Twelve months later, the seasons have move round and once more the fire is lit outside Aristo’s bar in Barga Vecchia, the tables are cleared, and the contest is on in earnest with this time, almost three times the number of contestants putting their best plates of castagnaccio in front of an eager and hungry crowd ready to be judged.

Thanks to the work of the organisers, the Lake Angels, it is once again a strictly controlled event with no names on the plates just numbers with people casting their votes for which in their opinion is the best.

As the accordion played in the background, the votes were counted and the final winner announced to one and all.

listen to ‘Castagnaccio 2011’ on Audioboo

It was a fiercely contested Trofeo Castagnaccio this year with 15 entries (plus a last minute entry with was accepted for tasting but could not be judged as it arrived too late for the votes) but it came as little surprise to anybody in the bar when it was announced that Natale Bertolini was awarded this year’s best Castagnaccio 2011.

Natale Bertolini, the maestro of all things chestnut has been producing castagnaccio from his oven for the past half a century, his skill is widely known in the valley and once more he has proved it by winning for the second year running the Trofeo but coming up close on his heels was his daughter in law, Tiziana Faccio who took the second prize and then the the women from the Altana restaurant who took the third.

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The humble sweet chestnut has been an important ingredient in the Mediterranean diet – Homer mentions them, and Pliny even says which kinds were grown in Southern Italy. With time their cultivation spread throughout the peninsula, because they were one of the few food crops that could be grown on steep mountain slopes, and also one of the few crops that could be expected to provide sustenance through the long winter months.

By the middle ages castagne were the staple food of the peasants in large parts of Italy. In this area it has been the saviour of many people who otherwise would have starved when times got really bad and the sweet chestnut flour is still known to this day in Garfagnana as “poor mans flour”

This afternoon I tried my hand at one of the most easiest and tastiest dishes from Garfagnana and Barga – Castagnaccio The classic sweet dish from this area made from chestnut flour

I sifted 250 g of chestnut flour (good quality chestnut flour from one of the local mills at Fosciandora in Garfagnana) into a large bowl with a good pinch of salt and slowly added 200 ml of water and 200 ml of milk – the added milk does change the taste and the colour of the final castagnaccio .. (the original recipe would have been just 400 ml of water)

I stirred the mix until it was a good liquid batter.

I preheated the oven to 180° and prepared with butter the inside of a large flat oven dish.

I poured the mixture into the dish and sprinkled on top, a good couple of handful of walnuts, some pine nuts, sliced orange rinds* and a few springs of rosemary.

A couple of teaspoons of olive oil sprinkled across the top and into the oven for 40 minutes.

Cut into slices and hey presto in less than 40 minutes from start to finish – Castagniaccio.

Ingredients

250 g of chestnut flour
200 ml of water
200ml of milk
walnuts
pine nuts
sliced orange peel
rosemary
olive oil
salt

* Ok so I cheated a bit with the sliced orange peel. To add just that extra hit of sweetness, I heated them briefly in a small pan in some of the juice of the orange and added two small spoons of sugar to caramelise them. Naughty I know.

I Lake Angels organizzano per sabato 10 dicembre a partire dalle 18 in piazza Salvo Salvi (del Comune) una degustazione di castagnaccio. Durante la serata ci sarà l’assegnazione del 2° trofeo “Il castagnaccio del Natale” per il miglior castagnaccio realizzato secondo le ricette popolari e locali.

Now – to wasps. Living amongst chestnut trees and watching Marco caring for them I could not help but be drawn in to the problems that lie ahead for the forests that surround us, and the implications. And it all began with a wasp. In the spring of 2000 Italian nurseries began to import Chinese chestnut saplings as they were known to produce larger nuts and hence chestnut farmers could increase their yield, less nuts to the kilo. They sold well. What no one knew was that dormant within them were the larvae of the cinipide, the Chinese chestnut gall wasp, and as the year progressed the insects were hatched and began their cycle of burrowing into the leaves and soft, young branches of chestnut trees to lay more eggs.

This is quite similar to the arrival in the UK of the leaf miner moth from Greece nine years ago, thought to have come by lorry, and which is now threatening the future of horse chestnuts. It also took a few years for the significance of this new arrival in Italy to be understood. Its attack on the trees does not kill them outright but it stunts their growth, weakens their immunity and gradually they fall into decline. The astonishing thing is the speed of infestation, the cinipide can travel and become established across an area of between 70 and 100 square kilometres in a year, and it is now present in every region of Italy.

