While in Costa Rica last week, the directions I received to the closest frutteria went something like this, “Stay on the paved road. Follow all of the twists and turns until you see it on your left. If you find yourself on a dirt road get back on the paved one.”
After a few bumpy miles, we hit the frutteria and the food portion of our adventure began. Continue reading
I had this image of myself romping through the Italian woods, slim jeans (always slimmer than the true pic) tucked securely into knee high, waterproof boots, hugged by a warm sweater that I wouldn’t mind getting smeared with shmutz and the company of barking, highly trained dogs alerting our very own trifolau (truffle hunter) to the exact spot where these lumpy tubers would be pried free of the moist soil with an ecstatic yelp of ECCO!
I flew off to Northwestern Italy to hunt truffles and taste the magnificent, Nebbiolos, Barolos and more lovely reds than I can clearly recall. Continue reading