Kitty Fix on Ricotta Day

Kitty Fix on Ricotta Day

Wednesday is “ricotta day”, the day they make fresh ricotta at the Cascina Femegro.

Even though I had just been there yesterday, a sunny afternoon and the thought of hours-fresh ricotta on some nice bread easily convinced me to hop on my bike. I headed south along the canal, and turned west into the farmland.

There are old, stone troughs spanning the drainage ditches that wind through the farmland.

The one-lane road is cyclists’ heaven. Add sunshine overhead on a spring day, and it’s perfection.

I bought 4 tubs of cheese: 1 for me, and 3 to give away to friends. I had no idea at the time that “friends” would include 9 cats in a lazy-but-playful huddle at another farm along the way home. They very cautiously came over to me as I crouched at the road side, did the “kitty squeak” and rubbed my fingers together trying to entice them. I’ve seen them there before, either on or under the roof of the small outbuilding at this historic building. The most affectionate was the tabby mamma cat that wallowed in the attention.

“OK”, I thought, “The ricotta was cheap. These kitties would enjoy it so much.” Yes. I unwrapped a domed mound of ricotta and split it up into several locations, allowing the timid cats to have a bite to eat away from the more dominant cats. After eating ’til their bellies were full, each found a spot in the sun and did their contented cat preening.

It was nice to get my “kitty fix” since I’m catless here in Milano (and since my kitty, Laddie, has died back in Seattle during my absence).

I wonder what the farmer will think when he finds the empty ricotta tub, and some remnants of cheese…

Springtime in Italy

The windows are open to the day’s remaining warmth while trout and green beans grill and steam for dinner.

I had awakened this morning to bright sun direct into my bedroom, and the day held promise. After some tasks around the house and a light lunch, I went for a bike ride along the canal, past magnolias, cherry trees and forsythia, and then west into the farm land. I rode to the dairy and bought grana padano and fresh scamorza cheeses. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is fresh ricotta day. That’s worth riding back to the farm for! They will have just finished making it by afternoon and it’s so light and fresh it should be eaten by the spoonful out of its tub.

The rice paddies are green with the first new growth, and I dreamily followed the curled road back through them, returning to the canalside path. The temperature and sunny, blue sky were so delicious, and I felt warm and easy.

Winter Goes Grudgingly

Winter Goes Grudgingly

Winter has been long and gray and holding tight, unwilling to give way. But it’s late March now, and winter goes grudgingly, allowing spring to tip toe in.

It’s rained much of this last week, and I haven’t been out on two wheels for too long. So in spite of forecast rain and the questionable sky, I suited up and headed canalside.

It was a thrill to see signs of spring at last. Cherry blossoms. Forsythia. Wildflowers in the grass. I heard the birds singing in the trees and saw a highly-colored cock pheasant in the grass along the feeder creek. The willow catkins have burst and hang long. Trees and shrubs are leafing out. And I caught a whiff of something fragrant.

At long last. We have all certainly earned our springtime here.

!@*#!! It’s Snowing!

It’s March. It’s 3:00 in the afternoon and it’s snowing. Crap. I’m so ready for the Springtime that Seattle is having right now! Enough of this COLD!

My Seattle neighbors called the other day to tell me how much they’re enjoying looking out to the flowers blooming in my yard. Flowers? What flowers? It’s still winter here (except that the farmers and gardeners along the canal have been out preparing the soil for planting the last few, sunny days when I’ve been out for a ride.)

Basta!

I think I’ll got out for a walk…

Farm Fresh on a Sunny Day

Farm Fresh on a Sunny Day

Saturday. Clear blue skies. About 50 degrees. Yes!

I headed down the canal on my bike, but decided on a change of scenery and followed the path I learned about from Angelo, my surprise tour guide in mid-January. The one lane road wound though small towns and rice fields. I found my way back to the same old “cascina” (large, formerly-fortified farm) that Angelo had shown me. The farm store had been closed that time before, and though they were closed again, a young woman came out of the house and welcomed me into the shop.

“What do you recommend?”, I asked her. She pointed out all of their own farm-produced foods and I selected fresh ricotta, fresh mozzarella, brown rice and salami. What could be better?!

I found a way to secure the little bundle on my bike and continued my ride. There was a woman on a pink scooter. A lawn hosting 4 peacocks. An old tile roof warming 3 black cats. 1 Woman on a bike. Swelling buds on the trees. And a stop to say “hello” to Padre Pio at his shrine in Zibido San Giacomo. What a day!

