Suitcase Foodist Travels: The BEST Meal I Ever Ate – Certaldo, Italy

As I browse pages of my life from the momentous occasions to the little moments that go into each and every day, I’ve discovered that what ties them together along a string, is in fact a string of meals and food memories. I’m sure it is the same for you.

For example:

• I remember the surprise birthday cupcakes my mom delivered to my classroom in 3rd grade – I thought she’d forgotten. They had pink frosting, coconut and red hot candies on top

• I recall the eggs I was eating (scrambled) when I decided to shake up my entire life and dedicate it to volunteer service for well over a year.

• I’ll never forget the truly awful apple-tart thing with hot sugar syrup stuff you were supposed to pour on top… I had it on my first date with my husband. I (deliberately?) forget the actual name of the thing. I do remember eating it because I thought he wanted dessert (he didn’t) and it turns out he ordered it because he thought I wanted dessert (I didn’t). I also remember thinking that we were just going to be really good friends. That part turned out to be true – we became the best of friends.

I have a meticulous memory of meals and gatherings. What we ate is married to the conversation in my head – the feel and the flavor of the moment are intertwined and baked together.

One of my favorite topics when I am meeting new acquaintances is: “Tell me about the best meal you ever had?” I’m frequently surprised that it is a tough for many people name THE MEAL that is fixed in a swirl: a convergence of food/place/company coming together in a perfect point in time.

Out of all those meals across all those days with all those people that fit like puzzle pieces into my life I can name 3 (or rather 4-ish) perfect meals – really the BEST meals I ever ate. I’d love to share them with you and hope that you’ll share yours back in the comments below.  This will be the first in a series of posts.

Certaldo, Tuscany, Italy

When I was 20 I went and wandered around Europe for months – traveling wherever the wind and my mood happened to take me. I was with my closest friend for part of the trip and by myself for awhile as well. Somehow we ended up in a tiny, medieval walled city named Certaldo Alto – which is half way between Florence and Sienna for those of you that are keen on maps.  The author of The Decameron was from there for those of you who are keen on books.

My friend Kate and I wandered up the hill and around the village in the hot July sun. We were thirsty, tired and more than that, bone tired – we’d been traveling for well over a month and a half at that point and were a little homesick. It was dusty and the cobblestones were hell on the feet. Since we were 20, we never planned well in the shoe or the food department and discovered that we were starving right during siesta time. Everything was closed.

We found ourselves in the inner courtyard of a restaurant hoping to at least buy a bottle of mineral water – with ‘gas.’  The little old Italian man there took pity on us and sat us down and fed us “what he happened to have on hand” since the kitchen was closed. What he happened to have on hand was a truffle/ricotta/sage rustic ravioli with some finely grated cheese and fresh truffles on top plus a good crusty bread and a view over the entire Tuscan countryside on the side. It was my introduction to truffles, and what an introduction!  We had the place to ourselves and a plate of pasta that has never found it’s equal in my mind or in my mouth.

Fast forward 13 years – almost to the day. When Greg and I planned a trip to Italy earlier this year I insisted that we stop in Certaldo again – purely on the memory of that meal. We were staying in the main square (no hiking up the hill this go around). I was more than a little heartbroken when the lovely restaurant I had raised up to perfection was closed for a couple of weeks.

We wandered off down the cobblestone street (I was wearing much more comfortable shoes than my 20 year old self chose to wear), and into a bar. Again, we arrived at the wrong time – right when the sun was at it’s wicked Tuscan peak for the day. The streets were empty and we sat on a bench side by side in front of a wobbly table on a very narrow street and ordered.

We got a plate with 6 cured meats and a plate with a variety cheese and an onion jam that I still crave in flashes.  The Certaldo Onions are world famous and even appear on the coat of arms for the town with the words: “By nature I am both strong and sweet, and I please those at work and those at rest.”

We added a cold, bubbly drink and the requisite unsalted Tuscan bread.  Crusty and made to lap up rich Tuscan sauces or (in our case) to eat with salty meats and rich cheeses without taking away from the flavor of the main event.  I

We sat in a sliver of shade and talked and ate and dreamed and sat silent – for hours.  It was really that day that Suitcase Foodist was born in my mind.  In true Italian cafe style, we were left alone.  When we went in to pay we were handed a hard little Italian cookie and a digestif to send us on our way.

Again, the time, the place and the person I was with converged into yet another perfect meal on that hilltop. Mouth and Mind and Soul walked away nourished.  I am already planning my next visit.

NOW, your turn. Please do share in the comments all about your favorite meal / food moment that is embedded on your taste buds forever.  I’d love to hear and maybe share!

Lydia, hungry, walking down food memory lane