As this has happened in other countries over the last century there are precedents to learn from. Chemical intervention is proven ineffective, and it poisons the land, so the only option is to follow nature. China has another wasp, the torymus, that feeds on the larvae of the cinipide and hence can keep the balance. They are now being bred on a large scale in Italy in order to release them into areas where the cinipide is damaging the forests.

This sounds like a straight forward and simple process but sadly it is all happening very slowly, bureaucracy being what it is, and those directly affected, like Marco, have become impatient. Local councils are slow to act, many don’t understand the consequences themselves and are dismissive rather than proactive.

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In nearby Pistoia there are already vast tracts of dead chestnut trees surrounded by clouds of insects. In years to come if nothing was done this would be the outcome across Northern Tuscany. All the small forest animals who live on chestnuts would be driven down from the mountains to towns and villages to forage, and the wolves who prey on them would have to follow. There would be no chestnut timber and all the businesses related would struggle. Tourism would become a thing of the past, who would come to look at ugly graveyards across these mountains where beautiful canopies of green used to be? Selling property would be difficult to say the least. In short communities as well as the ecology would suffer immensely and the inevitable cost of supporting them would be a lot more than taking action now.

So I am on now the fringes of a local working group, mostly farmers, led by Pietro, a retired oceanographer who is giving much of his time to helping them. He also understands the politics well and is wisely campaigning by being very attentive to the local officials who are in a position to make something happen rather than antagonising them. He calls me “our English journalist” which makes me feel quite grand.

A little while ago we visited Camporgiano higher up in the Garfagnana. There is an agricultural centre where all the fruit and vegetables traditional to the area are propagated so that seed banks can be maintained and no species dies out, and alongside it there is reported to be a breeding station for the torymus wasp. It turned out to be more research than breeding and just a further frustration when the guys are looking for positive signs of action. I had understood about a third of what was discussed and was pleased to hear that we would stop for caffe on the way home, a chance to ask a few questions. But I still forget that to Italian men particularly, having a coffee is simply a pit stop, no sooner is the cup to their lips than it is back on the bar and they are on their way out of the door again.

Our next outing was memorable. We were to visit chestnut trees that are two thousand years old, high up above Montefegatesi. This time Marco was working so my friend Carol came along as she has acres of chestnuts and is keen to learn all she can about caring for them. We met the others for caffe before we set off and last in, I downed my espresso in one and strode out again as fast as they did, and only when we were up the mountain did I realise that my handbag was still on the counter. No sooner had I said it than Mauro had phoned his wife, who phoned Simonetta, who phoned Marco, who had the number for the bar, and it was kept safe until my return.

Where the hairpin bends of the road petered out at the top of the mountain a dirt track replaced it, winding gently down the other side into a broad and beautiful valley with hardly a trace of habitation. Bumping slowly along we came to the two ancient trees by the side of the track. Their girth is vast, standing beside a trunk Carol seemed as tiny as a child. Thankfully they have been well cared for, pruned and pollarded so that they are still vigorous and healthy. It was hard to take in that they have been there for 2000 years and it is an ideal place to campaign for the torymus wasp to be released in the hope that they will remain safe.

Then we drove very slowly down the valley, passing an old stone built farm that looked just as it would have done a century ago, not a machine in sight, dogs barking at unaccustomed strangers, rows of winter vegetables, and smoke coming from the chimney. Further on the land levelled out into a little plain dotted with chestnut trees between two gentle hillsides that swept up on either side. Here and there were the remains of cottages, just piles of stones now but evidence that this was once a little community.

And work is still going on, half a dozen people were under the trees, the women picking chestnuts, the men cleaning, pruning and piling up timber. All was neat and well cared for. No one lives here now but during the autumn they come up to harvest in the traditional way. Sadly the crop is poor this year, our unusually warm autumn allowed the little weevil that eats into chestnuts to flourish and there are an average of 60% less usable nuts. In Cuneo, in the region of Piedmont where the cinipide was first discovered, and has now had enough time to do real damage, the yield used to average 3,500 kili. This year it is 100.

