Nearly Choking to Death on Pistacchio Cream in Siena (27/03/2023)

To Siena, then, to continue our guests’ intial foray into Italy. I prefer Siena to Florence, but acknowledge that I have not explored it fully enough. We frequently end up doing the same cycle when we visit: same car park, up tons of escalators to the Basilica di San Francesco, a game of spot-the-peek-a-boobies, circular or back-and-forth around the shopping streets until we hit the Piazza del Campo, a trip around the Cathedral square, a spot of lunch, gelato and maybe on the way back stop in Cannoleria Ke Cassata to grab some arancine for a light evening snack.

We pretty much did that, but skipped Ke Cassata this time around – they may have been closed, or moved to their main shop indicated by the link above (do try them if you’re in the mood for a snack, though).

We had to get there first, and so we stopped off to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at the amazing countryside surrounding Staccioli’s ‘O’, just outside the town.

We didn’t walk down to the sculpture itself, because we made that mistake already in wettish weather in April 2019. Now, I know it doesn’t look wet in the above picture, but the above soil is super-loose, potentially damp (yes, it rains seasonally in Tuscany!) and you stand a chance of destroying your footwear. If you really want to ‘gram the ‘O’, do call later in the year, when the soil is far dryer. If you’re visiting before May, then you can still park near it as we did and admire the incredible views.

Anyhoo, we got to Siena, and once up and past the Basilica, we started shopping for a handbag. I can’t remember the specific brand, but I remember it being important to the ladies. We popped into one bag shop, had a quick look-about and asked the owner if he knew of a place which sold <BAG-BRAND>. He said he didn’t, so our long search came to an end. Instead, we spent 30 or so minutes in a make-up store. I can’t say I was in my element, but was happy that the ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Once done, and with a growing sense of pride, we led the guests to the Piazza del Campo, all ready to show them what, in my opinion, is Italy’s greatest square. Others think of St. Peter’s in Rome or St. Mark’s in Venice, but they were designed to make you feel small and insignificant – Piazza del Campo is more secular, warm and welcoming. ”So, here we go! Ta-daaaaah…. uhh…?” Except that today, the lighting was flat for that little while we were there, and the place looked like a building site. Shit.

Ugh. You did me dirty, Siena. Can I ever forgive you?

Lunch was next on the cards, and we knew of a place at the bottom of the hill down from Siena’s Cathedral – past the catacombs. We brought the ladies to the main Cathedral square, so they could have a look at its incredible facade.

At last they were suitably impressed. We were just giving them a taster of the town, so we didn’t go inside – but in the square you can go to the ticket office to buy tickets for the catacombs and to enable you to explore the roof – definitely worth a bash if you’re in town and have some spare time. Anyway, we hunted for the restaurant, and for the life of us couldn’t find it. We instead found a place (Ristorante Osteria Bonelli). There were a couple of other groups in, so the service was a little… weird… at times – I think we had to change one of the plates. In fairness, it might have been one of the first days of the season for them. Some of the food was nice enough, though.

We successfully negotiated our payment, as a large gaggle of students kindly stepped aside to let us go first. Each one was only paying for their own food, so I’m glad we dodged that.

We decided to head back to the car, but taking a slow route. We passed by one of the steep and stepped lanes to the Piazza del Campo, and I cast a wary glance at it, having already considered it a bit of a traitor this visit. And I gasped. And took one of the best photos I’ve ever taken. Lookit! It’s like a Canaletto painting!

