The Food and Wine Part

All roads lead to great food and wine.

The food.  Wow, I don’t even know where to begin to look for the words that describe the quality of the food found in and around Guardia.  And, I am saying this while being fully aware that I have not yet begun to fully explore all the food options there.  I know of at least half a dozen fine places to eat, but only ate in one – a great pizzeria in the Piazza Mercado called La Meridiana.  I had the best Pizza Margherita ever!  Amazing, fresh mozzarella, succulent tomatoes, fragrant basil and a perfect, soft crust along with the best olive oil (another great local product) I’ve ever tasted made this a memorable experience.

Most of the food-related experiences I had surrounded fresh food, bought locally.  Not only are there full time local shops that have just about anything you’d need, but on the weekends there are large open markets on the streets of Guardia and nearby Telese Terme.

At the Sunday market in Guardia, I tentatively approached the cheese vendor.  As I marveled at the selection of cheese I was greeted by the lady who either wanted to know what kind of cheese I wanted, or was complimenting me on my great hair.  I can’t be sure, but it was probably the former.  After determining that the idiot before her spoke not a lick of Italian, we digressed to a sort of cheesy sign language.  At that point, the lady’s son stepped up and also complimented me on my hair.  Or something.  Cheese Lady quickly informed her son that he shouldn’t talk to me, because I didn’t speak Italian, and then at that point the three of us started speaking cheese-sign to each other and I ended up with a kilo of some superb local cheeses. 

Formaggio spoken here.  

Buoyed by this successful bit of commerce, I strode over to the nearby grocery store where my mission was to capture one loaf of bread and a dozen eggs.  The bread was easy enough – in the corner, next to the butcher counter.  The eggs were more elusive, however.  They were not located in the refrigerated section where I expected them to be.  After lapping the small grocery a couple of times, I engaged a young woman of child-bearing age who was stocking shelves. In perfect English I asked “Where are your eggs?” (completely oblivious to how this could have been construed in any other setting).  She looked at once intrigued and befuddled at what was before her – an alien being speaking a language rarely heard in these parts.  We exchanged awkward grocery-store-sign language (apparently, I speak cheese-sign more fluently than grocery-sign) and then after I chose the nuclear option of clucking like a chicken, she got the picture and pointed to the pile of eggs not 3 meters behind me in the middle of the aisle.  As I walked out of the grocer, smiling at my chicken-clucking conquest, I was relieved that I didn’t have to employ the last resort – going all Michael Jackson on her and grabbing myself in order to give her an anatomical approximation of what I was looking for.

The seafood table at the Saturday market in Telese Terme.

I know less than you about wine.  Really – no matter who you are, I guarantee I know less than you.  If your 4 year old is reading this blog (I hope not, actually), I’m sure I know less than her, too.  I once bought a bottle of Fat Bastard wine because I liked the name.  I’m not much of a drinker at all (I mean, a drunk Irishman is soooooo cliché, no?) but while I was in Guardia for two weeks, I did sample about ten glasses of the fruity goodness.  Of the ten glasses, only two were commercial wines.  The remainder were all homemade.  EVERYBODY makes wine in Guardia.  Two notable homemade wines were a white wine I tried at the Tanna Del Orso (two glasses!) and a really amazing bitter orange liqueur(?) made by the extremely talented artist Salvatore Troiano.  I have spoken to several of the ex-pats about wine and, to a person, they rave about it.  Since they are all brilliant and talented people, I have to assume that they don’t have their heads up their asses when it comes to wine grading.  So, you know, based on their recommendations and what little experience I have, I’d have to stamp “incredible” on the wine, too.