The men talked as we walked through the trees, discussing their age, the way the little forest had been worked for so long and how they were maintaining it. A truly beautiful place, the mossy floor between the ancient trees muffled the sound of our feet and all was still and peaceful as if time did not exist. Nature at its most powerful and evocative.

Our visit ended in a tiny house under the trees that had been rebuilt, just one room, a fireplace, a bunk bed, a sink in one corner and a big kitchen table. This is where they stay sometimes when they are working here, but now they opened red wine, we sat round the table and toasted the future and success for our endeavours in keeping special places like this alive. Glasses clinked amidst laughter, it felt positive and I felt privileged to be there. I hope that we can make a difference.

images from oil paintings of chestnuts by Keane

Just last week they held their first roasting (article here) It was very successful but they did slightly over exaggerate on a) the quantity of wood needed and b) the amount of sausages needed to satisfy the hungry hoards … at the end of the day, there  was still a large pile of wood sitting in the corner of the piazza and a fridge full of sausages in Aristo’s bar.

No problem, a good enough excuse to organise another event a week later.

And the Christmas decorations? Workmen were busily stringing up the decorations in Barga Vecchia while the roasting was taking place . Christmas seems to have come early this year.

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So just what are Mondine ?

Mondine  are made by roasting chestnuts in a special steel pan, shaped like a deep sided frying pan with holes in the bottom. The chestnut are first castrate (castrated)  by having a small incision made with a knife cut into them, removing a small portion of the skin so that the chestnuts do not explode in the heat of the fire.  They are then placed in a pan which is held over an open fire.

The pan has a long handle,  about a metre long allowing a good distance from the fire.  As the skin on the chestnuts closest to the bottom of the pan becomes burned the chestnuts are flipped over allowing the ones on top to become cooked.  This process is repeated until all the skins are crisp and practically burnt off.

Depending on  which tradition is followed,  a small glass of red wine is also tipped onto the chestnuts before a final roasting on the open flames.  The chestnuts are then either tipped onto a table or sometimes into a hessian sack which is agitated between two people until the remaining skins on the chestnuts have been removed.

These are the mondine and they are now ready to eat.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbAQ_PbwiYk

post scriptum

The following morning the fire was still smoking and so rather than waste all that heat, a half a dozen potatoes from the giornaledibarganews vegetable garden were wrapped up in silver foil and buried in the hot ashes … an hour later, they were cooked and ready for the table. Split in half, a dollop of salted butter and nothing better in this world – tasty hot baked potatoes.

That afternoon, the fire was still going, it must have been some pretty good seasoned wood, so a final pan of roast chestnuts were quickly roasted and handed round before as darkness fell and the flames finally died down to reveal glowing embers, perfect for roasting sausages but a small problem arose – no grill to put them on.

This was solved by placing two found terracotta tiles onto the embers and cooking the sausages directly on the now heated tiles. Necessity is the mother of Invention after all.

Noi possiamo garantire la bontà delle cose che erano state preparate: le mondine, cotte con la classica padella, oramai una vera e propria rarità nelle feste paesane, erano dolcissime; il castagnaccio croccante e delicato e dolcissimi anche i necci con una ricotta da far venire l’acquolina in bocca solo a pensarci.

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Insomma proprio un bel pomeriggio, in mezzo a tanta brava gente di queste parti, in un paesino dal fascino tutto particolare ed a tanti sapori immutati nel tempo.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlxZDN2tM7g

Sommocolonia was in festa today for the Festa of San Frediano – their patron saint. There is a phrase used in the area which says ” San Frediano – la neve al monte e al piano” meaning that snow generally falls on the area during the third week in November but no sign of snow in Barga today.

Roast chestnuts – castagne and castagnacci, necci con ricotta and vin brulé were all on offer this afternoon outside the church for those who made it up the hill.

How Sommocolonia ended up with an Irish patron saint is something of a mystery as Saint Fridianus (Italian: San Frediano ) was apparently a prince of Ireland who became a hermit on Mount Pisano after going on pilgrimage to Rome.

The Catholic Encyclopedia states: “Remarkable for sanctity and miracles was St. Fridianus (560-88), son of Ultonius, King of Ireland, or perhaps of a king of Ulster (Ultonia), of whom in his “Dialogues” (III, 10) St. Gregory the Great relates a miracle.”

