Just last week we drove up in Umbria (from Rome) to warm up our little home, to check mail, and to see our newly installed chandelier. We couldn’t be happier…or more grateful for how we received such a magnificent addition to our home. At the heart of this chandelier’s journey to a new home is a story of Italian generosity and hospitality.
We met Marcello and Romana almost two years ago at the home of one of our neighbors in Umbria. Their warmth and easy laughter helped us feel welcomed into our quaint locale. We saw each other many other times at meals with friends, and at local events, each time vowing to make lunch plans at their home soon. Conflicting schedules (mainly due to our busy travel schedule) made it seem like it would never happen. But, in late October we called, and Marcello and Romana invited us to a Sunday lunch at the family villa about twenty minutes away.
It was Sunday,”Il giorni dei morti” – the day of the dead, which is the day after “Tutti i santi” – All Saints. Halloween had been Friday yet the most evidence I’d seen of Halloween in Italy were a few pumpkins sitting about (no carved Jack ‘O Lanterns), and a couple of decorative witches. No trick or treating here. If you dressed up in a costume and headed around the neighborhood to knock on doors and get candy, you’d probably give someone a major freakout and you’d end up getting shot instead (October IS, after all, the beginning of hunting season here in Umbria).
Our Sunday lunch with Marcello and Romana (and with our good friends and neighboors who had introduced us) was a 4 1/2 hours affair. We had been gifted with a day of brilliant colors, light that presented everything in amazing clarity, and unusually warm temps. Their home is a magnificent 9,000 square foot abode, with origins in the late 1200’s. It is lovingly and painstakingly restored. Frankly, I don’t know how Marcello and Romana keep the house so immaculate, and how they also work the land – which is also substantial.
When first we entered the house into the great room, where we were to have our long, leisurely lunch, I knew we were in for a special experience. A robust fire drew us into the the room, and I soon noticed a spit of sausages cooking in front of the fire. Romana emerged from the kitchen, where she had been hard at work, and we exchanged greetings and kisses. Then, Marcello took us for a tour of the property and the house. The house kept unfolding and unfolding, like Russian nesting dolls. Every room was unique, and the artistry of lamps, doors, tables, etc. was inspiring. I would need a map, or GPS to find my way through this house again without getting lost. There were seventeen bedrooms alone, and at least ten bathrooms. Geez.
We returned to the great room for lunch, and after the hour-long tour, I was famished. One of the many things I have come to love about life here in Italy is the communion that is inherent in having meals together. This is certainly not a news flash to anyone who has experienced life in Italy, or a Thanksgiving or Christmas “Italian style” in the U.S. But, I feel compelled to extol the benefits of such a way of life and a way of slowing down (no checking emails or texting at the table) to be present. I, in particular, have not always exhibited such appreciation and respect for being present. This was a good lesson for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t not have been truly present for great generosity and warmth.
Our meal, which was served alongside loads of hearty conversation and laughter was:
Verdure fritte (sage, onions, cauliflowers)
Pepperoni ripieni (green peppers stuffed with meat)
Zuppa di zucca (pumpkin soup)
Salsiccia arrosto e tacchino fritto (roasted sausages and fried turkey breast)
Torta di noci e ananas (nut and pineapple cake).
Castagne arrosto e novello falo vino (roasted chestnuts and new wine from Lungarotti – an essential pairing).
You’re probably wondering, by now, where the hell is the chandelier in this story. Well, at this point it makes its entrance…
We were wrapping up our amazing lunch, and I was leaning back in my chair while letting my gaze move around and take in everything in the great room. I saw a fairly sizable chandelier, and remarked at how beautiful it was. Marcello smiled and asked me if I wanted it. I was embarrassed, and my partner quickly tried to back pedal on my behalf. But, Marcello, wanted us to have the chandelier. He insisted. And, I said “Grazie, sei troppo gentile!” – Thank you, you are too kind!
So ended our afternoon together, and our conversation in the car on the way home centered around when the chandelier would show up at our house. “Probably sometime much later.” we concluded.
Yet, a week later, we received a call from our neighbor Anna, telling us Marcello was arriving shortly with the chandelier in tow. He arrived, smiling profusely, and he and Anna’s husband carried the fixture into its new home. Soon our modern Ikea light would come down and be replaced with a light with great character and history. For our eclectic mix of old and new, this would be perfect. And, now that we have seen it installed, it is indeed perfect for us.
Just think…this chandelier’s journey to a new home began during a warm, wonderful gathering of friends in the Umbrian countryside. I continue to be blessed in new and unimagined ways.