Gauging the position of the sun and the remaining daylight and warmth, I went as far as Noviglio then turned around to head north back to home.

The very first thing upon coming in the door was to open the ricotta and mozzarella and have a taste. OH…MY! That fresh ricotta was better than most ice cream. I simply got myself a spoon and started eating it. Wow. Delicious. And the salami was good, too.

I’m really liking this. Go for a bike ride and, not far out of the city, pick up home grown rice and fresh ricotta cheese. (This is so unlike my previous life experience.)

The Rolling “Ciao”

Sun in my eyes yesterday and the day before! Temperatures in the 40s demanded that I mount two wheels and head off along the canal for a ride. Divine. I haven’t been a cyclist for about 30 years so it surprises me how much I’ve taken to this biking. During and after my ride is when I feel my absolute best. I’m hooked on that sensation: I get hot and sweaty; I breathe hard; I feel both energized and relaxed at the same time. It’s when I feel most prayerful, grateful for having a healthy body ABLE to make such rides!

As often as I’m riding – (I guess I’m pretty gung-ho if I’m still riding in temperatures in the 30s!) – it should not be surprising that the faces on the bike trail are now familiar to me, and I’ve become a part of that community. How unexpected! Now, after 7 months on the canal path, the other cyclists and I exchange our acknowledgements: a nod, a hand raised from the handlebar grip, a “ciao” or “salve” (more formal) as we whiz past each other. Sometimes I’ll tuck in behind another rider and use his speed as incentive to work harder. Other times, a rider and I will sprint together and have an out-of-breath conversation as we ride, then wish each other well when we arrive at our separate routes.

Along the way I see the very hard core bike jocks on their streamlined bikes, wearing their lycra race gear. These guys are serious! Then there are the “intermediate” cyclists, still out just for the ride but not quite such jocks. I encounter the men with bikes-as-transportation getting from point A to point B, and the fishermen carrying nets and rods.

MAYBE I can count one other woman in 200 or 300 riders! Where are the women riders? Are women at home? At work? Is it considered unfeminine for a woman to be sweating and racing, pushing hard in that way? What statement is made by the absence of women on the bike trail? The city’s main outdoor gear store has a large bike section but offers next to nothing for the female cyclist. A male cyclist friend explains, “there aren’t any”.

That must be why they crane their necks as I ride by. Here in Italy, I’m an anomaly in the wheeled community, but it’s nice to be acknowledged with a rolling “ciao”.

History Buff on Wheels

History Buff on Wheels

“I was born in 1945 during the war years and I grew up with family members all around me talking about politics and The War. They didn’t always agree. I think that being surrounded by these discussions as a child is why I love history so much today.”

Today Angelo became my second personal tour guide in two weeks, giving me yet another “3-hour-tour”. I just rode my bike all around the countryside southwest of Milano with my “History Buff on Wheels”.

Angelo-Fontanile

Angelo pointed out the “Fontanile di Vernate” one of the places where the spring forms a pond.

Oh yes. So lovely decked out in my winter riding gear…

Oh yes. So lovely decked out in my winter riding gear…

When the sun came in the window this morning for the first time in ages, it woke me up and promised me a 45 degree day and my treasured, usual bike ride. I got the day, but not my usual ride. After pedaling along the Naviglio Pavese for about 20 minutes, I caught up with another rider and remarked how nice it was to be out. We talked for a minute or two as we rode, then I zipped ahead feeling full of energy and wanting to go faster. But he caught up with me. It was Angelo. We rode on, talking all the way. Feeling spontaneous and trusting, I agreed to his suggestion that we ride on further than I normally would have gone.

(I usually keep my rides to an hour and a half or two hours, and haven’t done much exploration alone on the more remote bike paths.)

Sure! Encounter some man on the bike trail and follow him all over the countryside! But of course!

We ended up riding on the narrow roads that wind between rice fields and other farm land. The whole time Angelo was relaying the history of Milan, Italy, Europe, WWII, Mussolini and Hitler… Berlusconi, Bush and Obama. He talked about the hardships during the wartime and how people were sustained by the rice of southwest Milano. (He doesn’t speak a word of English, by the way.)

Angelo-FatherBirthplace

Angelo’s father’s birthplace is in the distance, where the church steeple is.

He pointed out where both his mother and father were born, and where they are both buried (Zibido San Giacomo). Angelo took me to old, fortified “cascine” – country farmsteads with castle-like main buildings and outbuildings – most refurbished and still in use as modern-day farms carrying on. He pointed out places where Leonardo da Vinci had been, worked, designed and created. Leonardo’s hand and mind are all over this local land.