He was appointed bishop of Lucca by the pope. During his episcopate, Lucca was attacked by the Lombards. He may have founded a group of eremetical canon priests; these canons merged with the Canons Regular of the Lateran in 1507. – source Wikipedia

Il borgo di fondazione longobarda circondato da curatissimi castagneti ha accolto migliaia di visitatori, in parte giunti con il treno dell’iniziativa “Sapori in carrozza” partito da Viareggio.

Fin dalle 12.00 le cucine della festa hanno prodotto bontà come pasta di a base di farina di castagne e salumi tipici accompagnati da pane casalingo e vino del posto, in una sorta di percorso gastronomico le cui tappe erano costituite anche da stand con dolci tipici, pasta fritta, necci con ricotta o nutella, bomboloni preparati con farina di neccio ed altre golosità.

Immancabili le mondine, preparate in uno spiazzo soleggiato a ridosso dei primi castagni dove nelle padelle appoggiate sulla brace sono state fatte saltate centinaia di chili di castagne sane e polpose, dato che da queste parti il cinipide, il temutissimo parassita del castagno, pare non aver ancora portato grossi danni.

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Per tutta la giornata un grandissimo via vai di persone ha riempito le vie del paesino fortificato, arricchito non solo dalla gastronomia ma anche dalla rievocazione dei mestieri di un tempo a cura dell’associazione culturale Smaskerando, dalla mostra di foto d’epoca “Com’erimo” – curata da Ivano Stefani e, soprattutto dalla battitura, a mano e a macchina, delle castagne secche.

L’associazione Gambo Rosso ha anche provveduto a visite guidate nei vicini paesi e soprattutto nei boschi di castagni per scoprirne le peculiarità e per capire il ciclo della castagna, e, dato il periodo, è stato possibile anche vedere un metato in funzione.

Il tutto grazie all’impegno del G.S. Fosciandora, gli Amici di Lupinaia, il Centro Commerciale Naturale e l’Associazione Culturale Gamborosso, sotto il patrocinio del Comune di Fosciandora e con l’impegno di tutti gli abitanti del comune, che non potevano trovare un modo migliore per la promozione del territorio.

Fosciandora è un comune di 670 abitanti della provincia di Lucca. Il territorio di Fosciandora venne annesso dalla Repubblica di Lucca nel XIII secolo. Dopo la penetrazione degli estensi in Garfagnana, avvenuta a partire dal 1430, esso fu diviso tra due stati. Le cosiddette “tre terre”, ovvero i centri di Treppignana, Riana e Lupinaia, rimasero alla Repubblica e furono comprese nella vicaria di Gallicano. Il resto del comune attuale finì invece nel Ducato di Modena. Nel 1847, con la fine del Ducato di Lucca, la vicaria di Gallicano fu anch’essa annessa dal Ducato modenese e solo con la fine di questo stato e l’unità d’Italia si poté formare il Comune di Fosciandora.

Il Comune di Fosciandora si trova sulla sinistra del fiume Serchio nell´Appennino tosco-emiliano ed è uno dei 16 Comuni della Garfagnana. Le sue frazioni sono Fosciandora (il capoluogo), Ceserana, La Villa, Lupinaia, Migliano (dove si trova il Municipio, il plesso scolastico, l´ufficio postale, l´ambulatorio medico, la farmacia, un minimarket), Riana e Treppignana.
In località Ponte di Ceserana, che è considerata nucleo abitato di Ceserana, c´è la stazione ferroviaria e l´unico ristorante del Comune.

Nel suo territorio i reperti archeologici più antichi, rinvenuti in località Capanne delle Prade, risalgono al periodo etrusco. Le vestigia del passato sono presenti un po’ in tutti i paesi, ma particolarmente a Ceserana con la sua rocca e la chiesa di San Andrea, e a Lupinaia con parte delle mura castellane e due portali di accesso al castello (costruzioni del 1616) e la chiesa parrocchiale dei Santi Pietro e Paolo.

La chiesa di San Pietro a Lupinaia è nominata in un documento longobardo del 754, quella di Treppignana in uno del 757, quella di Migliano in uno dell’832, quella di Riana in uno dell´834 e quella di Ceserana nel Registro Lateranense del X secolo.

