You may also enjoy climbing to the heights of wonder in Capri or to the top of St. Peter’s Basilica. Or delight in soaking up the ancient and cultural history in Milan, Firenze (Florence), Amalfi, Pompeii, Lecce and Rome. You can bask in the sun and rugged beauty of the Tyrrhenian Sea, the Adriatic Sea, or the gorgeous Amalfi Coast. Or you can chat for hours over family meals while collecting a compendium of regional and traditional recipes (cucina povera), while you capture a rare glimpse inside the secrets to the Mediterranean psyche. It is truly a trip of a lifetime.
Barnes&Noble
IndieBound
In the junction between memoir and
cookbook, 'A September to Remember: Searching for Culinary Pleasures at the
Italian Table,' by Carole Bumpus lives quite cozily.
Never before have I read a memoir that so
quickly and smoothly pulled me in and urged me to leave my every day cares at
the door. Reading this book, I felt like I was touring the Italian countryside
and indulging in these sinfully delicious foods myself.
Bumpus wrote this memoir to reflect on a
trip to Italy that she and her husband, Winston took all the way back in 1998.
In the prologue for the book, she says that the couple decided to take this
trip after she retired as a family therapist and the moment she got to Italy
she was hooked. I can see why. The Italy that Bumpus describes is one of magical
people, breathtaking architecture, mesmerizing views and, of course, one-of-a-kind
meals that become more of an experience than simply a means to fill your
stomach.
What about that food? Well, Bumpus was so
taken with the meals that she enjoyed during her time in Italy that she asked
for recipes for many of them, and later included them in this memoir. Dishes
like Fettuccine alla Papalina and Pasta alla Vongole sound
intimidating at first, but I was able to cook one or two of the meals myself
without trouble—and if you know me, that's saying something!
I am so grateful to Carole Bumpus for
writing this delicious memoir and for making me try new things in the kitchen!
'A September To Remember' is one to check out for sure! I am going to be
hunting down more of Bumpus' books to enjoy as well. If they are as good as
this, I'm sure I will be giving them five stars, too!
CHAPTER EIGHT
WET AND WILD at TERME di SATURNIA
A
September to Remember by Carole Bumpus
We awakened
on Sunday morning (in Tuscany) to church bells ringing and overcast skies. We
(my husband, Winston, and I) had been on the road for ten days, but it seemed
like it had been weeks. It was definitely time to wash some clothes. Another
hurdle to leap in a foreign country is to figure out the appliances at hand.
Some washers work on a principle of centrifugal force—forwards, then backwards,
then forwards again—taking well over an hour for each cycle. Because Lisa’s
washer was not known to us, Lisa came bounding over to give us a hand and help
us conquer our ignorance.
“Dryers? No, thank you. We don’t have
one,” she said, with a quick repartee.
So, we learned the trick of hanging out
of the second-story bedroom window, where the clothesline was attached to the
house and a tree in the backyard. Precariously, we took turns dangling our wet
ensembles along the clothesline pulley system—pulling and leaning, leaning, and
pulling—until every article had been artistically displayed. Just as we placed
the last clothespin into place, a crack of lightning and a roar of thunder sent
us hurtling back inside. I slammed the window shut. The heavens opened, and a
second rinse cycle ensued.
“I guess, we
could have put soap in the pockets, then hung them on the line,” Win laughed.
Ah, well! (I love my pragmatic husband!)
Just then
Lisa came back in the front door and asked if we would like to go with her to
the terme in Saturnia. “It will be raining off and on today,” she said,
“but since it’s a hot water spring, we will be in water anyway. So why not?”
We agreed, ignoring the earlier crack of lightning. Why not? So, we
headed off for our adventure hoping to find our clothes still on the line and
not strewn across the valley when we returned.
“Saturnia got its
name from the Roman god, Saturnus,”
Lisa said, as she drove through the hills and valleys on the way. “One legend has it that
Saturnus grew tired of the constant wars between humans and sent a thunderbolt
to earth which created a magic spring of hot sulfurous waters, which over time
came to ease the pain of mankind.”
“Sounds
like it would be good if all mankind came for a long soak,” I said,
watching the landscape blur past us.
“How hot
is the water?” Win asked. He, too, was eyeing the gray clouds and drizzle that
seemed to be following us.
“The temperature is said to hold at 37.
2 degrees Celsius, or around 99 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s quite relaxing.”
Hearing those words, Winston settled
back in his seat and did just that. Relaxed. “Perfect temperature for us, I’m
sure!” he sighed.
At the spa
we made our way into the modern facilities that housed the bathhouse, showers,
and snack bar. These grounds were massive, and the facilities were part of an
elegant luxury hotel/spa with four pools and various smaller pools and showers.
I figured we could spend hours traveling back and forth between all the
options, but we began in the larger pool connected to the hotel. The water, a
deep mossy green color, made the bottom indiscernible. The pool was cordoned
into swimming lanes with white floats holding ropes in place. We eased slowly
into the pool. Why slowly? The water was hot, and because everyone else was
moving in slow motion. No diving, no fast swimming; no one was even swimming
laps. In fact, folks were dangling on the ropes to keep their heads above the
water or were hanging on the sides of the pool doing the same. The water was
steamy hot, and all our energy dissipated. Greenish-black globs of moss, or
some mysterious substance that had floated up from the bottom of the pool
hovered around us. (No, I didn’t go down
to check it out).
“I know it looks disgusting,” Lisa
said, “but the moss is supposed to be good for your skin. You’re supposed to
rub it on your face and body. This is a beauty treatment that has been
practiced here for possibly three thousand years.”
Three thousand years? “Okay,” I agreed.
But first I looked around to see how others were handling this “treatment.”’
They seemed as disgusted as I was, but I decided to give it a short go. First,
I paddled farther out. I didn’t want to make a spectacle of myself so close to
the side of the pool. And then while hanging onto a rope, I attempted my
“facial.” I figured it couldn’t hurt. I scooped up a handful of moss and began
to pat it onto my cheeks. I looked around, but saw no others as foolish, so I
scooted the muck down to my arms instead and rubbed it around, before piling on
more. Before long I felt I must look like the Monster from the Black Lagoon, so I dipped under the murky
waters to rinse myself clean. It worked. At
least, I tried it, I thought. I paddled back to the side of the pool,
relieved that all gunky remnants had glided off. Thank goodness. But now
my eyes were burning from sulfur. In fact, it was difficult to see the side of
the pool, and for some reason, the smell of rotten eggs became even more
pronounced. I hit the side coughing and sputtering.
Winston, already out of the pool, reached down to pull me out. “Let’s try some other pools!” Again, I was game. But once I hoisted myself up, I heard the titter of children’s laughter around me. Win, coming to the rescue, began to pluck one, then two, then half-a-dozen globs of green gunk from my hair, my ears, off my suit and from my cleavage. I had failed to rinse the stuff off. Because I had gone blind and couldn’t see a thing, I had made a spectacle of myself after all. Well, I was grateful that only Lisa and Winston knew me. Off to the next pools! What could possibly befall me there?
Books One and Two of her Savoring the Olde Ways series, Searching for Family and Traditions at the French Table, were published in August 2019 and 2020; her third book in the series, A September to Remember: Searching for Culinary Pleasures at the Italian Table is due out April 27, 2021. All five books have been published by She Writes Press which is part of SparkPoint Studio, LLC.
Website: https://carolebumpus.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/carolejbumpus
Twitter: https://twitter.com/CaroleBumpus
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carole.bumpus/
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