Views from the edge of Tuscany

The mystery of olive tree pruning

2017-02-14T10:34:00.001+01:00

One of my three olive trees, seriously in need of a haircut

“Ora ho capito!” he said, meaning that he thought he’d finally got the hang of pruning our three medium-sized, relatively young olive trees, and he wielded his long-armed pruner dangerously, confidently lopping great lengths of olive wood and their silver-green leaves. I looked on dubiously, ducking the falling branches, and thought how unlikely we were to ever get an olive crop again.

Pruning olive trees is an art. It is not a task for the novice gardener. Here in Tuscany, I tried to follow a short course in olive pruning once, but was soon lost in a forest of Italian horticultural terminology and came away none the wiser. It really seems to be “a mystery buried deep in ancient folklore”, as the Mediterranean Gardener puts it. And yet we have young(ish) Italian friends who will confidently and competently tackle the task, leaving lovely trees looking shaved but still harmonious, with no lopsided branches to be seen.

I think it's probably one of those tasks you have to have grown up with, watching your elders as a child and then gradually absorbing their techniques to perfection, like cooking at your grandmother's side.

Unfortunately, in my youth there weren't many olive trees around in Shropshire to make this possible (and not so many even now, I suspect), but my olive trees have more of a decorative role than anything else and I do not depend on them for a harvest, so the occasional haphazard pruning upsets only my sense of harmony.

There is plenty of practical advice available out there for anyone in need. Here are just a few of the links I've found:
On the importance of olive tree pruning
How to prune an olive tree in 30 seconds (video)
Potatura olivo (video)

Deciphering Italy - Rimandato or Bocciato?

2013-09-21T09:49:00.003+02:00

Or what happens when you fail the Italian school year

RIMANDATO
For many Italian school students the summer will not have been quite the break from studies they would have preferred. The three months of summer vacation will have been marred by the prospect of, and more importantly preparation for, exams in up to three subjects to be taken in September (sometimes August), the results of which determine access to the next school year.

These are pupils, generally at high school level (Scuola superiore - ages 14-19), who during the previous academic year failed to reach an average pass mark of 6/10 in one or more subjects. In other words, they have an insufficienza (a fail) in up to three subjects which they are given a chance to make up (recuperare) by sitting these exams, known as esami di recupero. Schools sometimes offer short remedial courses at the end of the school year to help students to identify their specific problems in the subjects they have failed.

This system is rarely used in primary or middle schools, but is common at high school level.

Students who pass the September exams are promossi (‘promoted’) into the next school year. Those who fail to pass the exams in September will be deemed to have failed the year, in other words, be bocciato/a (see below)

Students who fail to meet the average pass mark in more than four subjects will not necessarily be given a chance to take the esami di recupero (depending on teachers’ discretion) and will be failed directly.

BOCCIATO

When a student has been bocciato, he or she has to repeat the whole school year again. This means dropping back into the class below, for all subjects, for the entire year, and continuing in this class for the rest of the time at that school, unless he or she fails again. It is not uncommon for students to fail more than one year of their high school education, although not usually the same one. As a result, students can end up finishing their high school education in their early 20s (instead of 19).

I wish I had an Olive Grove

2012-11-11T23:01:00.005+01:00

I really do. Two short sessions of picking those plump oval fruits on a hillside overlooking Livorno were sufficient to persuade me that I could get quite used to living the peaceful, rural life, taking care of trees and plants, picking the fruits and making olive oil. Well, I wouldn't be making the olive oil myself, of course. I would load all my olives into my car and set off for my local olive press, or frantoio, just as I did this week with my friend Jessica who really does have an olive grove all of her own (see previous article).

I'd never seen an olive press in operation before. I once had the misfortune to rent a room in Greece above an olive mill - the old-fashioned type with a huge grindstone that shook the floor as it turned, very early in the mornings. I never quite understood why they were pressing olives in April, though.

Here in Italy the olive harvest takes place between October and December. We took Jessica's 500+ kilos of olives to the De Laurentiis press near Luciana, just over the provincial border between Livorno and Pisa. We had an appointment for 6pm and were on time, but they were running late, inevitably: there is a good harvest this year and people had been turning up with much more than they had predicted. Several other customers were hanging around waiting patiently for their turn, while one man dressed in khaki sweat shirt and combat trousers surveyed a constant stream of green oil - his own - that was pouring out of the huge pressing machine and being decanted into stainless steel containers that look a bit like milk churns and hold 50 litres of the miraculous liquid. How satisfying that must be!