Di particolare importanza, nei pressi di Migliano, è il Santuario di Maria Santissima della Stella. Un primo riferimento a quest’Oratorio dedicato alla Madonna si trova in una Bolla di Alessandro III del´anno 1167. Ridotto a poco più di un rudere, in seguito al rinvenimento nel 1798 di un antico affresco della Madonna risalente ad alcuni secoli prima, l´avvocato Nicolao Raffaelli e la moglie Anna Venturelli, decisero di costruire in quel luogo una nuova chiesa che, inaugurata e benedetta nel 1827, chiamarono con l’antico nome di Madonna della Stella.

Nel corso dei secoli molti conflitti sconvolsero la valle della Garfagnana e perciò lo stesso territorio di Fosciandora. Fino al 1452 il territorio garfagnino fu teatro di scontri armati tra Lucchesi, Pisani, Fiorentini, Estensi. Da quell’anno e fino al 1844, la comunità fosciandorina restò divisa tra due Stati, quello Lucchese (Lupinaia, Riana e Treppignana) e quello Estense (tutte le altre frazioni). Da quel 1844 anche le “Tre Terre” lucchesi furono unite ai Domini Estensi.
L´attuale composizione del Comune di Fosciandora risale all´anno 1855, quando anche le tre frazioni lucchesi, che facevano parte della comunità di Gallicano, furono aggregate a quella fosciandorina, che dal 1859, con tutta la Garfagnana, fu unita alla provincia di Massa-Carrara. Solo nel 1923 la valle garfagnina fu unita alla provincia di Lucca.

La comunità di Fosciandora ha dato un suo contributo di sangue in quasi tutte le guerre della prima metà del XX secolo. Particolarmente alto, soprattutto di civili, fu quello durante il secondo conflitto mondiale, quando la Linea Gotica si attestò sui crinali di Lama a ridosso del paese di Treppignana. Come tante altre realtà italiane, anche questo Comune ha vissuto le vicissitudini dell’emigrazione. Fin dal 1959, con l’istituzione di una festa ad hoc, ogni estate viene rinnovato l’incontro con i ”Conterranei all’estero”.

L’etimologia di Lupinaia deriva da lupino ed aia. Il paese è molto antico, infatti la chiesa parrocchiale, intitolata a San Pietro, risalirebbe almeno all’anno 754, quano regnava re Astolfo dei Longobardi.
L’arcipretura di Lupinaia, che si pensa fondata nell’XI secolo, era matrice delle chiese di Riana e Treppignana e le spettava il diritto di nomina dei curati di quei due paesi, i quali dovevano assistere alla funzione del sabato santo per fornsirsi gli oli santi.
Nella frazione di Lupinaia, oltre alla chiesa parrocchiale e a quella della Madonna, vi è anche un piccolo oratorio eretto nel 1610 e dedicato alla Madonna delle Grazie, ma all’interno delle mura castellane sarebbe esistita ache una cappella, forse privata.

sagra dei cigerani a Migliano | usanze e sapori della terra natìa a Orzaglia | festa del vino a Riana

La prima domenica d’autunno (come clima e come intrattenimento) è andata tutto sommato bene, per le mamme e i papà che si sono goduti i dolci a base di farina di neccio e per i bambini che hanno potuto fare le loro richieste alla Befana in attesa dell’epifania.

Tempo permettendo, questo non è che il primo pomeriggio da passare in compagnia della Befana alla sua casina di Pegnana, dato che sono in programma altre iniziative, soprattutto quando le castagne saranno mature e quindi si potranno gustare trasformate in ottime mondine.

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Imagine a time some years from now. Where a green canopy covered the hillsides there are now bare trees, dying, many already dead, fallen and uprooted. Clouds of insects hum around them. There are no wild mushrooms, their habit beneath the trees has disappeared. Wild boar, goats, deer, squirrels, all the wildlife that once fed on chestnuts and prolific young shoots are starving now. In desperation they risk foraging closer to human habitation, looking for food. It is quite common to see wolves these days, searching further afield for their prey.

On the once beautiful hillsides there are now ugly graveyards between the acacia and the pines. Where trees no longer grip the earth with their roots the soil has been eroded by winter rains and there are many more landslides to contend with than there used to be. Tourism locally is drastically reduced, holiday homes stand empty, property is nigh on impossible to sell. Who would come to look at this landscape?

