The Via Francigena
Back in the Middle Ages, the journey to Rome along the Via Francigena was one of three major pilgrimages (the other two being the Camino di Santiago and the pilgrimage to the Holy land). It is a route that ends at the tomb of Peter the Apostle in Rome and it is a journey that I travelled personally in 2000, cementing my love and cultural interest in fine wine and a lifelong passion for slow travel.
Beginning in Canterbury, England, it is a route that meanders through a storybook of landscapes and walking it in the present day gives perspective to myriad aspects of what has gone before. Observation of flora, fauna, art, architecture and folklore give meaningful narrative to the journey. When you pepper into your itinerary a serious emphasis on food and wine, respecting intricate historical details of regionality, the tapestry of your cultural understanding is ever more enriched.
Collections of flavours are a common thread from kitchens of the past to the modern table, they seem to linger through the generations, imprinting a memory of taste.
Here in Tuscany, the Via Francigena stretches for some 400 kilometres, winding its way from the outcrops of the Cisa Pass down to the undulating hills of the Val d’Orcia, passing through timeworn villages where many of the recipes have been passed down through the centuries. This is largely due to the bounty of vegetables, cereals and legumes found here – humble ingredients that have long nourished both peasants and pilgrims and still make up the backbone of the diet in this region.
One of the best loved of these historical dishes is Ribollita – the very definition of slow food as you begin by soaking the beans a day before, on day two you then use leftover bread and winter vegetables to add layers of flavour to your soup and then with a not insignificant dose of patience, the soup comes into its own when left for a further day when it is reheated to serve. When you travel the Francigena, you see that each village adds its own twist to a recipe such as this, cementing their cultural importance as well as flying the flag for local food heroes. And in each village of course, the crowning feature of Ribollita is their locally pressed extra virgin olive oil; the ingredient that elevates simplicity to symphony.
Recipes from mountain villages seemed particularly evocative to me when travelling the Tuscan Francigena. In the highland hamlets of Lunigiana, close to the border with Liguria, cooking often takes place in testi, terracotta pots that are placed directly in the fire, preserving age old recipes such as testaroli, a soft, crepe-like pasta made simply of flour, water and salt and traditionally served with a vibrant basil pesto or a more rugged garlic and nut sauce that speaks in both breadth and depth of mountain wisdom.
As you make such a journey, you appreciate the importance of word of mouth, the passing of messages, the transfer and exchange of ideas and thoughts. Nuanced recipes, adjusted to their specific place of origin and adapted to the seasonally available ingredients. Torta d’Erbi is one such delicacy; a simple pastry base packed with foraged greens that you never tire of because as you pass from one season to the next, the flavour adjusts with the availability of certain leaves. As you arrive from the hills to the beautiful town of Lucca, this pie seems to evolve into the Torta co’Becchi where you find new layers of interest including pinenuts, cinnamon and spice making it all together more fragrant and somehow festive, as well as affirming the status and wealth of the city’s inhabitants. As you head to the nearby coast of Camaiore, this evolves further to become Scarpaccia, where the foraged leaves are replaced with zucchini – legend has it that during the 14th century, when the warlord Castruccio Castracani faced starvation, he turned to the local farmers and all they could offer was flour, eggs and tender zucchini, ingredients that gave birth to this sustaining dish.
Taking an extended journey, ideally by foot, gives you a profound cultural insight. It gives you the opportunity to slow right down, to observe, to listen. And when we look in detail, we see that all is absolutely not lost. Many of the very best cultural references are preserved, we just have to open our mouths to try them.