Let me explain Grappa, if you don’t know about it. Grappa is the national firewater of Italy. Every country has its spirits that are of high alcohol content and always referred to as a “digestives”. Yea, right. Russia has their vodka, Mexico has their tequila, Scotland has their single malts. The Czech Republic has becherovka and in America we have “moonshine” or maybe straight Kentucky bourbon if you are talking legal. Grappa is made from what is left of the wine grapes after the juice is extracted. Or as I say, grape skins, twigs and leaves. It is fermented, distilled and bottled. It has a unique flavor that ranges from cheap stuff that really does taste like grape skins, twigs and leaves to the more expensive bottlings with a nice rich flavor. The waiters always smile wryly then I order grappa. I am not really sure why.

After a dinner the previous night of unique flavors we slept in until 9:30. At the restaurant at the bottom of town, Ann had an antipasto of smoked Carpaccio and Parmesan slices over arugula. I had large hand made ravioli stuffed with potato and cheese in a wild boar sauce. For our second courses, Ann had wild boar stew and I had a huge wedge of aged pecorino cheese grilled and placed over arugula. There were no half liters of wine but the waiter said we could take any remaining wine in the bottle home. The markup on restaurant wine is surprisingly small here. For desert Ann had torte di nonna (Grandmother’s cake – hear that Eloise?). I had grappa (Hear that Eloise?). It was this heavy meal and the lugging of these old full bodies up the mountain that was particularly demanding. Fortunately we did not have to carry the remaining wine in the bottle because its contents had disappeared during dinner. Perhaps that was part of the problem marching up the hill?

The only obligations today are to begin packing up for the overnight ferry adventure and going back to La Foce Gardens. This is the site of our previous “rainout”. We had the tickets signed so we could come back the following Wednesday (the only day it is open), weather permitting, of course. Today is again a boring not-a-cloud-in-the-sky 75 degrees with gentile breezes of the mildly cooling variety.

So Ann packs up on our drive to La Foce a raincoat and umbrella. Remember not a cloud in the sky. The man in charge of tickets and the guide both got a hoot over seeing her with that after our interesting time seven days prior. The tour of the garden was much more enjoyable today.

The most amazing thing happened at dinner. I ordered the pizza delle diavalo (devil). This is a pizza with spicy salami and TABASCO. Tabasco! If they have Tabasco I can have more, right? Oh, yes right. I have not had a meal with kicking flavors for 37 days. I have been craving anything Mexican. So tonight I had the pizza slathered in Tabasco sauce from the bottle our waitress brought to the table for me. My lips were burning when I finished. I was so happy I did not even need a grappa! Heck, I could not even have tasted it anyway.

Lesson for Day 37: Waking up and looking out the window of the apartment is just as exciting after four weeks as it was our first day here.