Agriturismos are a unique way to experience hospitality on a local scale. An agriturismo is a working farm that often offers some rooms to rent and a dining option. When Lolly and I stayed in Piedmont, we were encouraged to dine at an agriturismo. It was a unique farm-to-table dining experience that we had never considered before. Having tried it and enjoyed it, we encourage other travelers to visit an agriturismo, too.
NOTE: This reflection is written by my husband and trusty travel partner, Pop.
Exploring Piedmont
The Piedmont region is quite hilly with its northern section ending at the foot of the Alps. France and Switzerland sit on the other side of the border. As we started to explore Piedmont we noticed on top of many/most sizable hills was a village, often walled. We quickly fell into the routine of exploring some of these towns. If we found a quaint restaurant along the way, we stopped for a glass of wine and maybe a bite to eat.
For Lolly and me, experiencing local culture is a key objective of our travels. Therefore, dinner each night plays an important role to meet this objective. Each day we asked our hosts where we should have dinner that night. One day they asked if we had ever experienced an “agriturismo”. “A what?” I asked. As mentioned before, an agriturismo is a farm that sometimes includes a B&B-like function, often serving some meals to the public. No, we had never experienced such a place. Our host reserved a table for two at a agriturismo whose Mama and her adult daughter cooks and serves. So off we went. We were ready to experience a unique Italian meal!
This was mid-June in northern Italy. As a result, the evening sun still shone bright enough to give us a great scenic drive past rolling hills and farmland. The restaurant was across the street from the neatly organized rows of vines.
A Delightful Farm Dinner
We walked over to what we estimated was the front door of the farmhouse and knocked. In a few moments, the door was answered by someone we soon discovered to be the daughter of Mama and Papa farmer. As she showed us to our table, we noticed that her English was quite good; this meant we’d understand each other pretty well during the evening. The table was neatly laid with a tablecloth and offered a panoramic view of recently tilled farmland across the road. A lone tractor worked its way through the rows of crops in the distance.
Papa’s Wine
The young lady described what they were serving that night (no real options … take it or leave it). This is Italy, so it all sounded great. Next came an important decision. She asked if we wanted a bottle of Barbera wines sourced from nearby vineyards or a carafe of Papa’s wine. No kidding. That’s how she described it. We instantly chose Papa’s wine. Lolly and I are pretty quick thinkers, so it quickly occurred to us that the lady making our dinner (Mama) was married to the creator of the offered carafe of wine (Papa). So, we simultaneously decided not to risk any kind of possible insult to the chef.
Well, the dinner was excellent, and Papa’s wine was actually very nice. As we started dessert, the farmer from out in the fields drove into the farmyard on his tractor. Turned out, that was Papa. About twenty minutes later, we were ready to leave. By now it was dusk. We paid our bill and communicated to Mama and her daughter that we thoroughly enjoyed dinner. As we walked through the farmyard toward our car, an older man came trotting out of the farmhouse. It was Papa!
When he came in from the field,, he heard that there were two Americans in the dining room. He was psyched. Apparently, they did not get many Americans visiting their agriturismo. Fueling his excitement was the fact that we choose his wine over that from professional vineyards.
A Shared Love of Wine
Now, Papa did not speak a word of English. And from what I assume was due to his excitement, he did not seem to have the patience to wait for his daughter’s rough translation. He made the normal international arm gestures to follow him. He proceeded to take us to the barn. Once inside he opened a door to a stairwell that pointed down. His daughter told us he was going to show us his wine-making facility. My family’s American origins are as farmers from the upper midwest, and Lolly and I have lived in states where agriculture plays an important role in the economy. With that background, I can count on one, maybe two hands, the number of barns I have experienced with “basements.”
Well, this basement was deep. We descended one series of well-worn stairs, took a right turn and then walked down another series of stairs. Before too long, we reached Papa’s wine-making inner sanctum which was spacious and well lit. Inside the old cinder block walls was the centerpiece: the two large stainless steel fermentation tanks: one for red, and the other for white. By way of his brand of physical gestures, he gave us a tour … it was like a mini-tour of a winery conducted by a mime. Since Lolly and I have enjoyed many winery tours in our day, we were able to catch on rather well.
Want a Bottle?
With the short subterranean tour completed, Papa gestured, asking if would we like to take home a bottle of his red? Sure!! Remember back in high school chemistry class those test tube drying racks? Well, Papa had one on steroids for recycled wine bottles. He went over to the rack, pulled off a bottle, aggressively blew into it (we assume to dislodge any residual particles from the previous owner), walked over to the “red” stainless steel tank and tapped-off a bottle for us (with a big smile on his face). He then proceeded over to his manual corking press and sealed the deal. Then he gestured: how about a bottle of white? Sure! Papa repeated the process and voila, we had our bottle of Papa’s white. We have treasured that experience and still have these two unopened bottles proudly displayed in our dining room wine rack.
With the tour and gifting complete, it was back up to the surface where hugs and handshakes were exchanged, then back to our hotel for a nightcap with our hosts, the owners, followed by a good night’s slumber.
Final Thoughts
A key lesson from this experience is to take advantage of opportunities to get up close and personal with local culture. People around the world seem to enjoy sharing insights into their own lives and and of their community to genuinely interested visitors. The result can be enriching perspectives and memories.
Comments?
Please share your travel experiences at an agriturismo or other local establishment. Where were you? What did you learn from the experience? What tips do you have for other travelers? 🙂
