It may be gray and chilly outside but in my mind I’m sitting on a Tuscan hillside in the warm afternoon sun. The men are singing old Alpini songs and the women are fussing over the food. There’s a lazy German Sheppard asleep under the table ” guarding” the pasta fritte and cheese. There are fish cooking on an open flame. There’s a litter of kittens just old enough to cuddle. There are rolling hillsides as far as the eye can see. The food, the wine, the company-all perfection.
I fell in love that day, almost 5 years ago. Not with Italy itself, I was already in love with her. Not with the hubs’ family, I was already in love with them. Not with the food, I was DEFINITELY already in love with that. No, on that day I fell in love with something that transports me to that hillside every time. And that something is the spritz y’all.
I don’t know where the hell the Aperol Spritz has been my whole adult life, but now that I’ve found it, I can go right to Italy on a dreary Wednesday in January or any other day of the week for that matter. Now, if you’ve never had one, well, go make yourself one, I’ll wait. And also indulge me in my ode to this just perfect beverage.
The Aperol spritz or “es spritza” as it sounds in the old country is a cocktail with prosecco, Aperol, soda, and ice with an orange slice. And you serve it in a large wine glass. The big glass is key. If someone gives you a spritz in a flute, slap it right out their hand. Aperol is an orange liqueur. It’s bitter. But not as bitter as it’s cousin, Campari, which I also heart but not as much as it’s gorgeous orange cousin. The orange and the bubbles and the ice and the large glass and the just perfect flavor of Aperol…all of this perfectly captures what it feels like to be in the warm Italian sun. This drink doesn’t take itself too seriously. This drink knows that moments are fleeting and enjoying the now it important. This drink is Italy.
The day I first sipped this beautiful bev, we were on our second visit since my in-laws moved back. Our first visit was in December and it was quite cold and dreary and we stayed very close to home. This time, in August, we began to get our sea legs if you will. We rented a car, the hubs started settling into his Italian, we traveled a bit. We met new friends and family. And the best part was, everyone is on holiday in August so plenty of parties and reasons to celebrate. Bittersweet for me as well as this particular day fell on the anniversary of my father’s passing. A man who loved adventure and travel and would have been quite excited about our new opportunity to spend time on both sides of the Atlantic. So as I drove our rental Panda, following the hub’s aunt up an impossibly narrow and curvy mountain road, I drink in the Tuscan hillside and think to myself, isn’t life funny? Isn’t it lovely to find yourself in the most surprising of situations. We were welcomed into a big party of the hub’s extended family who were gathered to celebrate the hub’s sorta cousin and his girlfriend. We gathered at their family farm, perfectly perched on the hillside with views for days. There was even a grumpy old Italian nonna. It was like a scene from a movie. And then I was offered a cocktail…”woulda youa lika es spritza?” Though I had no clue what that was, I’m a “when in Rome” kinda gal so I said sure. And just like that, my life was changed.
That day I sat around a big table with these wonderful people who embraced me wholeheartedly even when I broke down during the fish course over the immense duality of this amazing day and this amazing grief. That day I embraced the unknown of life and where it takes you. That day I laughed and ate and cried and fell in love with a bitter orange drink that tastes so unfamiliar and yet made me feel right at home.
In the end, it’s obvi about the experience and memory than that delicious and gorgeous orange goodness, but damn, it is a fine beverage. Now, whenever I order this nectar of the gods, I make sure to be just as present in that moment as I was on that Tuscan hillside a few years ago.
I’ve had an “es spritza” from Milan to Jungfrau to Charleston. And I’m here to tell you nothing goes better with a spritz than spending time with the people you love.
Well, maybe that and a few snacks. Ciao y’all.
Ciao Y’all 