Nearly raining

It,s nearly raining in Pereto. I have made a fire in the kitchen stove but I have the door wide open. It,s too beautiful outside to have a door between us. There are bright pink rose hips,dark red orange rose hips, golden yellow crab apples, school bus colored persimmon and bronze blood colored pomegranates hanging from bare branches in the garden, dripping with dew. My group has gone off on their tour of Montepluciano, Pienza and keeper of the Brunellos, Montalcino. I promised that I would roast pumpkins to stuff into ravioli for a ssge brown butter sauce that we could fill as soon as they parked their horse and walked in the door but I was thinking that even though there only a few who eat meat, I should make a teeny weeny bit of Osso Bucco as well. Except it must have been running through the dreams last night because by 10 this morning, there was no Osso Bucco to be had. I bought Bollito instead. I,ll simmer it with carrot, onion, fennel, celery and garlic cloves and serve it with an onion marmalade, olives, jeweled tomatoes and potted mushrooms.

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