To Die in Tuscany by David Wagner (novels for teenagers .txt) 📕

a white that was, and still is, mass produced. (The fish-shaped bottles of Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi are almost as distinctive as Chianti in the basket flasks.) The areas that produce the best verdicchio are found around the towns of Jesi and Matelica, and as with wine from any grape, its taste varies according to climate—how far up the mountain, how distant from the sea—as well as the composition of the soil, which in Le Marche is mostly limestone and clay. Curiously, the only time Rick and Betta have a white while in Urbino it is a Bianchello del Metauro, from grapes of the same name grown along the Metauro River. They apparently didn’t get the memo about verdicchio.

Regarding Le Marche reds, the game is dominated by one grape, montepulciano. Two of the best montepulciano reds, Rosso Cónero and Rosso Piceno, are enjoyed by Rick and Betta on the pages of this book. At the wine bar the last night, they also try a Focara Rosso that is made by a friend of the owner, which may indicate how obscure this wine is, even in Italy. Its main grape is sangiovese, with a bit of pinot nero.

That same sangiovese grape, along with other varieties, goes into the Cesanese di Olevano Romano that Piero orders at the lunch in Rome with Rick and Betta. It comes from the Castelli Romani, the hills southeast of Rome where Romans have been escaping summer heat for centuries. The area is best known for its whites, especially frascati, but some excellent reds like this one are produced there as well.

It will not surprise my regular readers that when Rick and Betta are in Urbino they manage to eat well and sample some of the local specialties. The sampling begins at their first lunch when DiMaio orders them olive ascolane and vincisgrassi, the latter being one of the more curious names for what is essentially lasagna. According to tradition, in this case true, it was named in honor of an Austrian military commander named Windischgratz (or Windisch Graetz), who was stationed in the area and fought against Napoleon. Most of my sources note that it is usually more rich than the lasagne from other regions, thanks to such ingredients as chicken livers or sweetbreads.

For their first dinner, the restaurant I had in mind when writing was Vecchio Urbino, where my wife and I had a memorable meal on our first trip to that city. All I have to do is mention the distinctive star-shaped light fixtures and she remembers it. At the meal in the book, all four diners have gnocchetti al ragu di cinghiale, small gnocchi tossed in a wild boar sauce. (Regular readers of Rick’s adventures will recall that I extol the taste of wild boar in the first book in the series, Cold Tuscan Stone.)

The place where Rick and Betta lunch with Loretta Tucci the next day is also a real place, out in the country between Monterchi and Sansepolcro. My wife and I had lunch at the Castello di Sorci years ago, on a Sunday, which meant it was packed with families, and children running loose everywhere. The fare was simple that day: generous antipasto platters and homemade pasta. That’s what I decided Rick and Betta should have for their lunch as well. Dinner back in Urbino that evening featured chicken breasts with one of the most famous local specialties, black truffles, something I had to include in at least one of their meals. I’m not a big fan of truffles—they’re just too overpowering a taste for me—but it is something everyone should try, especially if you are in Piedmont, the region of white truffles, in the fall.

The lunch spot the next day has a specialty of grilled meats, which reminds Rick of the churrascarias he went to when visiting his parents in Rio de Janeiro. (By an amazing coincidence, your author spent six years in Rio.) For the setting, I again had an actual restaurant in mind when writing, though not one located in Urbino or Brazil. Coccorone is found on a narrow street in Montefalco, a town southeast of Perugia. Because of its rustic atmosphere and grilled meats specialty, it seemed the perfect eatery to move temporarily to Urbino for Rick and Betta’s enjoyment. Be assured that I put it back in Montefalco, a beautiful hill town, right after describing the lunch in the book.

The last dinner in Urbino isn’t much of a dinner. Ironically, given the Spanish nationality of the book’s victim, the place they go to could almost be described as a tapas bar. Importantly, it gives Rick and Betta a chance to sample another famous local specialty, formaggio di fossa, which is described in some detail as they eat it. In addition, they once again have bruschetta with their wine. You just can’t have too much bruschetta.

The traditional Rome wrap-up lunch with Uncle Piero is set in a restaurant just off Via Veneto called Peppone. It was on our regular rotation of restaurants, and not just because it was conveniently located so close to our apartment that we could have thrown water balloons down on diners sitting at its sidewalk tables. (We never did.) One of its specialties, taglioline carciofi e mentuccia, was a favorite of mine, so I had Betta and Piero order it. Rick has one of those simple but hard-to-do-right dishes, spaghetti cacio e pepe, which is pasta tossed in tangy cheese with black pepper. The hard part is getting just the right amount of pasta water when you toss it with the cheese.

Author’s Note

Given Rick’s knack for turning up in wonderful Italian towns, it was inevitable that he would eventually find his way to Urbino. Located in Le Marche, one of the less traveled of Italy’s twenty regions, it is a true gem well worth the effort needed to reach it. The traveler must remember that if Urbino were located almost anywhere else in Italy, it would be overrun by tourists,