There is little chestnut timber for building, fuel or manufacturing, chestnuts haven’t been seen for some time now, and bee keeping has all but disappeared. Significant numbers of people have already left the area, searching for work. For those who remain their livelihoods are in crisis as the local economy shrinks. And as each month passes the cost of recovery for communities, wild life and the landscape increases, as does the time it would take. Chestnut forests need at least thirty years from re-planting to regenerate.

This may sound like a futuristic horror movie but without timely action it could be a possibility. Already there are large tracts of forest near Pistoia where bare trees surrounded by buzzing insects are a reality. It is impossible to think of anyone living here who would not be affected which is why it is important to know about the current problem facing chestnut forests and to understand the potential impact it would have on us all.

The problem begins with an insect from China called the gall wasp, or cynipide. The insect attacks young chestnut shoots, lays its eggs, and the tree reacts by creating a gall, or swelling around the infected area. During the winter the eggs continue to develop into larvae in the gall. Come the spring the larvae emerge as fully grown insects and set out to begin the cycle again. Females do not need males to reproduce and each can lay up to 150 eggs. Trees bear less fruit, their growth is stunted and they become prone to other diseases. After a few years of continual attack they eventually die. Infestation across an area is astonishingly swift, travelling outwards in all directions from the source the gall wasp can cover between 70 and 100 square kilometres a year.

So how did it get here? It seems gall wasps were unwittingly imported into Italy by nurseries buying Chinese saplings, unaware that they were carrying the insect dormant within them. Sales were promoted on the strength of the new variety bearing larger fruits than native species, therefore less nuts to the kilo and a better yield. Once planted, with the arrival of spring the insects emerged and rapidly became established. First recognised in 2002 the gall wasp is now present in every region of Italy and arrived in Tuscany in 2008. It is spreading throughout the Media Valley and the Garfagnana at an alarming rate.

So what can be done? Gall wasps were introduced accidentally into several other countries over the last century and it has been established that chemical intervention with pesticides is of no value. It does not effectively wipe out the gall wasp, colonies can recover and continue to spread. But it does destroy many other native species of insects that help to protect the chestnut trees from other pests, along with polluting land and water.

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Biological control is the only effective answer. There is another insect that originates in China called the torymus which is the natural enemy of the gall wasp, feeding exclusively on its larvae. After serious damage to Japanese chestnut forests, the torymus was introduced, limiting the development and spread of infestation by the gall wasp within four to five years. But it is not easy.

Whilst the gall wasp spreads across vast areas at speed the torymus takes a year to cover 1.5 square kilometres so like for like it cannot possibly keep up. Huge quantities of the insect are needed. It takes time to halt and reverse the failing health of trees and it is established that the gall wasp cannot be eradicated. But with a lot of will, work, and investment the balance of nature can be restored.

So what is being done? The first step was taken at the University of Turin, where Professor Alberto Alma developed a natural biofactory to breed the torymus on a large scale, and now many other Universities and organisations are doing the same, monitoring how the insect is adapting to local conditions. The University of Pisa is also researching indigenous species of insect to see if any have the capacity to fight the gall wasp effectively.

What is happening in our area? Various authorities are monitoring the spread of the insect and mapping it’s path. There has also been an experiment with the torymus this year and the insect has been launched in quantities sufficient to become established, so next spring, when the dormant gall wasp emerges, will be the test for this region to see how effective it has been. A breeding station has also been created in Camporgiano to produce more torymus. All good news.

However, those who own chestnut trees have been anxious to co-operate with the authorities monitoring the spread of the gall wasp and many have reported their sightings, only to find that largely they have been ignored and that the official mapping produced falls far short of the actual areas of infestation. Concerned campaigners are increasingly frustrated by the apathy of some local authorities who appear to know very little about the problem and remain unwilling to recognise that this is a serious threat to the whole community, not just to a handful of chestnut farmers and bee keepers.

In Emilia Romagna the authorities have created much greater awareness and collaboration by the wide circulation of an information sheet that anyone can fill in, recording when and where they have seen evidence of the gall wasp, and then fax it to an information collection centre. Monitoring has been accurate and many breeding stations of torymus have been established allowing timely launches of the insect.

