Family Businesses Have a Rich Flavor

(Melissa Cannarozzi - Twp)

For the duration of these Winter Olympics, visitors to the Alpine village of Sestriere can start out at one end of the central piazza absolutely famished and end up at the opposite end fully stuffed and crocked.

That's because the piazza is lined with 24 small wooden huts promoting the hand-made crafts and delicacies that are unique to Italy's Piedmont region. Whether hand-painted ceramics, hand-knit baby bonnets, hand-carved cutting boards, hand-dipped candles or the best bread, chocolate and cookies you've ever tasted, everything is made by artisans who don't work out of factories but out of their homes or workshops, often alongside family members of multiple generations.

The minders of these huts are as informed as tour guides and as welcoming as long-lost relatives, happy to explain the tradition and origin of their wares, sell you a souvenir or offer you a sample, in the case of baked goods and home-brewed beverages.

This is how, on Thursday morning, I managed to scarf down a Ravera baci ("kiss") made with dark chocolate and hazelnuts, a brutti buoni ("ugly but good" cookie) chocked with nuts and sugar, hot chocolate so thick it was served with a spoon, and mulled red wine swirled with melted chocolate (a wonderful, if peculiar, warmup) -- all before noon.

I didn't sample everything, mind you. But I drooled over apricot jam at one hut. At another, devoted entirely to the rare and expensive white truffles that are rooted out of the forest by truffle-sniffing dogs, I marveled at the array of products -- including truffle-laced honey, truffle-flavored pasta and truffle spread. And it went on: organic liqueur made from wild thyme; chestnuts roasting in iron vats; breadsticks made with natural flour; fresh egg pasta; and giant wheels of cheese.

Every proprietor seemed pleased I liked the wares, and everyone wished me buona giornata , which is the friendly way of saying, "Have a good day!" Only once was I solicited. It was by an especially outgoing young man who motioned for me to follow him to a hut on a small side street, saying, " La Via da Felicita !" We arrived at a display of books by L. Ron Hubbard, and I quickly realized that "La Via da Felicita" means "The Way to Happiness," and that "Scientology" means the same in English as it does in Italian.

-- Liz Clarke

Needing Brownie Points

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The problem with leaving a wife back home while gallivanting across the Italian Alps is that she tends to want things in return. Apparently this does not include an official Torino! 2006 baseball cap.

No, our bargain was driven much harder.

"An Italian leather handbag," Amy said.