Spring 2020

Spring is perhaps the most glorious time of year in Italy. The sun shines, plants bloom in sequence, beginning with the magnolias and then on to the wisteria. Later, the hydrangeas bud, blossoming as summer begins.

Magnolias in early bloom, just before the lockdown began, March 2020

Trees also bud and then begin to leaf. Wildflowers grow along stone walls throughout the countryside and Le Mura (Lucca’s historic walls) have their share of wildflowers as well. Flowers appear in window boxes and on terraces as people shop the traditional spring garden markets. Locals and visitors alike begin to revel in mild temperatures, enjoy walks along Le Mura, sip coffees at outdoor tables in pretty piazzas, make excursions to the countryside, and trips to those spring flower markets.

Buying flowers at the traditional Santa Zita Flower Market April 2019

At least, that is what spring is normally like here. This year, however, is anything but normal. I know it is spring because the calendar tells me the spring equinox has passed. And, in late March, Italy changed to daylight savings time. Easter has come and gone, though without the usual festivities. The days are longer and warmer. But, spending most of my time indoors, I find few visual clues to remind me that Mother Nature is shrugging off her winter sweaters for more colorful spring garb. It seems as though I am missing seeing spring unfold because of the quarantine restrictions. Judy, although she lives not far from me, is having a different experience both because of geography (she can see Lucca’s walls from her street) and because she has a dog and the rules here allow a bit more liberty for dog walking (see her post from last Monday for her perspective on spring). I am spending the lockdown in a relatively small (though lovely) apartment in the center of town (no views of the walls) and my outdoor walks until this week have been limited to the couple of streets around my apartment. For the most part I have only been able to imagine what is unfolding outside. Missing spring’s beauty hurts, but in light of the bigger tragedies unfolding around us it seems a small sacrifice.

A stone wall, somewhere in Tuscany, spring 2019

I do catch glimpses of spring as I walk to the market for groceries, across town to the cleaners, or around to my mailbox. And, I am lucky to have a view to a pretty courtyard and garden just across from my apartment.

Joanne feels lucky to see these pretty photinia bushes from her window.

More fortunate still are those who have a little garden space of their own, a huge bonus in a city like Lucca, especially during this quarantine. My friend Michael has such a garden and I am thankful that he shares photos of emerging bulbs and greening trees - it’s a sort of mental oasis! (Photos below by M. Boyd, used with permission).

So, to celebrate this unusual spring, I thought I would post some photos of springs past and present in and around Lucca. And - good news - as of May, because the lockdown has worked to decrease the spread of the virus, we are once again permitted to go for walks throughout Lucca. Today the walls will reopen. Joy! The wisteria may have faded, and we may all be wearing masks, but there is still a lot of spring to be enjoyed! -post by Joanne

Spring flowers in the Cinque Terre, spring 2018

Wildflowers along the fosso (canal) in Lucca, spring 2018

Watching Spring Arrive

Spring – that beautiful symbolic time of rebirth, light and growth – arrived just a week or so after Italy went into lockdown due to COVID-19. Being inside so much during this time has made some people feel as though they missed this glorious season that brings more color into our lives (Joanne will share her perspective on this next week). Lucky for me, my lovable Labrador has me outside at least three times a day (more when not in lockdown). We have not walked as far as we once did and we have not walked the variety of routes we did pre-lockdown but we have walked every day of lockdown. And, every day, we have seen spring ignoring the dark cloud of the virus and piano, piano as Italians say (slowly, slowly), showing up throughout Lucca.

Weed or wildflower? It doesn’t matter to me - it’s a spot of color and a sign of spring!

From the famed wall of Lucca, which we can’t walk on right now but we can look wistfully at, to neighborhood window boxes and even the brick walls of the fosso (canal) that runs through one end of the city, spring has infiltrated Lucca. You can see it best in photos taken at the beginning of lockdown and more recently.

March 13

March 30

April 8

April 14

The trees above line one section of Le Mura (the wall that encloses the historic center of Lucca). Barren in the waning days of winter, the growth over six weeks has been remarkable.

April 21

April 22 A.M.

April 22 P.M.

April 23

Some growth has occurred more quickly. This rose bush, for example, graces the end of the street on which I live. In just three days, we saw it turn from wound-tight bud to elegant openness. We’re awaiting the opening of the bush’s other buds.

March 14

April 23

The rose bush that grows beneath this statue had a lone flower at the end of winter (notice the stark trees on the wall behind it) and now is full of pale pink life.

Wildflowers grow out of the bricks in the fosso walls of Lucca.

