Suffusing My Senses In Siena

On most weekends, in fine weather, I enjoy a long walk along the cliff path in Onrus. I’m always touched by the names inscribed on plaques, carefully set into tiles dotted along the way. These tiles of remembrance are mostly dedicated to loved ones or pets. Sometimes it's just a poem or a favourite quote. I look out for the names and wonder whether they’re family names or favourite places. 

Halfway along my route, two plaques stand side by side: one dedicated to Siena, the other to Lucca. Beloved, they are. If I’d conceived a child on my trip to Italy, I would’ve been tempted by Alessandro or Milan, and yes, maybe Emilia. I’ve changed my mind after our day in Siena. It would be hard to resist. The little blighter would have an embroidered bib reading “Siena, made in Italy” too.

Back into the hire car we clambered, this time much more subdued; we couldn’t afford another accident. To make the most of your visit, consider exploring Siena early in the morning or late afternoon, when the city is less crowded. We parked our car on the outskirts of town, a common practice for visitors, and enjoyed a leisurely walk through the morning market until we first saw the Duomo! Oh my shattered heart, the sight! 

A step back into Medieval Tuscany. Siena, Italy's loveliest medieval city, and at first glance I could tell it was worth it. Jaw-dropping. Every shutter, window, trellis, door, and Ferri da Cavallo - the wrought-iron rings built into walls for tethering horses, holders for standards and torches which are placed higher on the façade and on the corners of the building, or arpioni, the cup-shaped hooks to support cloth for shade or to be dried, set near balconies - are works of art and worth preserving.

Here I must tell you a little about “sienna”, the colour: Sienna (from Italian: terra di Siena, "Siena earth") is an earth pigment containing iron and manganese oxides. In its natural state, it is yellow-brown, called raw sienna. When heated, it becomes reddish-brown and is called burnt sienna. It takes its name from the city-state of Siena, where it was produced during the Renaissance alongside ochre and umber. It was one of the earliest pigments humans used and appears in rock art. Since the Renaissance, it has been among the most widely used brown pigments by artists.

As I describe Siena's vibrant colours and architecture, I also want to hint at the delicious Tuscan cuisine awaiting visitors, sparking excitement and appetite.

Siena is built on seven hills, and most sightseeing is done in the warren of narrow cobbled streets and alleys all around the fan-shaped Piazza del Campo. Traipsing around Siena is never dull, as one must traverse these hills constantly, often finding oneself among the medieval houses and palazzi.

Walking into the Piazza del Campo feels like time travel; the clay arena, clam-shaped, is divided into the nine municipal cantons. Market stalls, restaurants, and stables still line the outer edge. Siena’s communal palace – the Palazzo Pubblico – stands guard. An air of antiquity lingers. Evidence also suggests it may have been an early Etruscan settlement.

The ghosts of charging horses and cheering citizens, or of being thrown into the lion’s den, hang in the air. Their spirits linger centuries later. The Palio di Siena, held twice a year, is a vibrant, centuries-old horse race that embodies Siena's fierce local pride. The sounds are deafening as the wave rolls around the stadium. It’s quite magnificent. Bleachers were being set up for the annual horse race on 2 July.

The race is a real anything-goes/no-rules event, with riders all bareback, each flying the colours and standard of their own ward with great pride and passion. Horses race three times around the hazardous piazza circuit, and the winner is the first horse across the line, whether the rider is still mounted or not. I include a short YouTube clip of the famous race.

Italians, as we know, have long memories, and vendettas dating back centuries still rage. Rumour has it that after much bloodshed, the two rivals, Siena and Florence, agreed to a peace pact: they would redefine their borders by sending two knights, one departing from Florence and the other from Siena. Both knights would leave the centre of their villages at sunrise, each with a rooster, one white, the other black.

When the first rooster crowed, the delegate would set off, and the official border would be set at the point where the knights met. While the Sienese chose a white rooster, believing it would crow earlier, the Florentines chose a black rooster.

Then, in a sneaky attempt to gain time, the Florentines took their rooster and locked it in a dark room without food for many days. On the big day, as soon as the hungry black rooster was set free - in the middle of the night - it crowed! So the Florentine knight could ride much farther than the knight from Siena and reached 12 km from the wall of Siena near Fonterutolli, in Castellina, which explains why the border between Siena and Florence is not exactly midway between the two cities. Nowadays, the road the knights travelled is known as the Chianti Classico Black Rooster road.

