14 Dec We got it!
It was the night before our departure for Rome and there were two things on our minds:
1. We’re going to sorely miss our Sant’Andrea family. The took such great care of us, and we shared many laughs. It was heartbreaking to know we wouldn’t be able to see them often. It seemed as if we had never been apart at all.
2. If in fact we do get the cheese, will U.S. Customs allow us into the country? Some had warned us that cheese was among the unwelcome items from abroad.
We prepared for the worst.
Remembering what Uncle Al said about his ruined luggage the last time a packaged the pecorino for Poppy, Uncle Bru set aside a whole bag for the cheese. He planned to pack each one twice before even allowing a chunk into his bag.
This process, we thought, would both save his bag and reduce the odor. Maybe, just maybe, the Customs gods would shine brightly on us.
The Soverato Market, open each Friday, has just about every fresh food available — from produce, to meat, to fish, to beans. And yes, cheese, too.
Take a look
But we were here for one reason and one reason only: THE cheese. And not 50 feet from the entrance, there he was — Mimo Pirritano and his truck-full of stuff.
I was overjoyed. I hadn’t planned on it, but I got a half-chunk. Angela had to get a taste. (Thank you, Uncle Bruno.) I was almost surprised that Mimo, whose family has been goat herders for hundreds of years, sold more than pecorino. He mozzarella, ricotta, privola, mixed cheese, you name it. I was also expecting an older guy who was weathered by time and the elements. Yet Mimo was a modern entrepreneur who happened to sell cheese.
Sadly, we also had to say good-bye to Nino. He was an adventure, and as much as I kid, I am deeply appreciative of his time and effort.
We said good-bye and he said good-bye.
Or at least I think that’s what he said.
Next: The cheese saga finale.