It takes approximately 10kg of olives to get a litre of oil. Most frantoi accept a minimum of 100kg (1 quintale) and charge around 15 euros for this amount. These small, family-run businesses operate for around three months a year (Oct-Dec) and are open from early in the morning to midnight during this peak time.
As we waited, there was chat about possible yield, optimum ripeness and the maximum time you should allow to lapse between picking and pressing - about 4 days. Olive farmers compared notes on the location of their trees, and on previous years' harvests.

Meanwhile, I watched with fascination as the machinery turned the olives into oil, first stripping them of any leaves, then washing and mashing the fruits and finally extracting the precious liquid. Although the machinery is modern, with no grindstones in sight, it is still noisy and the operators wore ear protection. The deliciously pungent perfume of olives filled the air, in anticipation of the spicy taste of the new oil. I couldn't wait to get home to try some, drizzled on Tuscan bread.

Jessica's land, and its 90 olive trees, is currently for sale. Sadly I can't afford it, but if you are interested and would like further information, please contact me.

The De Laurentiis Frantoio is at:
Via S. Regolo 54,
Loc. Luciana
Tel. +(39) 349 7512871, fax +(39) 050 650732
email: lorenzodelau@tiscalinet.it

Related article: Olive Oil is Good for You!
Previous Blog: Pass the Space Oil!

Castagneto Carducci on an October afternoon

2012-10-11T22:55:00.003+02:00

The Castle at Castagneto Carducci, home to the Della Gherardesca family

It was so quiet early on a Wednesday afternoon in October in CastagnetoCarducci. I crept around the narrow cobbled alleys feeling conspicuous with my camera whose clicks seemed loud enough to disturb the local residents' afternoon tranquillity. But it is difficult not to snap away at the photogenic village churches and views, castle walls, lush balcony displays and inviting shop and restaurant fronts. It might sound like a cliché, but with its medieval castle and the ancient Della Gherardescafamily still in residence, Castagneto feels as though it is still in the heart of feudal Tuscany.

I expect the locals are enjoying the post-summer lull in visitor numbers. Many are attracted by the area's connection with Nobel prize poet Giosué Carducci (from whom the village takes its name). But the village is highly popular with all nationalities of holiday makers who spend their days on the nearby beaches of Donoratico and Bibbona, and their evenings seeking out cooler air in Tuscan hilltop towns such as this one.
The province of Livorno, stretching down the Tuscan coastline, has this double edge to it: plenty of seaside pleasures, from beaches to abundant seafood, and a healthy scattering of medieval villages perched on gentle hills, where culinary delights are more likely to consist of wild boar, hams and satisfying homemade desserts. Oh, and the wine! All around Castagneto and neighbouring Bolgheri are some of Tuscany's most prestigious wineries, including Antinori, Ornellaia, Michele Satta, and of course the Tenuta San Guido, producer of the celebrated Sassicaia. The tradition of winemaking around here commands respect! Castagneto's enoteche offer local wines by the glass to accompany your platter of appetizers or your more traditional three-course dinner, while you survey the land below and the sea in the distance and get a taste of what is must be like to be a lord looking out from his castle.
Castagneto Carducci is under an hour's drive south of Livorno. There is free parking in Via Pascoli, which is just a short walk from the village centre which offers a good choice of restaurants and cafés, and a small but captivating selection of shops, including the Peperita store with its amazing range of locally grown chilli products. Piazza del Popolo and the adjacent tree-lined Piazzale Curiel offer the ideal spot for an after dinner stroll, or, for daytime visitors, a moment of meditation in the late afternoon sunshine.

To see images of Castagneto Carducci and the surrounding area, click here

Rainy cemetery thoughts

2012-04-29T22:46:00.005+02:00

Judas tree blossom and wild flowers in the English cemetery

The rain was falling steadily this morning when Jacqui and Graham arrived smiling and umbrella-less at the English cemetery, enthusing about 'this lovely place'. They had just come ashore from the Thomson Destiny having prearranged a visit to the cemetery: Graham works as a groundsman at the old Smollett estate, Cameron House (now a luxury hotel) on Loch Lomond, and is a local history enthusiast. Tobias Smollett is the cemetery's most famous resident.
My visitors were enchanted by this unique site and, after a damp half hour or so, left satisfied at having finally been able to visit the Scottish writer's grave.
Afterwards, when my rather bedraggled visitors had left, I stood for a few minutes on the steps of St George's, listening to the lovely singing coming from inside the church where an Orthodox mass for the local Romanian community was taking place. I thought about all these layers of history, and reflected that on a Sunday morning a century and a half ago the congregation would instead have been made up of members of the British Anglican community for whom the church was originally built.
Feeling uplifted, and somehow very privileged, I dashed across the road to the shelter of Pasticceria Verdi for an espresso...