All was well with the world once more, until the guests spotted Siena’s branch of Nino and Friends, which is a confectioner with branches scattered throughout the regions of Tuscany and Campania – with stores also in Venice and Taormina (Sicily). They’re are instantly recognisable, with their chocolate ‘waterfalls’ in the shop windows. Now, I don’t have a general problem with Nino and Friends. Their products are good, and you’ll have a fun time with the salespeople there, most of whom, I am convinced, popped out of the womb being able to smooth-talk the Inuit into buying ice. Anyway, our interaction went something like follows (I have taken some artistic license – also, apologies – I have no idea this will read on a mobile phone!):

I ALMOST DIED, a drama

Cast of Characters
HAPLESS IDIOT: An overweight middle-aged man, with pattern baldness, Irish
WIFE: HAPLESS IDIOT’s long-suffering wife, Irish
FRIEND: A friend of WIFE for many years. Irish, but having lived in Scotland for many years
TEENAGER: The daughter of FRIEND, current champion of the universe in 8-ball pool on the XBox, very definitely Scottish
SALESMAN: The salesman in a confectioner’s shop, very definitely Italian

EXT. STREET IN SIENA, TUSCANY – DAY
It’s bustling in the streets with the sounds of many accents and languages mixing in an excited babble. HAPLESS IDIOT is filming a sweeping shot on is iPhone, while WIFE, FRIEND and TEENAGER look excitedly towards a store.

TEENAGER
Ooh, look – a sweetie shop!

WIFE and FRIEND (together, longingly)
Chocolate… waterfall…

TEENAGER, WIFE and FRIEND walk into the shop, as if spellbound. HAPLESS IDIOT finishes his sweeping shot, spins around some more looking for the three ladies who have seemingly vanished into thin air. He then spots them in the store, and spends the next half-minute trying to turn off his phone, muttering curses under his breath. HAPLESS IDIOT then walks into the shop.

INT. NINO AND FRIENDS, A CONFECTIONARY STORE, SIENA, TUSCANY – DAY

SALESMAN (seeing HAPLESS IDIOT and indicating TEENAGER)
…and we can try some. Ah! Is this the Pappa?

HAPLESS IDIOT (incredulously, indicating TEENAGER)
Of her?! Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous.

SALESMAN gives HAPLESS IDIOT a quick appraising look up and down.

SALESMAN
Ah, yes – perhaps not.

Quick cut to to HAPLESS IDIOT, frowning.

Cut back to SALESMAN producing a tray of several types of spherical candies.

SALESMAN (indicating a pile of yellow candies)
So, maybe we start with this one.

Everyone takes a candy, places in their mouth and bites down.

FRIEND
Gosh, there’s quite a bit of booze in that, isn’t there?

TEENAGER (puzzled look on her face)
What is it?

WIFE
Ah, Limoncello!

HAPLESS IDIOT
Yummo!

SALESMAN
Yes, Limoncello. Nice, huh? Try this one.

SALESMAN proffers another corner of the try. All 4 take a sample and bite down. The 3 adults look a little more disappointed with it.

SALESMAN
This one – just lemon, no alcohol.

TEENAGER
Yum!

There is a beat.

FRIEND
Do you have any more with booze?

SALESMAN looks thoughtful, before reaching towards sample bottles of liquour.

SALESMAN
These are cream liquours. Like limoncello, but creamy. Maybe you
like to try melon?

SALESMAN pours pours out samples of the creamy orange liquour into 4 tiny paper cups. (Screenwriter’s note – due to my upcoming trauma, I can’t remember if TEENAGER partook in these samples, but for the sake of added comedy value and given her Scottish heritage, I am assuming she did. When in Rome, etc.). All 4 grab a cup and sip the liquid back. There are murmurs of appreciation from all 4.

HAPLESS IDIOT
Wow! It really tastes like melon!

SALESMAN
Yes. It is made from melon.

HAPLESS IDIOT
Yeah.

SALESMAN
Yes.

There is another beat.

SALESMAN (excitedly)
Pistacchio! Let us try pistacchio!

The process begins again. The SALESMAN fills the same 4 tiny paper cups with a creamy green liquid. Again, the cups are raised, but the faces are different after the first sip.

WIFE
I like pistacchio, but I don’t like this.

FRIEND
Yes, it’s not great is it?

TEENAGER
…

HAPLESS IDIOT
I prefer melon.

SALESMAN
You like pistacchio! Un attimo. Eh, moment, please!

SALESMAN dashes off for a moment, while the 4 take a casual look at the goods in the shop. SALESMAN returns quickly with a short, wide jar of something.

