Comfort Me

The first time I tasted bread with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and herbs I was visiting Restaurant Pellegrino with my Mom - the owners had my drawings framed and decorating the dining room and wanted me to see the result. (The owner's wife, Paulina, had modelled for me at University).

They treated us to a lovely lunch and I experienced the Italian tradition - took to it like a duck to water, btw... Travelling to Toscana last year, and having the local ingredients at my disposal was just a fantastic upgrade! I can still smell the moist, clean air and feel the beauty transforming my thoughts and dreams.

What is cool, is that we can get wonderful balsamic from Modena and great fresh breads here at home, but I have yet to find a oil that rivals what I tasted in Italia. I didn't buy anything fancy either - just the local Co-op brands and it topped anything I had ever sampled in Canada. Paired with some wonderful wine, well that's magnifico! Unpretentious, accessible luxury for the six senses.

So, it's a rainy holiday Monday and I am relaxing and remembering driving through Tuscany - the weather changing rapidly from sun to cloud to rain and back to sun again, as we drove through that magical countryside - like a fairy tale come to life. It's such a treat to have those memories to play back like favourite movie clips - comfort for the soul and inspiration to nudge it forward.

Red, White, Green

Last March I was travelling through Tuscany with my son and my best friend - it was Spring Break for my little guy, and we all had an amazing adventure. This year, I am sticking close to home, but Italy has been on my mind! I used to really hate March because, not only is the weather miserable and fickle (is spring coming or not???), but I also lost my Father (1999) and my niece (2004) in March, so there was always this association with loss, grief and emptiness. Having visited Toscana and experienced the warmth of the people, the surreal beauty of the landscape and unmatched flavours, textures and colours that only that region can provide, I am finding that my memories of that magical time have cancelled out the muddy, cold patch that was my March experience.

Breathing the cool air and face to the sunshine, I recall my bare feet on the terra cotta floors of our villa, making Cafe Vergnano in the little kitchen that opened to a private terrace. The succulent blood oranges, dreamy yogurt, incredible prosciutto and cheese, and just the scent of the air -- I can replay the experience with complete, vivid recall.

I feel fortunate to have experienced such beauty and goodness, and that my son also enjoyed and remembers fondly our time together in Italy. It is such a gift to have memories of sorrow replaced by ones of creativity, engagement of the six senses and rejuvenation of the spirit.

Until we can return, Toscana, I will recreate little pieces of you in my daily life: wrapped in my moss-green cashmere cape, walking in the sunshine and cool air, and looking for beauty in the ordinary things around me.