I love a nice drive in the countryside, which is why on this occasion I am feeling pretty perky. The wind is blowing through my hair, the convertible MG is roaring along the dusty country roads snaking its way up taking us higher and higher into the hills....Ok, I am fantasising now. Only about the wind in the hair and the convertible bit. The rest is absolutely true. If you must know, we are driving a Fiat Qubo, a strange looking vehicle that is shaped like a cube, which you may have already guessed, and runs on Metano (methane) which at 10 euros to fill up the tank allows for some long distance fun. And excursions up modestly sized mountains. On this occasion we are making our way to Sant' Angelo in Vado, somewhere I have only ever driven through on our way back from Tuscany. We have an excellent reason to grace this quaint little town with our presence; Il Piatto del Duca is in full swing and we want a taste of the action. Or lets just say that having a meal for 20 euros including wine at a top Michelin starred restaurant is a major factor in our decision process as to where we are going to eat tonight.
Il Piatto del Duca is a foodies dream. Ten restaurants in the Montefeltro area of Marche are in furious competition with each other to create a dish based on the renaissance kitchen. The dishes must contain lamb and spices such as cinnamon and ginger. Most of the restaurants are located in Urbino, Rafaello's birthplace, the hub of the renaissance movement. Punters eat like renaissance dukes for a mere 20 Euros, savouring aromatic lamb and whatever else the chef in question has conjured up for the professional jury who are ready to taste, and the popular jury, us mere mortals eagerly anticipating this gastronomic feast of the senses. The winner gets to host a huge Renaissance style banquet in the Palazzo Ducale – I wonder exactly what that involves apart from food, and a lot of it.
We pitch up in Sant' Angelo. It is a beautiful town, in keeping with the renaissance theme that is apparently going on at the moment. It is surrounded by a moat; something that never ceases to fascinate me. Moats are so romantic. It is obvious from the outset that this place is made of of one way streets and little alley ways. Cute, but now we have to find this restaurant. We stop outside a bar, and my boyfriend gets out to ask some guys who are having a drink and a chat about whatever it is they are talking about, how we might get to Taddeo e Federico.
Excuse me could you tell me where Taddeo e Federico is please?
'Eh?' they look bemused. Are you organising a rock night there? (Apparently my boyfriend looks too grungy and could not possibly be going to a better restaurant). All four of them chime in at the same time, telling him that this street is a one way street, and you can't turn into this one, and when you get to this point you must bla bla bla.' Wow, this place is miles away, and it sounds damn complicated. Needless to say, confusions reigns. It slowly dawns on us that things are much more complicated than they need to be, so the bf decides to take charge of the situation.
'Is it possible to walk to the restaurant from here?' (ha, gotcha! Try complicating this one!)
'Yes yes, go straight on, take a left past the statue of the pope, second right. It's just behind those buildings.' Is there a carpark near the restaurant, yes there is. Suddenly complex becomes ease.
'And how long is the walk? About 1 minute.'
Right. Well that's that sorted then – some people really do not appreciate the concept of a nice walk. It is not always necessary to be dropped on the doorstep. I like a nice walk, and this town is perfect for it. I love the old fashioned lamps that hang merrily from the buildings, think Paris, and London a long time ago.
Ten minutes later and we are warmly welcomed by the owner of Taddeo e Federico. And I don't notice any funny looks related to our current fashion faux pas. The grunge and tourist look is apparently accepted. Good. We are led into the dining area, which is done out very nicely, with attention to detail and a traditional twist. The jury are fully immersed in a lively conversation and greet us cordially as we enter the adjoining dining area. My attempt to sneak past unnoticed doesn't work and I am forced to gingerly acknowledge the smiling faces. Realising then that we have not interrupted them, the mild sensation of seclusion which consumes me on a regular basis dissolves.
We are led to our table and I take a seat. A wobble table, of all the tables in the restaurant, we had to get the wobbly table. Every time one of us places a limb on the table, it violently shakes. I start to get annoyed and get up to use the bathroom, in which I may find a piece of cardboard, or something. No such luck. I only spot cotton towels displayed very neatly for us bathroom users to dry our hands with. Can we also take them with us? This bathroom baffles me. I turn on the tap and it runs for ages, I am actually not sure if it will stop, and my frantic fiddling with the handle does nothing. I can't figure out where to put this damn towel. Perhaps I can just stuff it into my bag? I decide not to as I am overcome with a temperate feeling of paranoia – they might have cctv (the UK really has given me a complex about cctv). At this point the tap finally stops running, and I make my escape, leaving the towel on the side.
Back at the wobbly table which is no longer wobbly – I look down to inspect the offending table leg and identify a piece of cardboard. Excellent. Now I can relax, and the evening gets off to a start.
We are given a talk on the history and typical qualities of Renaissance food at which point I realise I don't have anything to scribble down notes. Typical. I am dressed like something out of the Timmy Mallett show (or even Timmy Mallett himself). What I do manage to pick up information wise is that dishes were based on four conditions concerning the human body – hot, cold, dry and humid. All these qualities needed to be conveyed in the competitors dishes.
We are given a bottle of wine with our meal, which we enthusiastically recognise as one of the Terra Cruda wines that we tasted at the Terra Cruda cantina, a Vettina which is one of the basic wines, which makes us feel extra knowledgeable, and me extra smug. Redemption feels so good. We are served up the following two dishes:
Soft juicy pear baked in the oven infused with red wine and cinnamon. Beautifully layered on top is cheese which has been drizzled in Sapa, a viscous sauce made by slow cooking the must of red and white grapes. It is slightly sour tasting with a caramel after taste and is a speciality in Marche. The pear melts on my tongue and I take small bites to make it last as long as possible. I am already in heaven, this dish is simply divine.
Next up is the Pappardelle and lamb. This dish takes me to the next level of nirvana. The pappardelle is home made using a mix of whole wheat and white flours, roughly ground. The cinnamon lamb and sauce sauce compliment each other perfectly. This dish is aromatic, perfectly balanced, and is simply delicious. I am already thinking about the next restaurant I can gatecrash. I'll make a real effort to look stylish this time. Because it won't be last minute.
The desert – oh yes – this was not listed on the menu arrives and my eyes are wide open (so is my mouth). I greedily follow the waiter with my eyes, or lets be more specific, the desert around the room until it finally reaches our table. We are all on the edge of temptation, we are refraining from eagerly tucking in while one of the judges gives us another talk about the desert. I don't even hear what she has to say as my main concern is watching the desert, and making sure it does not go missing. The desert is made with rice, grapes and walnuts and is some kind of tart. Fantastic with the passito that is poured into our glasses. Passito is a sweet wine wine, and this one is a Ben Rye from Pantelleria, Sicily.
Throughout the course of the evening a poet, who looks very retro cool, gets up, and reads passages from books that to me sound rather sexual. I happened to give my boyfriend a book for Valentines day called Sex and cooking, or Cooking and sex by AnnaMaria Tedesco – these Latinos may be dramatic, but they have an eye for the important things in life. Well, the poet didn't read any passages from the AnnaMaria Tedesco book, but certainly from other writes with sex & cooking on the brain. I suspect that the renaissance was all about food and sex. Salute.
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