When I grow up...

I might want to be a farmer.

Last night, we got back from a one night trip at Caponetti's Farm (http://caponetti.com/Lorenzo.htm) in Tuscania. We left Friday at 2:45, and arrived at the farm around 4:30. The drive was beautiful... in our big red bus, we passed by St. Peter's Basilica and ambled through the suburbs of Rome, until we finally broke into countryside. We drove along the coast, and as always, since I spent most of my life in a land locked state, it was exciting to see the ocean.

After a precarious drive down a gravel road, we were greeted by Lorenzo, the head farmer, his father, his mother, grandmother, and four extremely happy dogs. We had just enough sunlight to set our stuff down, and run towards the field, where we planted some onion, learned about the water system, and got to see some of the Etrusian tombs that litter the farm. Pepe, Berta, and Olsola, the dogs, followed us everywhere.

The "farm" is more than just a farm; Lorenzo's family bought Caponetti's Farm with the purpose of making the main building a bed and breakfast. The house had been abandoned for years, and the yard was being used as a helicopter landing pad for the Italian government. The house, a crumbling, orange building, sits on the middle of a 125 acre property. The Caponetti family knew they had to use the farm for something other for a bed and breakfast, and asked their younger son, an agricultural student, to plant things. But, after being overwhelmed, Lorenzo took over.

Lorenzo, a self dubbed "smart ass," began farming. He had been studying various subjects, including ecology, for years, but had no experience farming. When he discovered the olive trees on the property, he saw it as one way to make the farm profitable. He also began extensively studying olive oil, and has perfected his olive oil, which is the best of the best (apparently used at all the best restaurants in New York City). He believes in sustainable, "clean" agriculture. He spoke with us for only 15 minutes, but it was the most informative talk of my life. I want his olive oil, but it usually sells out immediately, seeing as he doesn't have many trees. (Actually olive trees are shrubs that have been cut and pruned over the years into a tree shape, which is easier to harvest.) He travels to the US a few times a year to teach seminars at various schools, and he also participates in WOOFing, and does internships with culinary students. Basically, he has created an enterprise that gives back. Maybe when I grow up I want to be Lorenzo...

After learning a little bit about the farm, we headed inside to eat dinner. Dinner in Italy is an ordeal. It is typical to have three courses, and two are absolutely necessary. There is bread before, and coffee after. At this dinner, our first course was a pasta with a tomato sauce that also had olives and capers. The second course consisted of (the best, most delicious, most amazingly cooked) chicken, white beans, and baked potatoes that had been sliced in half to fit butter and a bay leaf (bay leaves grow like crazy here.) Dessert, or dolci, was a brioche like cake with custard in the middle (we had thirds). And of course, extremely strong Italian espresso with sugar, but no cream.

Stuffed to the brim, we learned more about olive oil, and retired to our rooms. It was cold, but not too cold to stargaze... We took chairs from outside, wrapped ourselves in blankets, and sat under the stars. They were the brightest I've ever seen them. I want to go back.

The next morning, we ate a breakfast of coffee and a variety of pastries. Then we headed out to the fields to plant more onion and garlic. My job was to make holes, and people followed me to put garlic or onion in the hole. Then, after a snack of fresh focaccia bread, we went to go do some trail maintenance, but got distracted by some horses we found in the field. Apparently, the farm also raises Arabian race horses... they have sold some to the King of Morocco! They are huge, and very skittish, but eventually warmed up to us after we fed them leaves. They also liked the smell of onion on our hands. One of the horses was pregnant, and there were two foals.

The farm is situated on top of a hill, facing an old city, with an extremely old church. It makes it so that every direction you look, there is an amazing view. Planting garlic, we would look up and see rolling hills and blue sky. Lunch was a picnic, an omelet, a tomato bread salad (so good), a tuna and bean dish with red onions, fresh bread, sliced salami, grapes, and apples. It was all so fresh... Ricotta with jam for dessert.

It was refreshing to be out of Rome. It felt free, windblown hair and thick socks, the Italian countryside at my feet, and dirt on my hands. There is something to be said for simplicity, and Caponetti's Farm is just that. Maybe I want to be a farmer when I grow up. Or maybe I just want to feel free.

Today, Rome felt claustrophobic. We visited some catacombs this morning, and walked on sore legs by the Trevi fountain later. We ate more good food, and checked our computers. But I want to go back.

This week, we have our Italian final and lots of reading due. Now, my Saturday afternoon will be spent reading our book in a park near the Colosseum. Love from Rome.