Interrogazione!

2012-03-23T17:09:00.000+01:00

Italian High School - Istituto Tecnico Nautico Alfredo Cappellini, Livorno

An integral part of teaching in Italian schools, especially from middle school onwards, is based on regular oral testing known, rather threateningly to the English ear, as "Interrogazione". Pupils receive marks throughout the school year for each subject, based partly on written assessments and partly on these 'interrogations'. Although I have never actually witnessed this testing, from what I understand (having two sons, one nearly at the end of his schooling), once every so often a whole lesson is dedicated to orally examining pupils' knowledge on the area of the subject they are currently studying. Only a few members of the class are tested during one session, while the others just listen, or get on with something else (read: do nothing).

Typically, my children will tell me they "have to study" because their teacher's going to interrogate them the next day, and they then proceed to cram the chapter they have been told to prepare. Yesterday it was Science for my 13-year-old, now in the second year of middle school. We studied the heart and the circulatory system in alarming detail. "We?" Well, yes, of course: it is very common for parents to closely follow what their children are doing at school, and expected that they will be helping to prepare for oral tests by listening to the child recite what he/she has learned (not that I really know my left ventricle from my right, but that, it seems, is besides the point).

This system is so alien to anyone like me who went to school in the UK, and so difficult to take on board, even after so many years. I just don't understand why subjects like history, geography and science are considered by the Italian teaching system to be 'oral subjects'. But if we are lumped with interrogazioni, let the children at least be taught the skills they need to prepare independently for them (and for homework in general). Letting the parents do the work clearly gives some kids an advantage over others (like mine!). There seems to be a hangover from the days when (Italian) mothers were full-time mothers and had all afternoon to dedicate to schoolwork with their offspring. They still take great pride in this. To be told your child is "non seguito" ('not followed') (as I have been more than once by teachers) is the equivalent of being told you are a child basher.

But parent participation and my own feelings regarding preparing schoolkids for school work aside, this oral testing can be extremely nerve-wracking for children. Learning to confidently expound your knowledge in front of the rest of the class, with the risk of humiliation if you don't have the right answers, is a skill that not all adolescents find easy to acquire. And just as many of us do not perform at our best in exam situations, even when we are asked to write our answers, I fear that many Italian school children are getting a raw deal from the 'interrogazione' system.

Alien Cakes!

2012-01-19T19:39:00.000+01:00

"I'm making cakes!" I announced this afternoon to my kids' backs as they hammered that box-thing that keeps them glued to the TV screen for far too long. I only 'make cakes' about once a year, so I thought this rare event might entice them into the kitchen for a change. My 12-year-old turned his head quickly and, with a worried look on his face, asked what I was making exactly. He had one of his classmates round and I recognized his expression at once - it meant:

"Oh no, what weird English dish are you going to embarrass me with this time?"!

I was only making plain old scones, but I suppose they are strange to unaccustomed Italian kids, and my bi-lingual son often has issues with his multi-cultural life, unwilling, like most youngsters, to be different from everyone else.

Our Italian guest accepted a scone, bit into it and nodded approvingly. "Buono!" (I think he was a little surprised). My son smiled at me in relief and they proceeded to clear the plate.

The trials and tribulations of being an English mother in Italy!

(the photo is borrowed from cookbook.co.za - I was too slow off the mark to get a snap of mine. And they didn't look this good, anyway).

Change of Season

2011-09-19T19:47:00.008+02:00

Suddenly today the brightly-coloured cottons in my wardrobe seem gawdy and stupidly inadequate; I remember the winter duvet still waiting to go to the cleaners, the kids' jeans still bearing unmended holes. All at once the melons and peaches, salads and cold meats make me shiver and I want bananas, soups and lasagne; I want mugs of coffee instead of chilled water, full-bodied red wine instead of sparkling white. In the space of 24 hours, it is cosy indoors instead of stifling, raining outside, instead of baking. Time to swap sandals for trainers, t-shirts for sweatshirts, and reach for the pyjamas.. suddenly it's autumn.

