Family holidays: Gastronomic Adventures in Tuscany

by Rhonda Carrier

Sapori e Saperi

Like many middle-class, Guardian-reading parents, I’m stricken with guilt that my family lives mainly on food bought from supermarkets and shops and not usually from farmers’ markets or local producers or – better still – grown in our own backyard. So when I read of Sapori e Saperi’s ‘gastronomic adventures’ in northern Tuscany, I was enchanted by the idea of combining our family holiday with the opportunity for our boys to learn more about where food really comes from, and even to learn to cook some of it for themselves.

Sapori e Saperi is the brainchild of ‘food guru’ Heather Jarman, a former archaeologist specialising in the history of agriculture and then later a historic food consultant. Having moved to Tuscany, a bastion of the Slow Food movement, she hit upon the idea of introducing fellow foodies to the traditional flavours of the Garfagnana, a historical region that is now part of the Province of Lucca and is famed for its chestnut forests, porcini mushrooms, wild boar, and pecorino cheese.

The Garfagnana itself is stunning, as we discovered, bleary-eyed after our night-train from Paris. Driving up from Florence about an hour and a half to the southeast, we ascended into a region of forest-clad hills threaded by tiny spaghetti-like roads and backed by mountains that are often swathed in cloud. It’s a land, according to a local saying, ‘of wolves and outlaws’, and I have read that the Italians even use the word Garfagnana as shorthand for ‘the back of beyond’ (accompanied by a wave of the hand over their shoulder).

At the top of many of those perilous roads perch minuscule medieval villages with narrow cobbled streets that are accessible only on foot. One such village is Casabasciana, where Heather lives, and where she sometimes puts up guests on the top floor of her vast village house complete with its own chapel. Other guests choose to stay in accommodation with a swimming pool, either at a B&B or an agriturismo (buildings on a working farm converted to apartments or houses).

We loved the village, despite the tortuous 3.5km drive to reach it from the bottom of the valley, which seemed to grow longer with each ascent. Although the streets are quite steep and the steps and cobbles potentially treacherous for the unsure of foot, children can run around this medieval labyrinth without fear of traffic or fumes, or play freely in the convivial piazza where something different was going on every night of our stay, whether it was ballroom dancing or a ping-pong tournament. (Heather assures me that the village isn’t so lively outside August – some nights, revelry went on into the small hours and we had to close our windows, in spite of the intense heat, to be able to sleep.)

We arrived late on a Thursday morning, and after checking out our accommodation and unwrapping our gifts (a mezzaluna and pizza-cutter for the boys, a potato ricer for Dad, rose-scented toiletries for Mum, and aprons for each of us), watched as our oldest boys – Ethan (6) and Ripley (5) – were whisked off to Heather’s allotment to pick tomatoes for lunch. (Their little brother, Zac, not yet 2, was not technically part of the holiday – Heather’s family tours are designed for children aged 6 and up).

Back from the allotment, Ethan and Ripley were soon tearing up stale bread with abandon, more than happy to help Heather to prepare the panzanella (Tuscan bread salad with tomatoes) that we were to enjoy in her shaded courtyard herb garden along with fresh local bread, prosciutto and salami. Before we ate, Heather took the boys off to one of the three village fountains to fill a couple of bottles with fresh springwater to accompany our meal.

Heather’s only ‘rule’ for guests is that they taste everything once, and my husband and I were amazed to see the boys tucking, at her suggestion, into the fresh tomatoes, which they always wrinkle their noses up at home. At the table they sampled things – with only a little encouragement – that they wouldn’t normally try at home and declared that they liked them. One meal into our holiday and things were looking good…

Tummies full of simple but delicious Italian food, we retired upstairs to nap after our two-day journey to Italy, rising in time to follow Heather in her car to a medieval festival taking place in another hilltop village, Lucchio. (You don’t need to hire a car – Heather will drive you around – but you’re able to do more in your free time if you do have your own wheels). This was essentially an eating tour of the medieval village with its cobbled alleys zigzagging up to a dramatic fortress – as we climbed, we stopped at stalls to sample the likes of necci (chestnut-flour pancakes with or without ricotta), foccacia, salty local sausage, bruschetta with oil and garlic or tomato, and local cakes and crêpes. It was a strange way of having dinner, with locals in medieval costume processing past us, but an interesting one. Even Zac made a new culinary discovery, gobbling up the farro salad (farro – emmer wheat – is a Neolithic grain that is probably now uniquely grown in this region; his father wasn’t a fan of the salad but became quite fond of the local farro beer…).

We would probably have opted for a slow start the following morning, but our next activity was a cooking lesson with Stefano Brandani, who runs a restaurant, La Taverna dei Birbanti ( ‘The Bad Boys’ Tavern’), even further up the wiggly road from Casabasciana, in a village called Crasciana. The lesson needed to begin early since this excellent restaurant was fully booked for lunch. Ethan was a little disappointed that the personable Stefano didn’t turn out to be quite as actively naughty as he’d cast him in his imagination, but he was impressed by his pierced eyebrows, his tattoos and his grizzled, mischievous charm.

