The Second Point of Our Triangle ~ Food

Hello, for those of you who don’t know me, my name is Deborah.  While I’ve been living in Vegas for over nineteen years, I grew up in Palo Alto, but was born and went to college in San Francisco, California.  That famous fog that rolls in at day’s end, accompanied by those chilly breezes, still rustles through my veins even here in the desert.  Growing up in what is now known as the bustling Silicone Valley, but back in the '60's and 70's was far less so, is where I developed my innate tendency to wear patchouli oil and hemp-based backpacks accented with designer eyewear and outfits with an avant garde flair.  This dichotomous approach to fashion permeates my character and makes for a mix of expensive taste, tempered with organic reasoning and logic.  At least that’s how I see myself. 

I’m between 58 and 62 years of age, been married a few times and have four wonderful, full-grown children.  I spend my time (oh dear, this is beginning to sound like a dating site bio) working as a personal chef, teaching cooking classes, writing, and doing volunteer work.  There’s also some exercising and gardening thrown in for good measure.

I was drawn to this hike along the Franciscan Trail over a year ago.  I heard about it while attending a lecture and viewing videos presented by a gentleman who had just returned from his own venture along Italy’s Green Heart.   A couple of months after that video, my selection for my book club was Wild, which was followed by the movie version.   Now I am not a wilderness trail kind of girl, but I do enjoy hiking.   I’ve always appreciated nature in its fullest, the majestic trees of Yosemite, the rocky beaches of Half Moon Bay, the snow-capped mountains of the Sierras and of course the icy, blue water of Lake Tahoe.  However, snakes, wild boar and spiders (apparently they are part of the St. Francis Trail) are rather bothersome for me. But there seemed to be so many “signs” directing me towards the Trail. 

My love of travel, art, history, and of course, Italian cuisine and wine.  That, mixed with my recent yearning to wander through greener pastures, trumped my fear of wild animals and pesky insects.   I made the decision to pursue this adventure.      

It doesn’t seem long ago, when I would eagerly wake with the sun warming my eyelids after a night of sleeping under the stars, only a plastic tarp beneath my sleeping bag (Michael beside me) and an expansive morning sky above me.  Back then I could lace up a pair of hiking boots in seconds flat, stuff a sleeping bag into a 4 x 6 nylon drawstring sack, then run my hands through my long, unruly hair and head out to the nearest road or trail.  These were things I did as I hitchhiked across the country from California to Annapolis Maryland.  Slept on the floor of a ballroom on board a cruise ship then rode the train west, across Canada.   Then I was still a teenager. 

In my late forties I found myself hiking the Grand Canyon, I didn’t pay attention and thought I would be doing day hikes for a day or two.  Nope, instead it was 7 hours aaall the way down to Phantom Ranch and 9 hours back out the next day.  Now that was a feat worth Blogging about.  So why, all these years later, do I think I can take on an excursion of this sort?  First of all because I want to.   Secondly, I’ll be hiking this trail with a legitimate out-doorsy group, The Sierra Club, and lastly, more importantly, I’ll be flanked by two of my best friends, Brenda and Nancy.  

While the three of us have our own personal reasons for making this trek through the undulating landscapes of Central Italy, my contribution is the food perspective.  Not only do I plan on covering the foods we will encounter on the hike and while tootling around town for 14-16 days, I’m going to contribute to my threesome’s epicurean preparation for the trip.  As the girls and I move between workouts and walk-a-thons, I’ll be sharing what I know and research regarding which ingredients, herbs, spices and dishes will best help to increase our strength and endurance.  

Of course, we each individually and collectively have issues to address and a variety of obstacles to overcome as we ready ourselves for this trip.  So before Nancy, Brenda and I make even one imprint of a hiking boot onto the dust and dirt of the Franciscan Trail in Umbria Italy there are a few things we must do.    The first of which is . . . . .