These signs of spring have not only made my dog walks more interesting but they also have reminded me that as much as the virus is changing all our lives, there is some certainty still to be found. Spring is spring and that is a beautiful thing.   -post by Judy

Today I Walked to the Mailbox: Quarantine Day 3,427

Okay - so I exaggerate just a bit.  It isn’t really day 3,427 of the quarantine lockdown here in Lucca.  But some days it sure feels as though it is.  

The days take on a sameness, which feels a bit like living in the film “Groundhog Day” (and who would have thought that possible at the beginning of my exciting Italian adventure?). It feels especially long because the tentative end date has just been pushed out again, this time from April 15 to the new tentative date of May 3. There is logic to this new date - the curve of disease cases has flattened but not quite enough to return to normal and there is fear that the April holidays will encourage too many big gatherings. These April events include Easter and the day after, which is also a national holiday, the Sunday after Easter when the celebration of Lucca’s liberation from Pisa takes place with all of its Medieval pageantry, Liberation Day on the 25th, marking the end of Nazi occupation in Italy, and right on to the first of May, which is another national holiday.  So, waiting until May 3 to begin to loosen the restrictions makes sense.   

Last year crowds gathered to celebrate the liberation of Lucca from Pisa in the 1300s. No such gatherings will take place this year.

The people I know are mostly in good spirits here and have taken to heart the two Italian sayings: Io Resto a Casa (I Stay at Home) and Andrà Tutto Bene (It Will All be OK). And yet, we are getting restless with days that center around mundane tasks masquerading as big outings - taking the trash out, going to the laundromat, grocery shopping. Worse, the days seem to go from “what can I have for breakfast” to “is it time for a coffee” to “oh good, it’s time for lunch” to “hey, is it too early for a cocktail” to “what’s for dinner” and, worst of all to “oh my gosh I’m out of cookies.”  This focus on food (a natural side effect of combined anxiety, sadness, and inability to leave the house I’m told) is worse due to our marked decrease in outdoor activity and exercise. One can only walk circles in the house and hoist cans of tomatoes as ersatz weights so many times a day. We live in fear of gaining the Covid 15 (or should that be the Covid 19?).

A pretty terrace above old brick walls, out by my mailbox

Today, because I’m expecting a package, I made an excursion to my mailbox. There are two ways for me to get to the mailbox. I can go through the lobby of my building, down a hallway, out the room where the bikes are stored and then out the portone (big door) to the back of the building where the boxes are. This requires three door keys and a flashlight for the dark part of a hallway.  Or, I can go out my front door, walk half a block down my pretty street, turn up a tiny covered alley (top photo), and through a pretty outdoor space to the back of my building. Option 2 is much more inviting!    

The outdoor space behind my building is a hidden gem. It isn’t an official piazza and it has neither a name nor a designation on my map. But, like so many hidden corners here in Lucca, it is a fascinating and charming space. 

Quintessentially Lucca, the small courtyard behind my building

There are balconies and large terraces to be seen, beautiful brick work, pretty and neatly tended front doors, graceful street lights, and mysterious old wooden doors. 

What’s behind these old doors ? I keep thinking it would be a good spot for a table, some chairs, and an outdoor reading space. I don’t think my condo association would go for that idea though.

I enter through the small alley with an arched roof, at the other end of the space and just around a bend is the back of a little church (now used as an exhibit gallery). 

Santa Giulia Church, from the back. This church sits across from the Boccherini Institute and is now used as an exhibit space.

Take a few steps further (permitted if I’m heading to the grocery story after checking the mail) and you get to two of my favorite views in Lucca - the Piazza Suffragio in front of the Boccherini institute to the right and the Vicolo dell’Altopascio to the left.  All this just steps from my apartment’s mailbox.  

Vicolo dell”Altopascio

I might still be in lockdown here, but most days I’ll make at least one trip out to check my mail. With scenes like this, the quarantine is a bit less difficult.

Wherever you are during this challenging time, I hope you are safe and hopeful. And I would love to see you here in Italy when the day comes that we can all travel once again. -post by Joanne

Looking down onto the Piazza Suffragio in front of the Boccherini Institue

Signs of Hope

By now, no matter where you are in the world, you no doubt have felt the effects of COVID-19. My beloved Italy, the country I chose to live in for its beauty, music, history, art, culture, food and people, has been among the hardest hit. The sadness of losing so many people to the virus is palpable – even though we are still separated by “lockdown” regulations and I only see other people when I go to buy groceries, take out the trash or walk the dog.