Without doubt some are working conscientiously in Tuscany, but largely unknown due to the lack of recognition the problem has received. And local people are coming together to share concerns. In Montefegatesi Gruppo Lavoro Lotta al Cinipide had their first meeting last month. Their aim is to promote collaboration between local authorities and to come up with a joint action plan. They are calling for another breeding station for Torymus in the Media Valley , public meetings to promote greater understanding, organised pressure on central government for funding, and timely local action.

In June this year the Ministry of Agriculture Food and Forestry acknowledged that emergency measures were necessary and 1M Euros has been made available to establish breeding stations of torymus to those who submit projects, to continue research and to improve communication between national and local authorities. More funding has been promised. One launch of torymus insects alone costs 5000 Euros, countless launches are needed. Those who are first in line with their proposals will mop up the funds in no time at all.

One of the most significant barriers to action is that this is a time of national economic crisis and funds are stretched. Local as well as national authorities must be weary of entreaties for assistance from all quarters. But there is no escaping the reality that unless there is timely collaboration, action and funding the costs to support the communities who suffer from the full blown effects of the depletion of chestnut forests will be beyond comprehension.

To contact Gruppo Lavoro Lotto al Cinipide email pietromarri@libero.com

On a grey, drizzly day last week Marco’s chestnuts were ready for shelling. He is a traditionalist and produces farina di castagna, chestnut flour, as it has been done for generations. The middle of a row of barns to the left of my house is a metato, a chestnut drying barn, and the roof had been gently smoking ever since I arrived as it takes about twenty days to dry the nuts without roasting them. The doors were opened to reveal a small, bare barn with a rectangular shallow pit in the centre filled with the glowing embers of a wood fire. A second floor had been created out of thin lats of wood quite closely laid together but with just enough space for the heat to penetrate and now blackened and charred by years of use.

Going round to the back of the building there is another little door at first floor height and it is here that the chestnuts are loaded into the top floor and evenly spread to a depth of around half a metre. Back down below there are four chains suspended from the ceiling and once the fire is lit a large sheet of iron is hung from them in order to keep any flames that may leap up from scorching the nuts. The fire must be maintained continually but as gently as possible and the rising heat does the rest. Half way through the drying period Marco goes aloft with a spade and carefully turns the nuts so that they are evenly dried.

But now we were ready for action and friends had gathered to help, none of them young except for Marco’s son, Giorgio, who is fourteen and whose distant and detached demeanour was a clear sign he would rather have been on his pc. Sadly younger people are rarely interested in the traditional ways that are gradually disappearing, it involves a lot of time, hard work and patience and doesn’t make much money. But the rest of the group, men and women, were clearly seasoned old hands and everyone knew just what to do and when.

Large plastic sheets were stretched across the terrace from the wall of the barn to the fence on the other side, one on the ground and one above us so that work could continue without a sudden burst of rain wetting the nuts. The embers in the pit were shovelled out and the metal sheet was lowered to cover it so that the ground floor was level. Then one corner of the floor above was opened and chestnuts rained down in a steady stream. Some got to work shovelling them into large plastic buckets whilst outside the shelling machine was assembled.

This rattle trap dates back to the war years, Marco is very proud of it and it is an ingeniously simple affair in three parts that connect. Painted a bright blue, the base stands about shoulder high and has the vital shell grinding wheel within it and feeder below allowing the shelled nuts to fall out. A little kerosene fuelled engine sits a few feet away nailed to a wooden board and resting on heaps of sand to stop it shaking quite so much, and a long leather belt in a loop connects engine and machine. Finally a hopper like a large funnel sits on the top of the base ready to take the nuts.

Everyone pulled on a hat of some kind, buttoned up their jackets and with much lively chatter took up their post. I had gathered that once the process began it had to continue, the machine did not like to run without being fed. After a few tugs of the cord on the engine it sputtered into life and what a noise! As soon as it gathered momentum Marco raised aloft a bucket of chestnuts and poured them carefully into the hopper. A brown cloud billowed out from the front of the machine, a mix of shredded shells, slivers of the fibrous inner skin of the chestnut and the fine dust of each. Underneath the clean, ivory coloured nuts rattled down the feeder filling a large bucket in a couple of minutes.