The boys had previously had an Italian cooking lesson at Cucina Caldesi in London’s Marylebone, but this was something else. As I wandered yet more picturesque cobbled village streets with Zac, stalking somnolent cats and stopping to admire and sniff big terracotta pots overflowing with flowers or fragrant herbs, Ethan and Ripley, together with their dad, were taught how to make such delights as pasta fritta (an antipasto of fried pizza dough), pappa al pomodoro (bread and tomato soup), involtini (thin rolled slices) of beef scattered with rosemary and sage and wrapped around a sliver of prosciutto, and a ricotta cheesecake with wild woodland berries.

Although the lesson lasted between two and three hours (with a couple of breaks when the junior masterchefs could play with the restaurant dog in the sunshine), the boys’ concentration throughout was exemplary, and it was a proud moment when we all sat down at one of the restaurant tables — amidst other diners – and tasted their wares. Everything was wonderful, from the pizza dough served with prosciutto crudo, lardo (extraordinarily sinful but delicious pig-fat cured with wild mountain herbs) and creamy stracchino cheese to the delectable cheesecake, and we resolved that we would definitely try most of the recipes again at home, especially the melt-in-the-mouth involtini and the cheesecake (Heather provides all recipes in a folder for you to take away with you; she also translated during the lesson since Stefano speaks only Italian).

The afternoon was allocated as free time, but being so full of food and drink (including one of Stefano’s excellent aperitifs of Aperol, bitter lemon, sodawater and prosecco) and still tired from our journey, we returned home for a nap. Besides, our meal had been long and it was already 3pm. Had we been motivated or finished lunch earlier, Heather has a whole raft of suggestions for local activities.

It's worth noting here that the holidays are planned out in advance through discussions and draft programs going backwards and forwards between Heather and parents, until the latter are happy that the agenda suits their kids. It does, however, remain relatively flexible, and if the kids are too tired for certain activities or outings, many can be skipped.  

More cooking was on the agenda that night when Heather gave Ethan and Ripley the opportunity to learn to use their mezzaluna, a curved instrument use for fine chopping. First she took us down to the outskirts of the village in search of wild nepitella (lesser calamint), then the boys helped gather sage and rosemary in her own garden. Tearing them from their stalks in the kitchen, they set to chopping them (together with some garlic) with the half-moon-shaped instrument. As in Stefano’s restaurant kitchen, they showed incredible levels of concentration and willingness to learn. Heather also got them involved in pushing a new batch of pomarola (an intensely flavoured Tuscan tomato sauce) through a mouli-legumes. We feasted that night on herby, garlicky chicken, rosemary sautéed potatoes and salad.

The following day we couldn't visit any food producers because it was Ferragosto (15th Aug), the most important Bank Holiday after Christmas and Easter, when everyone takes the day off to feast with family and friends. Heather was able to suggest a few local festivals that were taking place, so after a lie-in and a lazier start to the morning, we drove down to Lucca, the provincial capital, for a day of riverside activities for kids. Nothing much was happening when we arrived, so we wandered down the river, had some lunch in a little café, visited the horses at the riding centre, and then returned to a stall selling local crafts to buy Ethan and Ripley two wooden swords they had their eye on. Heather headed home and we spent a carefree couple of hours paddling in the river, skimming stones across the twinkling surface of the water and watching local kids canoeing.

Afterwards we wandered into Lucca, most famous as the only town in Italy that is still entirely surrounded by its walls, which date from the Renaissance. Had we had more time, we would have liked to cycle these walls – a shop just within the Porta Santa Maria hires out bikes for all ages, including trailers, baby seats, and adult-child tandems. As it was, we were content to find a friendly café by the Basilica di San Frediano with its extraordinary golden 13th-century mosaic, and look on as Ethan and Ripley performed a swashbuckling sword fight in front of it. (Had we gone inside, we discovered afterwards, we could have seen the mummified body of Saint Zita within a glass shrine). Then we went to ogle the Piazza Anfiteatro, filled with tourists but interesting (and extremely pretty) by virtue of the fact that its medieval houses were built within the remains of a Roman amphitheatre, hence its oval form. We could have chosen to stay in Lucca and tried out one of its restaurants, but instead returned to Heather's for local sausages, rosemary potatoes and zucchini with mint.

The next day was free time, since Heather had to help the women of the village produce the food for that evening's feast. Anxious to see a bit more of Tuscany, we headed off to oooh and aaah at the Leaning Tower of Pisa (far more impressive than photos can do justice to) and then drove up the coast to the elegant seaside resort of Viareggio, where we paid a moderate fee for a spot on one of the private beaches and splashed around in the heavenly blood-warm Mediterreanean for a couple of hours. The boys slept as we drove back to Casabasciana in time to take our places at one of the communal tables set up in the piazza and enjoy the village’s big festa, a multi-course, waist-expanding extravaganza of food and wine accompanied by music from a local duet.

