dalla nostra terra

 

Puglia’s greatest wealth is the land and the abundance of olives and wine grapes. Driving through the countryside you see kilometers and kilometers of vineyards and olive groves. Some of these olive trees have been here since the Greeks, with enormous gnarly trunks producing gorgeous olives. Though olives can be found in all of the regions on the peninsula, Puglia is one of the regions which provides the majority of the olive oil in Italy. The grapes are mostly used to cut wines produced in the north, where the wine has always been more prized and expensive, but where the vineyards aren’t as vast and the grapes not at strong. Pugliese wine has started to cultivate more interest and has becoming more refined in its production in the past few years, we have certainly been enjoying it these past two weeks.

These are photographs of the abundance that we have found on the grounds of the masseria, taking gorgeous walks on the dirt roads that surround it and lead down to the Mar Piccolo bordering Taranto. The manicured grounds of the masseria are ornamented with fresh herbs,  rosemary, thyme, marjoram and sage. The trees produce olives and almonds, prickly pears blooming off of cacti and in front of the main building sits the chef’s garden with fennel, lettuces, peppers and onions. I imagine that much of what we are eating in the restaurant is cultivated within the land of the masseria and what is ordered from both land and sea from only a few miles away. Not needing to claim any links to Slow Food, the food in this country is tied to the idea of slow and local more than any place I have ever been. No trends, just tradition.

One Year Ago: Potato-Mushroom Cake with Braised Lentils

Three Years Ago: pesce all’acqua pazza

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~ by italicious on January 24, 2012.

One Response to “dalla nostra terra”

  1. One of the great regrets in life is that in all the years I spent in Italy, I never made it down to Puglia. I have roots there, from my paternal grandfather, and I wish I had taken the opportunity. I guess I had been put off by the disdain that I heard from my grandfather—”there’s nothing there”, he said. I guess that may be typical of immigrants. But every time I see photos or read about the place, I realize he was very wrong about that!

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