The Lady in the Palazzo: An Umbrian Love Story
Language: English
Pages: 317
ISBN: 1565126106
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Marlena di Blasi seduced readers to fall in love with Venice, then Tuscany, with her popular and critically acclaimed books A Thousand Days in Venice and A Thousand Days in Tuscany. Now she takes readers on a journey into the heart of Orvieto, an ancient city in the less-trodden region of Umbria. Rich with history and a vivid sense of place, her tale is by turns romantic and sensual, joyous and celebratory, as she and her husband search for a home in this city on a hill—finding one that turns out to be the former ballroom of a dilapidated sixteenth-century palazzo. Along the way, de Blasi befriends an array of colorful characters, including cooks and counts and shepherds and a lone violinist, cooking her way into the hearts of her Umbrian neighbors. Brimming with life and kissed by romance, The Lady in the Palazzo perfectly captures the essence of a singular place and offers up a feast—and the recipes to prepare it!—for readers of all stripes.
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reduced to a landlady. La locandiera, she would call herself, adjusting her perfect hair, touching her only string of pearls. She took the best floor for herself, though. Your apartment. Did you know that it was once the ballroom? All two hundred eighty square meters of it was an open room. Think of the history waiting for you there.” Romanced by the stories, the first flush I’d felt for Via del Duomo 34 was piqued again. It would be a wonderful place to live in. “So what do you think?”
assumes the form of rhythmic chant thrown back and forth, the litany of a mass. “Buongiorno.” “Buongiorno, signori.” “Un caffè, per piacere.” “Eccolo.” “Buona sera.” “Buona sera, signori.” “Due prosecchi, per piacere.” “Ecco, due prosecchi.” Who are they, that perfectly “normal” man with that woman with all the hair, the one with le gonnone, the big skirts. Some already know who we are, from whence we came, the plans we’ve made, the agreements we’ve struck. They tell each other in
fun.” I speak in an animated rush, trying to settle his eyes on mine, but I can’t. Rather he looks above and to the left of me. Out the window and at the moon. “I suppose we could try it but why can’t you get your work done in the kitchen early in the morning, before she starts her cooking? If she doesn’t serve lunch, she probably doesn’t begin using the kitchen until noon or so. Maybe later. Did you explore that possibility with her?” What he doesn’t say is that he’s embarrassed that his wife
Mother to both of them. It’s the strangest thing.” Not so strange for a goddess, I think. She’s quiet but not at ease. She prepares herself to say more. “We knew that I was barren before we married, and Nilo seemed just fine with that. But he was thirty then, and by the time he was forty maybe some other sense of wanting to be a father, needing to have a child, maybe some other desire took on more light. Or maybe he just fell in love with her. Maybe it was as simple as that. Love is made like a
silence. One of them unfurls a parchment and shouts to the crowd: “Tomorrow shall honor the miracle of the blood, the miracle of Bolsena. Be ready, popolo, be ready, for the celebration is upon us. Sleep well and rise early to an exuberance of bells. Gather here in the piazza for the bishop’s blessing at seven after which the procession of the faithful shall begin. Be ready, popolo, the celebration is upon us.” The boys in black breeches begin the beating of their drums again, pounding rhythms