That’s not all. There is also the Romulus and Remus legend. I have vivid memories of my father telling me about Romulus and Remus, the twins raised by a she-wolf. According to medieval legend, Siena’s founder was Senio, Remus’s son, who fled Rome with his brother Aschio. They carried a carving of a she-wolf, which became Siena's symbol. Romulus’s knights followed the boys until they reached the hill known as Siena Vecchia, where, after a race known as “Palio alla Lunga”, Senio and Aschio founded the city – a good story. Tributes to Romulus and Remus can be seen all over Siena.

Soon, umbrellas came out, and the cobblestones grew slick as we carefully made our way around this exquisite city. I bought a lovely scarf to wrap myself in and enjoyed the balmy day, perfect for midday photography. We enjoyed a lovely lunch in a busy café off one of the piazzas, listening to the boisterous banter around us.

We succumbed to a wheel of Panpepato to bring home. Dolci Dell’antica Siena, a famous Sienese sweet delicacy made with fruits and nuts. Very similar to a Florentine, just thicker and larger, or a little like a Lebkuchen. Believed to date back to 13th-century Siena. Documents from 1205 show that panforte was paid to the monks and nuns of a local monastery as a tax or tithe due on the seventh of February.

Literally, panforte means "strong bread", a reference to its spicy flavour. The original name of panforte was “panpepato” (peppered bread), owing to the strong pepper used. References suggest the Crusaders carried panforte on their quests and used it to survive sieges. Bakeries and delicatessens selling Panpepato are suffused with the peppery, sweet smell of cinnamon, cloves and allspice. Comfort food at its best.

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For kicks, I include a classic recipe for Panpepato

PANPEPATO

Method

Preheat oven to 150°C. Lightly grease two large spring-form pans, line the bases with baking paper, then rice paper, trimming to fit.

Sift flour and cocoa into a bowl, add spices, orange and nuts and toss to coat well in the flour mixture.

Heat caster sugar, honey, and 15ml water in a saucepan over medium heat, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Do not stir again, as the mixture may crystallise.

Bring to the boil and cook until the mixture reaches 120C on a sugar thermometer (soft ball stage). Working quickly with a lightly oiled spoon, pour caramel over nut mixture, mixing well. Spoon into prepared pans and smooth tops with an oiled spatula. Bake for 10-15 minutes (time carefully, as this cake will not firm up or colour as it cooks). Cool completely in pans, turn out, and dust liberally with icing sugar.

NOTE: Panpepato will keep, wrapped in baking paper and then plastic wrap in an airtight container in a cool place, for up to 1 month. To present as a gift, wrap panpepato in baking paper before wrapping as desired. Serve cut into wedges.

Confectioner’s rice paper is available from speciality food stores.

To remove nut skins, roast nuts at 180C (8-10 minutes) until golden. Cool, then rub the skins off between the ends of a folded tea towel.

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Butch smiled from ear to ear when he was tapped on his shoulder by a chap, I think from Belgium, wearing his identical hat!  Bought in Thailand years ago, this unique, colourful, patchwork fabric hat, bought from a gypsy all the way from the Northern parts, has brought us much entertainment.  It’s a crowd stopper, and whenever Butch wears it, someone, normally from the fairer sex, is sure to stop him and ask about his headgear.  I couldn’t resist this lovely portrait of him and his kindred spirit. A broad smile is always hard to resist. I am sure thousands have been sold, but this is the first time we’ve come across a similar one on any of our travels.

The busy city and all the tourists tired us, and we were pleased to head back to our apartment in Greve for a little peace.  But not before we’d indulged in yet another delicious ice cream cone!  I could feel the pounds settling on my hips, but who cares; I would walk it all off by the time I reached our car on the outskirts of town. 

I loved this city with its wondrous architecture, statues and art, interesting boutiques, shops, greengrocers and galleries so steeped in history and tradition.  A must on any bucket list. 

P.S If I’d been there whilst on honeymoon all those donkey years ago, I might’ve been dragging a sullen Siena around with me!

The Madonna seems to say, "I lift my eyes to heaven; when will they replace this bulb?"  while she clutches her bodice anxiously.