Three Hundred Twenty-five Years of Flour

 

 

 

As you approach it, the place looks like a conventional Italian country house...one that's been renovated and added-on to over the years.

But what's inside is not at all conventional.

 

Running beneath the building shown above is this small stream.  This stream turns...as it has every year since 1696...millstones that grind faro (Italian wheat) into flour.

 

 

 

Unlike the old water-driven mills in the United States, the water wheel for this mill does not stand vertically, but lays on its side under the building.

 

 

There's plenty of evidence that this mill has been operating for a long time...

...from the stack of worn-out stones behind the mill...

...to the hundred year old (or more?) photo of the mill operating way back when.

 

 

 

 

Just as it did in the photo above, today the wheat drops down a chute to be crushed by the water-driven grindstone.

Then a Rube Goldberg device moves the rough ground flour into a machine as elegantly brilliant as it is simple...the buratto.

 

(By the way, the buratto was invented by...who else... Leonardo DiVinci.)

The burrato is nothing more than a series of sieves that separates the flour by grades...everything from Type 0 (used for pastry) to Type 2 (for bread) to Crusta (used for animal feed).

 

 

 

The differences are all pretty obvious.

Guiseppe Grifoni is the twelfth generation of family running the Molino Grifoni.

 

Grifoni flour gets shipped to panificii (bread bakeries) and pasticerie (pastry shops).

Every day, customers line up outside the mill for the chance to buy original stone-ground flour.

Even someone we know...

And as the old cliche goes, "The proof of the pudding..."

This blog post...and so much else...would not have been possible without our hosts Sergio Guerrini and his wife Lorella Vannucci.  Over four days, they showed us things in the Montemagnaio area that a tourist could never have found.

They were wonderful and gracious hosts, who shared their time and their home with us.  We are very fortunate to call them friends.

He May Be Old, But He Ain't Dead Yet

 As Roger's 75th birthday approached, he and Carol got a chance to forget about his impending old age by visiting two friends at their summer cottage in the mountains north of Arezzo.

 

We first met Sergio and Lorella Guerrini in 2014, when we wandered into Sergio's Firenze bike shop looking for a quick repair.  Over time, a friendship evolved and then grew.

The cottage is the place where Sergio was born and he and his 6 siblings grew up.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 The setting is a remote valley nestled in the hills of the Appenines.  To Roger, it looked like pretty rugged terrain.

He and Carol came because Sergio said the cycling was great...quiet roads, challenging climbs, and great views.

 

The nearest town, Montemignaio, is on a hilltop across the valley.

 

Sergio had contracted COVID last November and hadn't ridden much since.  This would be his chance to prove he'd recovered.

But alas, this weekend was not to be that chance.  A blood pressure problem sidelined him for a week, and Roger would have to ride his bike alone.

Now, given Roger's innate ability to get lost, coupled with unfamiliar roads and spotty cell phone reception, he decided to keep it simple...and given the intimidating terrain...short.

The ride started out easy enough...10 km downhill to the first major intersection, then take a left.  Then, a few hundred meters after the left turn...a sign:

 

 

Wait a minute!  Passo...a mountain pass?  

The pass was open (aperto)...does that mean it might be closed...by snow?

What was Roger getting himself into?

Then he recalled Sergio had said they had repaved much of the road in the Spring, because this pass was the featured climb of Stage 12 of this year's Giro d'Italia.

 

Here's the profile of the ride.  The climb is 13 km long with 687 meters of elevation gain (2,254 ft), with a 12% grade at it's steepest (just shy of a Cat 1 climb, in bike racing lingo).

It was a slog.  It took just short of an hour of steady, leg-piercing pain, punctuated by frequent outbursts of cursing, to make it to the top.  But then Roger realized (as the title of this blog post says), "I may be old, but I ain't dead yet."

The point of reaching the top of a mountain pass is you get to go down the other side.

After all that painful climbing, it felt good to let it out...

...until Roger almost t-boned one of these ladies.

She was standing right in the middle of the road, just around an almost-blind curve.  Roger slammed on the brakes and just managed to avoid hitting her head-on.  Not knowing how tempermental she might be, Roger inched around her...and very carefully pedaled the rest of the way back to Sergio and Lorella's cottage.

Important note:  Roger's whining about how difficult the climb is indicative of the fundamental difference between American and Italian cyclists.  As Roger gasped and cursed his way up the Passo dello Consuma, he crossed paths with a half dozen Italian cyclists who tootled along without even breathing hard.  This is consistent with his cycling experience in Pienza, where 85 year olds routinely blow by him on any climb...often while chatting on their cell phones.