Italy has also led the way in displaying resilience – think of all the videos you have seen online of Italians gathering individually on their balconies at a certain time of day to sing together. People started showing solidarity here in other ways soon after lockdown began: Children drew pictures of colorful rainbows with the words “Andra’ tutto bene” (everything will be fine) that were hung from windows. Italian flags started popping up in windows as well. Because I need to walk Bodhi, I have been outside more than many people – for very short walks. During these, I have snapped a few photos of these signs of courage and hope. Wherever you are, I hope they help you feel the optimism I feel when I see them. -post by Judy

Quarantine Cuisine: A Rustic Potato Leek Soup

I didn’t think it would last this long. Two weeks, three at the most, and we’d see the number of new infections and deaths drop in Italy. I was overconfident. Three weeks into our “lockdown” in Tuscany (I’m writing this on March 28), we are (grazie Dio!) seeing the rates begins to come down, but slowly, slowly.  And so we remain safely tucked into our Italian homes, venturing out only for essentials (food, medicine, trash disposal). 

I will be honest - I have good days and more difficult ones. The vibrant social life in Lucca is part of why I love living here and I miss being able to meet for a coffee or an aperitivo. I miss seeing spring unfold around me. I miss people here and my family back home. I sometimes give in to worry or fear. But I have more good days than bad. And I remain hopeful and aware that even in the midst of all of this I have much to be thankful for - a healthy family, good friends, abundant food, music, and the kindness of people, both Italian and ex-pats from around the globe. And church bells - every day I hear church bells ringing. It’s a hopeful sound.

Spring begins along Lucca’s walls - I know it is out there, but I can’t get out and enjoy it right now (photo from 2019).

Cooking Is a form of therapy for me. The movements used in slicing, dicing, mixing, stirring, kneading, seasoning, and tasting are a kind of meditation, a way of centering myself. Preparing food gives purpose.  Even better to cook with some music on in the background. And so, it is no surprise that my kitchen is seeing a lot of action these days. 

Leeks, thinly sliced and ready to sauté, are the base for a lovely potato leek soup.

Yesterday I received two bags of groceries from friends who were heading back to their home in Canada to ride out the virus. 

They rang the doorbell, put the bags inside the entry, and never got closer than 6 feet away. It felt sad not to be able to give them a goodbye hug but the physical distancing is key and we followed the rules. In the bags were staples (pasta, wine) and some fresh veggies that would need to be used the next day - a big bunch of leeks and a bag of potatoes among them.

It was a no-brainer that a pot of potato leek soup would be on the menu.

Classic potato leek soups are puréed to a smooth and creamy consistency. They can be served cold (think French vichyssoise) or hot. Either way they are delicious. I actually prefer my soups a bit more chunky than puréed. So, with that in mind, it seemed a good time to experiment with a more rustic version of potato leek soup in which the potatoes were left unpeeled and a bit of carrot added color.  I also substituted whole milk (which I had on hand) for cream (in these days of quarantine we don’t make trips to the grocery store just for a bit of cream). For seasoning I went with thyme, salt, and pepper, which are used in the classic recipe, and added just a dash of nutmeg. Instead of making the soup into a purée, about half of the cooked potatoes were mashed to add thickness, but the rest of the soup stayed chunky.  The result was delicious - not bad for quarantine cooking using what was on hand!

Rustic Potato Leek Soup

In Italy the catch phrase is io resto a casa ( I stay at home). I hope you too are safely at home and taking all necessary precautions wherever you are. And I hope you are still planning your next trip to Italy. 

Rustic Potato Leek Soup Recipe

3 leeks, white & light green portions only, sliced lengthwise, rinsed, sliced thin (about 4 cups)

90 grams of butter. (3 oz)

2 carrots, diced small (about 1 cup)

750 grams of small white potatoes, unpeeled, cut into medium size cubes  (about 1.5 pounds)

3.5  cups chicken broth (increase to 4 cups if you like a thinner soup)

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1 tsp salt

1/8 tsp finely ground black pepper

Dash of ground nutmeg

2/3 cup whole milk or cream (let’s be honest - cream is better!)

Sauté sliced leeks in butter until limp, about 8 minutes. Add diced carrots and sauté for another 4-5 minutes.

Add chicken broth, cubed potatoes, and spices.

Cook about 20 minutes or until potatoes are soft

Add cream or milk

Depending on the consistency you like, leave soup as is, take half the potatoes out and mash them before returning to the pot, or use an immersion blender to make a less chunky soup.   Buon appetito! -post by Joanne