Mandy’s Italian fantasy, besides me of course, involves the Tuscan countryside. It’s easy to understand why. Countless movies have been shot here depicting the rolling hills, fields of grape vines and olive trees and the saffron colored structures dotting the landscape. The last leg of today’s journey takes us deep into this real live movie set just outside of the walled city of Montepulciano. The last two miles to our slice of this picturesque heaven takes us down a windy, hilly, bumpy, dusty, washed out dirt farm road to smack dab in the middle of that Tuscan field you have always imagined. In the middle of that field, at the top, sits Lupaia (pronounced loo-PIE-ya), an ancient estate of Tuscan buildings renovated into a dozen guest cottages with the sweeping panoramic views every romantic dreams of.
It’s breathtaking. The professional website pictures can’t do it justice. We are greeted by our hostess who shows us around the main building and the grounds, careful to point out each feature and amenity. Here is the working Tuscan kitchen, replete with red and white checkerboard backwall. There’s a pair of infinity pools overlooking the valley and onto the town of Montefollonico. Our bags are attended to by a young man with a wicker sided wagon and we are seated on the main lawn and offered welcome drinks. Mandy gets the Prosecco and, for some reason, the Tuscan white appeals to me. Who know white wine was a thing around here? Oh, it is. Left alone for the first time, we drop the cool façade and allow ourselves that GASP we’ve been holding in since we arrived. Oh. My. God. (fistbump, highfive, smileyface, smileyface, smileyface!)
We’re walked to our cottage, a classic style subtly appointed in shades of white and pale unfinished natural wood. White roses in bloom frame the front door, just past the old olive tree in the courtyard. Did I mention this place is exactly what we always imagined? It’s worth mentioning again. The compact bungalow is open plan with vaulted ceilings, a sitting area facing the original fireplace and tall, narrow windows towards Montepulciano. The bed abuts a half wall, the other side of which is the freestanding clawfoot tub. Stop. Breathe. Absorb. Long kiss.
Dinner is on-property. Good thing because we’re not ready to leave yet, not even for a minute. We walk out and are halted by the sight of the full moon radiant in the cloudless sky, bathing the entire valley in its glow. Chef Andrea has prepared a four course pre-fixe to be served on the outdoor patio through the doors past the kitchen. We are seated, greet the other guests nearby and start with the local Brunello. First course is a “fried egg”, a soft boiled egg peeled then breaded and lightly fried, served over toasted pané with a Pecorino béchamel. Best egg sandwich ever. Risotto with mixed veggies for our il primo, creamy and rich, tenderly al dente. Secondi is an expertly prepared filet of deliciousness, beef in a luscious pan reduction. Andrea-made tiramisu rounds out the evening.
We stroll back, stars of our own Federico Fellini film. Cliché be dammed… La Dolce Vita is everything they advertised it to be.
Wow - Wow - Wow
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