Savouring the Tuscan hills
Charles Betts makes us envious with his glorious food escapade
Quite often, when planning my next holiday, I get all too carried away with the prospect of exciting adventures and wonderful discoveries. I’ve plodded along on a camel in the Sahara, watched an interesting game of ping-pong in Bangkok, and even catapulted myself out of a plane somewhere in Texas. Rather thrilling, you might think. But no, they were all massively disappointing. It seems that the more exotic the holiday, the more vile the cooking. Travelling isn’t pleasant when the cooking is bad, especially when you spend more time on the loo than off it.
So for my most recent trip, my planning focused on food. I’ve just got back from Tuscany, and it’s all been terribly bourgeois. Winter is the best time to visit as there are no bus-loads of arse-scratching sweaty tourists, no sweltering temperatures, and no air-conditioning; just stunning vistas of green hills, vineyards and olive groves, with no annoyances, no incessant clicking of cameras, and no shouting and glacial shrieks of “Parlare English?”
Winter is the best time to visit as there are no bus-loads of arse-scratching sweaty tourists
It was in the lovely town of Volterra that I stumbled across a restaurant that offers everything Tuscan cuisine should be. Where tourist traps are countless, Del Duca offers a welcome respite with perfectly al dente papardelle, scrumptious wild boar ham, and best of all, heaven of heavens, fillet with black truffles.
The staff are charming. You don’t get the feeling that you’re being robbed, or being charged £100 for a plate of pasta. Del Duca strikes a fine balance between genuine, simple Italian home cooking and the rip-off, pretentiously crap restaurants that relish devouring the afore-mentioned arse-scratching tourists.
You can feast on rabbit, ossobucco (cross-cut veal shanks braised with vegetables, wine and broth), and the best tasting ravioli you’ll bloody eat – be it stuffed with truffles, nettles, or pecorino.
The place has a cellar divided into two sections: one for seasoning hams and cheeses; the other for storing wine. And, ooh, what a wine list! It’s simply terrific, with every variety of Tuscan wine that you can fathom: Chianti Classico, Brunello di Montalcino, Vernaccia, even the stonkingly expensive “Super Tuscan” Sassicaia. And if that’s not enough, they stock stuff from Abruzzo, Piemonte, Sicily, Marche, Molise and, ahem, France.
The only pit-fall is the lack of any decent fish on the menu. But then, this is a restaurant that serves local produce that’s in season. Forget strawberries in December, or Porcini mushrooms in the Spring. This is where you get your bruschette with proper red, juicy tomatoes bursting with flavour, and your T-bone steak honestly cooked on the grill with salt, pepper, and oil. If you want fish, go to a seaside town.
Tuscany is just about the only place I’ll bother visiting again. Goddamnit, how many places did I have to travel to before discovering this culinary temple? How many stupid, long haul, nose-pickingly dull flights did I have to sit through? I should have known sooner, how was I so stupid? Yes, Greece has the Acropolis of Athens, New York its skyscrapers, Australia the Great Barrier Reef. But when it comes to food, Italians do it best.
Via di Castello 2,
56048 – Volterra – Toscana
tel. +39 0588 81510
