’t have curtains: the position of our house is such that no one can look into our windows, unless they use binoculars. But the persiane are useful to keep the sun out while letting air in. On summer afternoons I close everything up on the sunny side of the house – shutters and windows – and the rooms stay relatively cool til the evening breezes come and it’s time to open it all up again.

Note: Yes, we also use fans.