The olfactory compass of my intrepid partner, Janine King, directs me to take the road much less travelled from Chianciano across the blank part of the Umbrian map towards Spello to the north of Todi. We decide to go anyway. We find to our delight, empty little winding roads through all the usual vineyards and olive groves up into chestnut forest past small family sized saw mills and down again with tremendous views, into a small valley.
It is We are encouraged to sit at one of these 5 tables, in the shade of the awning and look at the one page hand written menu; Roast local rabbit, stuffed household pigeon, truffle omelette, baked egg plant, garden vegetables etc. We sit and consider. There is a small hill in the centre of the village and lots of little winding lanes full of very old buildings that show in their layered masonary facades, that they have been here for a very long time and have had their usefulness re-assigned many times.
There are people wandering about, old ladies on their bicycles peddling home with their shopping. A tiny ape motorbike truck pulls up and a huge man unfolds himself from it. A hunter dressed in cams walks past carrying gun and a plastic carry bag with a pheasants tail sticking out. He hands it to the chef, the menu on the board is altered. We sit and observe. I decide on the roasted pidgin and My Partner decides on the egg plant parmigiano with a bottle of water on the side. The girl is surprised, everyone round here has wine and still drives!
Are you sick? From the kitchen, there is a flurry, a squark and a little puff of feathers, the oven door slams shut. We sit and we sit, I can see straight into the small kitchen, just enough room for two in there, but there are three of them working in the narrow space.
She ladles out something from a huge ceramic jar near the door and comes out with a large bowl of what turns out to be olives, all local and preserved onsite of course, accompanied by crisply crunchy sourdough bread with a chewy centre, fresh from the oven an hour earlier.
