Sunny Siena

Sienese pesto addiction

It's utterly irrational, biased and partial, but when I think of Siena, I just think of the best pesto in the world. I see a huge, freshly harvested basil bouquet bought from the market, with long stems and roots still full of coal-black soil. I smell heaven from a motorbike side bag carrying the basil tuft from the Siena market to our San Lorenzo a Merse guesthouse. I feel myself stamping with impatience on the back of the motorbike, waiting to get into the kitchen. I hear the sound of crushing basil leaves together with the garlic cloves, pine nuts, sea salt, Tuscan olive oil and a touch of garden-grown red chili pepper. While the basil has been crushed, the pasta were just al dente. Plates on the table. Pasta on the plates. Pesto on the pasta. Bliss, just bliss for the next couple of minutes. And the thought of doing it again the day after.

Siena is a blue-eyed girl

The kings of arches

Public lamp contest

Siena' streets

© Madalina Diaconescu 2017

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