Our last two days began with a short visit to a local trout farm and smokery, where we learnt how responsible farming can help to prevent wild specimens from being fished to extinction. Though the kids didn’t find this fantastically fascinating, it was put into context by lunch at an old hermitage perched up on the cliffs overlooking the farm, where we were served a delicious set menu (free to kids) of cold-smoked trout on crostini, spaghetti with a trout and tomato sauce, and roast trout with potatoes. This was followed by a trip to a treetop adventure park – a predictable hit with the kids, and one that ensured that they all managed a nap on the way to the next restaurant, a former working men’s club in another (surprise, surprise) tiny hilltop village. So basic that it didn’t even have written menus, the Buca di Baldabo in Vico Pancellorum nonetheless served the most amazing silky pasta dishes and tasty meats, including rabbit and wild boar.

Our last day was equally full. In the morning we went to watch a local cheesemaker make pecorino cheese and then, from the whey, ricotta, in her tiny one-room dairy. The boys were suffering from the heat a little, but they did find this quite interesting and I’m sure that it made them think, albeit subconsciously, about the provenance of the kinds of food they eat every day and take for granted, and the labour that goes into them. They were disappointed that the cheesemaker’s goats weren’t available for petting, as per our itinerary, but this was made up for after lunch.

But first it was time to discover Il Vecchio Mulino, an extraordinary wine-cellar cum village store cum restaurant in the town of Castelnuovo, set up by affable local Slow Food champion Andrea Bertucci. Andrea and his staff served us an incredible tasting menu of local produce, including farro and wild-boar salami, rounded off with tasting portions of all of Andrea’s wonderful tarts as well as some of the cheesemaker’s sublime ricotta that we had brought along, mixed with a local wild-strawberry jam that was so delicious we had to buy a couple of  jars to bring home.
 
Then it was off to watch beekeeper Francesca show us how she extracts honey from her hives and filters it (and also how, in season, she makes oil from local olives). When we’d been taken through the process (to the boys’ regret, not seeing any actual bees – although there were plenty in Francesca’s garden), she set out some honey on a table and let us taste acacia and chestnut varieties on bread and cheese, while her rare-breed chickens – including a rooster who looked as if he was wearing a blond wig – darted around our feet.

Francesca’s property is also an agriturismo, Al Benefizio, with a triple room and a couple of self-catering units, plus a play area for kids, donkeys to pet, and a stunning pool with to-die-for views of the hilltop town of Barga, and we spent a couple of happy hours splashing around in the sunlight as our time with Heather drew to a close. Stopping on the way home for a pizza and a gelato at Bagni di Lucca was probably an indulgence – none of us were truly hungry – but Heather’s restaurant and gelateria recommendations were, as usual, spot on.

What you are paying for, when you come on a Sapori e Saperi holiday, is Heather’s expertise and local contacts and knowledge (and Italian language skills, if you don’t speak it yourself). This is the kind of holiday you would never have independently, although obviously some elements of it, such as the adventure park, are activities that you could quite conceivably do by yourselves.

Best, for us, were Heather’s unfailingly wonderful choices in terms of restaurants, most of which we would never had discovered for ourselves – and the fact that she was there to guide us through menus that we could never have decoded with our non-existent Italian. On the other hand, I did feel that with children the age mine are, there should perhaps be a maximum of one restaurant meal in any given day, since many younger kids do find sitting at the table for longer periods tiring and – dare I say it – even boring, especially in the heat. Of course, it was great not to have to shop, cook and clear up – to take a break from domestic drudgery – but then a self-catering option would have given us the opportunity to buy and try more of the fare sold by some of the producers we visited. Heather makes a point of encouraging her guests to buy local produce during their stay, but this is not always feasible if one is travelling – especially by sweaty overnight train back via Paris!

Similarly, I did raise with Heather the issue of whether the same number of activities wouldn’t have been more comfortably spaced over two weeks, giving us more time to simply chill out and get into the Slow frame of mind that is part of the point of such a holiday. She explained that in the context of her highly personalized tours, this probably wouldn’t be workable, so my husband and I concluded that if we did do a similar holiday — and we all agreed on our way home that it was our best ever as a family – we’d factor in some serious chilling time at either end of the tour, with at least two or three days of pure beach or pool following on from the week. It was all very pretty intensive, to the point where we missed out on several activities that were available and that we would have liked to have done – biking on the walls at Lucca (see above); playing with the piglets in the woods; horse-riding; discovering the town of Barga with its Scottish links; going to a local market; or even just spending more time hanging out in the village piazza, drinking beer in front of the bar as the kids played…

For more information and prices, see our Sapori e Saperi page, which includes an exclusive 5% off.

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