Relics of Saint Valentine in Livorno

2011-02-13T13:06:00.002+01:00

The Mystery of San Valentino in Livorno

For most of us La Festa degli Innamorati, or Valentine’s Day, has associations of hearts, chocolates and romance, both in Livorno and elsewhere in Italy.But in our haste to buy gifts and cards for our loved ones, few of us are aware that Saint Valentine is much closer than we imagine: in fact right here in the heart of Livorno’s old Venezia district lie relics of that very saint most associated with love and romance, San Valentino Martire, carefully guarded in the lovely 18th-century Church of Santa Caterina.

Until recently the saintly remains were preserved in a glass casket inside the church. I saw them myself a couple of years ago when I went to see the acclaimed and then recently restored Vasari altar piece there. The parish priest pointed the relics out to me, and they are mentioned briefly by the Livorno Diocese on their website . Mysteriously though, since then the casket has been removed from public view.

The mystery deepens when looking for details of Saint Valentine himself. Celebrated as the patron saint of happy marriages, love, lovers, young people, and travellers, not much is really known about the saint, except his name and that he was buried at the Via Flaminia, north of Rome, on February 14th. There were probably several saints of the same name and many versions of their lives exist.

What's more, Livorno is not the only city with a claim on St Valentine’s remains – his relics seem to be scattered around Europe, from Dublin, to Roquemaure (France), to Vienna, Glasgow, Birmingham, and Sambir in the Ukraine.

Claims regarding saints’ remains may raise an eyebrow or two among sceptics, but there is no room for scepticism where faith or romance is concerned. Just as the faithful will always be inspired by religious relics, so romantics will continue to be moved by Saint Valentine’s day on 14th February, in Livorno and elsewhere.

With or without its St Valentine relics, Livorno's St Catherine’s Church is well worth a visit.

Pass the space oil

2010-12-01T16:39:00.003+01:00

After my olive-picking experience back in October at my friend Jessica's in Limoncino, I brought home a big bottle of Jessica's olive oil. Although the oil we use at home is carefully selected and great quality, this even more delicious new oil quickly became a favourite with the family. I covered the clear glass bottle in silver foil to protect it from the potentially damaging daylight, turning it into something my sons decided you'd find on a spaceship... and so it became known as the 'space oil'! 'Pass the space oil' is now a daily household phrase.. until it runs out I suppose.

Montenero Walking Again

2010-09-19T18:43:00.002+02:00

After an interval of four long months I resume my Montenero walk.

The clouds are so low, they graze the hilltop, and in the silence I am surprised to hear the sound of a priest reciting mass to a group of chanting pilgrims, no doubt on a visit to the Sanctuary. Further on, as I pass a row of houses, I hear bathroom noises, and raised voices in a heated argument - accusations I don't wait to hear. Dogs behind fences would attack me if they could; their sudden barking startles me and I nearly step on a flattened frog in the road. A team of gardeners loudly strim hedges in a garden of olive trees; in a couple of months all those olives will be ready to pick, and I will be wondering - once again - what to do with mine.

On the longest and hardest uphill climb I bump into another church group heading up to mass (someone at the front is carrying a tall object that rises above the congregation - I expect it to be a cross, but it is a loud speaker). They are slow so I overtake them, by now red and sweating from my exertion. I attract curious stares. I am the only one who doesn't know the words to their litany, and I hope they don't think me disrespectful as I dodge round them.

Despite the greyness, the view from Via Byron is as wide and breathtaking as ever. A young girl waters plants in the little shrine to the Madonna. Lord Byron probably rode his horse along here when he stayed in Livorno, but I doubt he would have stopped to pray. I don't stop either.

A quick check of the pulse tells me four months is too long a break, and I slow down slightly to save my heart from any more battering.

Shelley: a Bournemouth - Livorno Connection

2010-07-06T00:50:00.002+02:00

I took a few minutes today to visit the graveyard at St Peter's Church in Bournemouth, to look for a grave that connects Livorno and Bournemouth: that of the Shelley family. The English Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley spent several periods in Livorno from 1818 to 1820, writing works such as The Cenci, and To a Skylark there. He died two years later in a boating accident near La Spezia and was cremated on the beach near Viareggio. His heart, however, was buried in this cemetery in Bournemouth, alongside his wife, Mary (author of Frankenstein), his son Percy, and Percy's wife, Jane. Curiously, no mention is made of Shelley's heart on the gravestone, but the church assures me it is here. Unfortunately for Livorno, Shelley's ashes were buried in the English cemetery in Rome. Had they been brought to Livorno, the city's old English cemetery would certainly be better known than it is today. After taking a few photos, I went inside the 19th-century church for a quick look and was amused to find a café in one corner, with several people chatting and enjoying their morning tea together. How very English!