Nanna Francesca and ‘posse’ outside the Fossa house in 1975 (including Pierina, far left, Nonno Anni’s cousin, born the same year he was, who lived in his family’s house after they’d migrated to Australia).
As I got older, I learnt how it felt to be the younger woman, standing amid the older women but just that little bit behind, waiting for your turn to step forward. The same way, as you sat together in conversation, the older women’s talk would dominate – topics hurtling from food to people to unfamiliar happenings and I’d be grasping to hold on as we were whisked away into another story.
There were times I’d get restless and think I’d much rather be off somewhere else, or seeing what Nonno Anni and ‘the men’ were up to, but Nanna Francesca would weld me with her eyes to stay put and for that I’m grateful now. It was then that I learnt to listen, sitting quietly, and now I realise the value of basking in the company of older women who’ve seen much, dealt with much and have so much precious experience to impart – as well as perhaps that ciambella cake recipe. 😘✨💛
It’s pretty quiet here at present while I work on the next book, so here’s a look back to Italy when I was in Abruzzo and wrote Mezza Italiana. The day I hung the freshly-washed sheets out on the old pulley clothesline at the house in Fossa. It’s such an iconic image in Italy, a busty woman suspended half out a window, hanging her sheets on these pulley lines. However, any romantic notions were quickly quashed!
Mending… so out comes the sewing box Nanna Francesca gave me for my 8th birthday. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to receive this as a present at that age, though I put on a happy face so not to hurt her feelings. Afterwards, I told Mum she could have it and the sewing box sat in her linen press for years. Yet, once I moved into my own house, I went and retrieved it and it has stayed with me.
The Italian saying, ‘Prendere due piccioni con una fava’ – catch two pigeons with one fava bean – sounds slightly kinder than ‘kill two birds with one stone’ but its meaning, ‘achieve two aims at once’ is the same. It’s fave (broad bean) time again here and they’re particularly fresh, sweet and earthy tasting at present.
Still, it’s lovely to look back, especially to see Nanna Francesca and Nonno Anni next to me on the front steps the day I arrived as well as beautiful Fossa when there was no hint of the earthquake to come more than a decade later. And I still can’t get over the rich blueness of the sky some days up there in the Apennine Mountains! No filters or tricks on these photos, just nature at its most exquisite. Thank you for taking the Mezza Italiana journey with me and for sharing your stories too. Grazie infinite cari amici! Zoe xx
Walking around Fossa, along lanes that become so steep and narrow they merge into steps or descend into tunnels, I began to notice all the different doors I passed. Some with stylised, door furniture of lion heads or dragons and beautifully varnished wood, others crude, weathered timber, or painted mission brown.
I took this from the tiny balcony of the house in Fossa. As Roger walked along the laneway below on his way to the Boccabella shop and passed someone on their phone, he had no idea I was taking a photograph from above.
Fossa house, Abruzzo, a decade ago… pecorino cheese made by two women on a farm down in the valley, olives from the L’Aquila market, cerasuolo wine from a nearby vineyard, the paisley tablecloth Nanna Francesca purchased from a travelling merchant who drove from village to village in his small truck full of wares, an Italian folk song blaring from speakers to notify buyers he had arrived.
Zoë Boccabella 