SALESMAN
Crema di pistacchio! Very delicious. Like Nutella, you spread it, but it’s pistacchio.

HAPLESS IDIOT
So, it’s pistacchio, then.

SALESMAN
Yes.

HAPLESS IDIOT
Yeah.

WIFE
Yes, we’ll try some.

SALESMAN gets 4 little tasting sticks and opens the jar. One by one, he places a generous topping on the green cream onto each stick, offers it to the ladies first, before ending up with HAPLESS IDIOT. Each person tries it and indicates through sounds of approval how yummy it is.

HAPLESS IDIOT
Wow! That’s delicious! I really…

There is a gagging sound, as the cream slides down HAPLESS IDIOT’s throat, and gets caught there, seemingly blocking his airway. He is still breathing, but his larynx feels like it has just been sandblasted, and breaths come in gasps. His voice turns into Brando’s Godfather’s.

SALESMAN
Sir, are you alright!

HAPLESS IDIOT (in Godfather voice)
I’ll be ok in a minute.

Tears are streaming down HAPLESS IDIOT’s face while he simultaneously coughs as he fights for breath. SALESMAN grabs a fresh mini paper cup and adds creamy meloncello. FRIEND and TEENAGER have grabbed a few more limoncello candies from the sample tray while SALESMAN is distracted. SALESMAN hands the cup to HAPLESS IDIOT who knocks it back between gasps. It does not have the desired immediate effect.

HAPLESS IDIOT (in Godfather voice)
Need… water…

HAPLESS IDIOT turns away from SALESMAN, and is quickly joined by FRIEND and TEENAGER, leaving WIFE standing by SALESMAN. Quick cut to WIFE looking thoughtfully at the jar, and back again to the other 3, who are standing in a row. HAPLESS IDIOT fumbles for a bottle of water in his manbag while FRIEND and TEENAGER are popping limoncello candies. HAPLESS IDIOT finds the water and unscrews the cap, while looking at FRIEND and TEENAGER. He seems FRIEND and TEENAGER red-faced and shaking with laughter, tears also streaking down their face – but not in sympathy. Oh no.

TEENAGER
We’re walkin’ oota here pished!

Cut to a close up of SALESMAN and WIFE. Coarse coughing and hacking and squeaks of feminine laughter can bear heard in the background. WIFE hands the jar to the SALESMAN.

WIFE
I’ll take one of these.

Cut closer to WIFE, who is now uplit from below, giving her a sinister appearance.

WIFE (sotto voce)
Yes, that ought to be enough.

FADE OUT

THE END

I hope you enjoyed that. I certainly didn’t.

We walked out of the store with some sweets and a jar of death-cream in the end. In fairness, this was an unfortunate fluke – their pistacchio cream is absolutely delish. But our taste for sweet treats didn’t end there. Oh no! We passed by a very tourist-choked gelateria. I had a fair idea that it was not going to be the best, but I also didn’t want to argue, as I thought any gelato would soothe my throat. The gelato was piled high in troughs – almost always a bad sign. I got a couple of flavours, and it was incredibly sweet. Too sweet, in fact. For the first time ever I didn’t finish off a helping of gelato, but chucked about a third of it in the bin.

We got back to the car, and I felt that we had enough time to have a quick tour of the nearby tiny walled village of Monteriggione. We just missed grabbing a free carpark spot. We didn’t spend too long there, as we also missed being able to walk the walls. Sure, any one of Volterra’s panoramic views beats those!

You can trot it from end-to-end in 30 seconds, but it’s so lovely in the sunshine, that’s it’s really worth the visit! There was a brief(ish) stop in a jewellers; little knick-knacks were bought. Sadly, the Pratesi store there wasn’t open yet.

Home for some much-needed relaxation.

Later that evening, we had a little bit of hunger on us, and so I was sent forth on a quest for pizza we could share. I went to La Mangiatoia and the chef there was working on a larger order (I opted for a burger and fries instead of pizza), so I made ours and sat down to have a beer and a chat to kill the time. They’re so nice in there.