It is pronounced nor' - cha.
Norcia is the pork capital of Italy - pig, and the cinghiale which live in the surrounding hills and mountains. Sausages, salamis, proscuitto, and all other preserved meats. In the world of supermarkets, we forget how important tasty preserved meats were in the old days.
The food in Norcia is so famous that buses bring Romans up for the day for lunch and food shopping. From what I saw, they surely sleep on the way back to Roma because these Italians are serious about food, wine, - and food volume. Vocal volume, also. (As our Chinese waitress in Bavegna noted, Italians don't talk - they shout. Really, not always.)
Beside meat, they have a specialty in the incredible wild (and wildly expensive) local Black Truffle - tartufo negro, the "diamond of the kitchen" - and Pecorino cheese too - one of the best hard cheeses in the world, made from sheep milk.
Americans tend not to enjoy eating the wild boar very much, but in Italy they do wonders with it. We need to learn from the Italians, since we have such a problem with them. (However, it is illegal to market wild game in the US.)
I enjoyed visiting this village in the mountains, in the Valnerina, very much. It's not a tourist town, it's more like a market town but some savvy tourists stop by to get the local flavor - and to eat some fine flavors.
The real reason we went there was because of Mrs. BD's link to the monks of Norcia, but there turned out to be many reasons to go there.
Italian courtship on church steps. After seeing this pic, Mrs. BD (half Italian) wondered what these gals would turn into over time, after they get the stereotypically easily-led Italian guys off the church steps and up to the altar.
Shops show off their photos of their cinghiale hunters, on the walls. Head shots, in both senses of the term:
More fun Norcia pics and comments below the fold -
To get to Norcia from the Abbazia, we had to drive up through Appennine mountain passes
A few tiny villages nestled in the mountains. Note the medieval fortified village perched above.
These are klicks, not miles, mind you -
Gate of Norcia. As in most old fortified towns, you park outside the gates unless you are a resident:
Main drag of Norcia, during the passagiata. Always priests hanging out in cafes. Everybody in town knows them, and vice versa.
We liked the display in front of one meat shop. That's lauro - True Bay - strewn around -
Funniest thing I saw in Italy - a little dog who walked up to sniff the butt of one of the plastic pigs.
The wolves in the mountains eat the piglets, and keep the boar numbers in check -
Typical shop. Note the "Mulo" - that is indeed Mule sausage, or maybe horse. We loved the cinghiale salami.
Got Prosciutto?
Another
Pecorino. The duro (note their nickname for it) is mainly for grating, the semi-duro for antipasto. No crackers for cheese - you eat it plain to fully appreciate it.
Guy slicing some Prosciutto. The jars are black truffles and truffle sauces. Amazingly pungent, earthy flavors.
Town square - the piazza, which I took to calling town pizzas - church of San Benedetto - St. Benedict. During Saturday afternoon, roving groups of amateur singers with guitars and accordions, drinking beer - roamed around the squares and streets singing what sounded like traditional Italian ballads. People joined in the singing, and danced. Kids too. Spontaneous - unplanned. Great fun.
Almost forgot - they sell tons of lentils too, those tiny Umbrian lentils, and dried beans of all sorts from barrels.
A regular butcher shop, fresh meat
We had to have lunch in Norcia. Stupid not to. Stumbled into a fine restaurant: Il Granaro di Monte:
Antipasto of Norcineria - assortment of Norcia meats, and Pecorino -
Il Primi - Stringozzi with black truffle sauce of course
Secondi - Veal strips, rare, with a wine/porcini mushroom sauce, and roast taters on the side. How bad is that? We shared each course, and they seem to accept that Americans do that sort of strange thing. I think they think Americans don't really like to eat. They cannot understand that we Americans love tasty Italian food, but in reasonable, modest amounts so as not to turn into middle-aged fat people.
I would gladly go back to Norcia, just for another lunch. It has a couple of hotels, including a Best Western!
After lunch, we wandered around for a few hours until Vespers with the monks. While Mrs. BD attended Vespers, I sat down for a beer and a caffe to watch the passing scenery, and met a young Dutchman who backpacks in Italy during every vacation. He took our picture in front of the church when Mrs. BD emerged, but, being a shy person, I am not going to post it.
My rather good post about our visit to Norcia showed a road sign to Cascia. We did not visit Cascia, but friendly folks at our Abbazia hotel later informed us that St. Rita is the saint of hopeless causes. I thought to myself, Hmmm. Maybe a saint for Ma
Tracked: Jun 18, 13:55