The teamwork was seamless. Several continued in the barn filling buckets with nuts and passing them out to the machine for Marco to load. Another never lost sight of the bucket beneath the feeder, whipping it away once full, and replacing it with an empty one. The full buckets were poured into large sacks which Giorgio swung up onto his back, trudging away up to the house to put them safely inside.

The noise, dust and smell of kerosene were intense and a fawn coloured film built up on everyone and everything. Marco looked like a bandit with a green and white checked tea towel tied round his nose and mouth and it occurred to me that Health and Safety would have had a field day. Gradually the heap of shell fragments grew to some height and were shovelled into plastic buckets with a lid firmly in place so that next year they can be used to dampen the fire in the pit and keep it a constant glow instead of a blaze. Nothing is ever wasted.

It took about a couple of hours to complete, then many more to clean up, and now Marco and Simonetta are spending their Sunday and quite a few more evenings picking through each sack a handful at a time. The perfect whole nuts are bagged for sale as they are and the rest of the pieces have every little black bit that isn’t perfect removed, around twenty per cent, before they go to the mill for stone grinding into flour. This never happens in a commercial operation, the lot goes under the grinding wheel as it is, and for his traditional production methods and quality product Marco has a DOP marque and a list of people waiting for his flour which never sees a shop.

He always has so much going on, a full time job, bees in five different locations who currently need feeding through the winter months, sheep, a workshop he is creating in another barn so that he can grind his own flour here, clearing the woodland around us of too much undergrowth in order to keep the chestnut trees healthy, collecting firewood and binding it into bundles which are left to dry for a year, sawing logs… it never stops. But he is a contented man, living in harmony with nature and believing she provides all we need not just to sustain us but to keep us in tune with ourselves and our environment. This coming year will be just the experience I need to find out if can master even a little of how to live in a similar way.

Full article can be found here on the “A New Life in Tuscany” site written by Liz Taylor

chestnut paste is poured onto the plate

Necci – the simplest of ingredients …. sweet chestnut flour, water and salt mixed into a thick paste and cooked between two hot plates over a flame. Two metal plates, the testi or cotte, are oiled and heated and the chestnut paste is poured onto one of the plates, the other is placed over the top so that the necci can be cooked from both sides. A stick to press down on the top plate and in seconds you have one of the tastiest foods in this area.

Add some ricotta and you have quite simply the Food of Gods.

[View with PicLens]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AVUzPxe9Puw

Seemingly out of nowhere, without a huge amount of  organisation, wood for the fire was brought into the piazza. The heavy metal tray in which the fire was built was transported in by some of the Comune workers.

A sack containing 25 kg of the finest local chestnuts, was opened up and people of all ages sitting outside the bar started to prepare the chestnuts ready for roasting. Three long handled chestnut roasting pans were brought in by various people, the fire was lit and roasting started in earnest.

[View with PicLens]

Musicians arrived, instruments were brought into the piazza, flasks of red wine were handed round, and the festa was off and running.

Incredible how these things happen, as there is no publicity, no posters informing people as to time and date, nobody really is in charge of organising, but somehow, almost organically, these festas take off.

As darkness descended on the piazza, the chestnuts were replaced by a grill and the smell of fragrant sausages gently cooking filled the piazza.

Somebody appeared with a large plate of castagnaccio, a local sweet delicacy made from chestnut flour (a recipe for castagnaccio can be found in forum) , somebody else arrived with a freshly baked cake and of course the musicians played on (and they kept on playing … a six and a half hour musical marathon, in fact)

Only at 11 o’clock in the evening after the piazza was swept clean, the tables rearranged and the glasses taken inside did the participants of today’s social event reluctantly, very reluctantly finally relinquish the piazza.

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Necci – the simplest of ingredients …. sweet chestnut flour, water and salt mixed into a thick paste and cooked between two hot plates over a flame. Two metal plates, the testi or cotte, are oiled and heated and the chestnut paste is poured onto one of the plates, the other is placed over the top so that the necci can be cooked from both sides. A stick to press down on the top plate and in seconds you have one of the tastiest foods in this area. Add some ricotta and you have quite simply the Food of Gods.

[View with PicLens]

Roasting chestnuts in Pegnana during the autumn can be seen here