The entrance to Cascina Femegro.

The entrance to Cascina Femegro.

Within the inner courtyard of Cascina Femegro is this beautiful arched doorway. Straight across from it, 100 yards, are cattle in their stalls. A little girl was riding on her tricycle.

Within the inner courtyard of Cascina Femegro is this beautiful arched doorway. Straight across from it, 100 yards, are cattle in their stalls. A little girl was riding on her tricycle.

I saw a shrine in Zibido to Padre Pio (who had the “stigmata” markings matching Christ’s); the sarcophagus of San Giacomo, c. II-IX cent. – St. James – in the central courtyard of the town by the same name; and an old cascina, “Ca’ Grande”, Palazzina Pusteria Busca Pozzi.

Shrine in Zibido to Padre Pio

Shrine in Zibido to Padre Pio

The church at Zibido San Giacomo.

The church at Zibido San Giacomo.

Sarcophagus of San Giacomo

Sarcophagus of San Giacomo.

This is the memorial to those from town of Zibido San Giacomo that have died in the wars.

This is the memorial to those from the town of Zibido San Giacomo that have died in the wars.

An old cascina, "Ca' Grande", Palazzina Pusteria Busca Pozzi.

An old cascina, “Ca’ Grande”, Palazzina Pusteria Busca Pozzi.

(While riding through Zibido, Angelo’s daughter passed us in her car, going home. He rode to the house a half block away and told her about “this American woman”.)

Angelo explained the “marchite” – marshes – the rich, fertile land perennially wet from “i fontanili”, the underground aquifers and springs of the area. During the winter the ground’s surface may freeze but the ground itself is kept warm by the rising water. The farmed land has been formed into wide, humped rows, allowing the water to flow between the rows; the row peaks begin to grow grass earlier in the Spring than other locales. The milk from cows raised on this grass is said to be superlative.

Le Marchita - The Marsh Farmlands

Le Marchite – The Marsh Farmlands

An old "cascino" back alongside the Naviglio Pavese, at the turnoff to Zibido. Leonardo spent time here. I think Angelo said it was "San Lorenzo". In the inner courtyard, there are bas-relief busts jutting from the walls of various people.

An old “cascino” back alongside the Naviglio Pavese, at the turnoff to Zibido; I think Angelo said it was “San Lorenzo”. Leonardo spent time here. In the inner courtyard, there are bas-relief busts of various people jutting from the walls.

We figured this one must be Leonardo.

We figured this one must be Leonardo.

Of course there's a cat in the courtyard!

Of course there’s a cat in the courtyard!

Our route today was: South along the Naviglio Pavese to Binasco. West to Vernate and Calvignasco. North up through Rosate, back east to Noviglio, Mairano and Zibido San Giacomo. Angelo rode almost all the way back to Milano with me, to within 10 minutes of my apartment. He wanted to show me the maritime locks along the canal that Leonardo had designed.

Our route - in yellow - through the farmland.

Our route – in yellow – through the farmland. My usual route is down the canal to Binasco and straight back. I’m going to feel this unusually long ride tomorrow!

He suggested I make a ride sometime to the Morimondo Abbey founded in 1136, and to the town of Vigevano to see a show of Leonardo’s work.

(I’m on stun. I could not craft these experiences if I tried!)

Fish on a Sunny Day

Fish on a Sunny Day

Wow. An absolutely gorgeous day in Milano. Is this what Fall is like in Italy?! Sunny after some 2:00 a.m., drenching downpours recently. Fresh air, yet nicely warm. No humidity to be bothered with. It was a day that screamed for a bike ride along the canal.

Fish are always present in the Naviglio Pavese Canal, and I’ve been told they’re fussy about biting. I see them when glancing over as I ride along. Sometime in the last week or so they’ve lowered the water level down to just a couple of feet. Perhaps this has affected the fish, and perhaps it’s just their biology (spawning time?) but now they are clustered in clouds! AND I saw three of four that were brilliant gold or gold and black. Koi let loose? Whatever the reason, I had to stop and simply watch them.

NaviglioFish2

I still don’t know what kind of fish they are. One day I stopped to chat with an elder fisherman and I should have had pen and paper with me to write down what he told me. “Trota” was one fish that was easy to remember. Trout! But I see a few others with different markings and body shapes, which keep up my curiosity.

NaviglioFish1