I don’t know if I can remember it all. We started in Gradara at the castle, we went to Fossombrone and the market, umbrella-ed by trees on the banks of an emerald river, On Tuesday, Urbino and the ducal palace of Frederico, all the way to the top for cresce, piadine made with love and lard, on Wednesday to the gorge that cut between towering, majestic, silent only in speech, stone mountains. There was an orchestra of birdsong. We ate our picnic by the water and then walked through it as best we could, making every attempt not to be soaked higher than our thighs, but not entirely successful. When they are following their own course, water and love have no boundaries.
We piled back in the car to make pots on a wheel, with a pit stop for ice cream and handmade rings. Onto Terracruda, where we tasted wines in their winery overlooking paradise until the sun had nearly set. For dinner they drove us into the vineyards, strung with lights and we feasted on long boards of sliced salami and proscuitto, marinated eggplant and mushrooms, melon, fennel, grilled lamb and crostata covered in jam. On Thursday it was a drive to the beach in Fano and a wander on the “road of olive oil”, a fourth of July dinner at Julie,s in the garden, singing Happy Birthday to Quinn. I honestly can,t remember where we went on Friday, but I do remember that we at osso Bucco simmered in “olpe” of Terracruda with a caramel pana cotta for dessert. What a week.