a win in wetzikon

While I spent most of the month of August going to German classes and doing German homework and taking German exams, the real test came when I spent an afternoon, evening and night with Stefan's dad and his wife.

Talking only German.

We started with a light summer lunch of gazpacho, prosciutto with melon, and mountain cheese with fresh apricots.
(Demonstration of kitchen cutlery and foodstuffs vocabulary - check!)

We then went for a long walk along a nearby lake, stopping by the oldest tree in the village.

Did you know that the church is the highest building in every Swiss village

(Demonstration of basic chit-chat phrases and past tense to tell all about what I've been up to month-to-date - check!)
We then made our way up to an adorable little family farm that is open to visitors to explore.

a hand-painted sign gives you the lay of the land

like any good farm, this one included an adorable little shop 

with all-organic, homegrown or homemade products 

that I obviously had to check out

the Swiss love to buy local and will pay double the price 

for a product grown in their home country

the shop's labels were simple, clean, efficient perfection

just with the family's name (Jucker) and Hof for farm

even the toilets in this place were gorgeous

After a quick tour of the animals,
(Demonstration of farm animal and equipment vocabulary - check!)

and then a leisurely coffee overlooking the lake, 
we headed to our evening activity: the Chilpi! 

(Wetzikon's equivalent to a state fair.)

Switzerland's XXL Pommes (French Fries) - see upper left corner

equates to an American size small and costs five times the price

Since Urs is mayor of the town, it seemed as though the crowds parted for us - everyone knew him and Edith and wanted to say hello.  Wherever we walked, someone wanted to hear how they were doing or treat us to a beer.
(Demonstration of get-to-know-you questions and phrases - check!)

After quite a bit of socializing, Edith and I headed up in the Ferris wheel to get a look at the idyllic surroundings.

(Demonstration of city vocabulary as I asked where the Krankenhaus/Hospital, Schule/School und Kirche/Church were - check!)

We enjoyed some bratwursts and cervelats (traditional Swiss sausages) before retiring home early. (I did have class the next morning.)

And at the end of evening, after we had all finished a pot of tea, Stefan's father said the sweetest three words I could have imagined:

"Ich habe verloren."
"I have lost."

As you might guess, I slept quite well that night. :)

xoxo

KK

a swiss bet

The first time I was ever in Switzerland was three years ago this past August.  

Stefan and I had just started dating, and though things were still quite new, we knew it was a fantastic idea to take advantage of some time in between jobs to spend a month together in Venezuela (learning Spanish and how to kite surf) and then a month together in Switzerland.  
In Switzerland, we did all sorts of very Swiss things (like take long hikes in the Alps and eat Swiss sausages and visit cheese factories tucked away into the mountains).  But on one particular day on this trip (one we spent in Davos with Stefan's father), I made a bet that I would be able to speak Swiss German by the end of 2011.  

(It was summer of 2010 at the time, and a year and a half seemed like more than enough time to learn a language that requires you to learn an entire other language (High German) before you can even begin to learn it.)

here we are on that faithful day

Well, as I'm sure you already know, I lost that bet long ago.
But once I paid out for my loss (a nice dinner out for the four of us), I signed on for another: Hoch Deutsch by the end of 2014.

And so while I spent August in der Schweiz going to class and doing homework and taking tests every single day, the real test for me was when I spent an afternoon, evening, and night with Stefan's father and his wife.  
Talking only Deutsch.

The story on how it went comes tomorrow.
Stay tuned.

xoxo
KK

the path of gods

To offset some of that delicious, delicious Italian food, we decided to spend one day conquering the famous Path of Gods – a cliff-lined trail that leads you from Positano (where we were staying) to Priano (the next town over). 

Most people opt to take the bus (or a taxi) up to Nocelle – the town directly above Positano where the trail really gets gorgeous – to avoid the 2000+ steps required to get there by foot.  But since we are always game for a good challenge, we opted to do the full sha-bang.

When one reviewer said the path up to Nocelle was a series of "endless steps", I was sure this was just a figure of speech.

It was not.

See the beach of that little seaside town down there?

That’s where we started,

And this wasn’t even halfway up.

But the views from the top were well-worth the unbelievable effort required to get there.

that island over to the left there is the island of the Sirens 

(from the Odyssey)

But our journey was far from over.  Once up, we needed to hike along the cliffs to the next town – an exercise that was scary even for one without a fear of heights.

Stefan, however, is one of those crazy people who seems to be not afraid of anything.  While I’m always thinking of the worst case scenario where everyone ends up dying, he can only see the best.

this kid is insane

We stumbled upon an old (but still functioning) monastery where we enjoyed a bit of shade before finishing the hike down to Priano. 

Priano was small and nice, but lacked the charm of Positano – we opted to skip a lunch there and head back to our little town instead.  There, we enjoyed tomato-mozzarella paninis seaside and then spent the afternoon lounging and swimming in the warm sea.

We were exhausted, but satisfied, ready for more delicious Italian food.

xoxo

KK

antonio caggiano

Are you getting sick of hearing about our wine adventures yet?
We're getting close to the end - I promise.
(And hearing about this is a lot more exciting than hearing about what we were up to this past weekend: laundry, work-clothes-shopping, and dealing with our car being broken into - now we're real San Franciscans.)

Post Montevetrano, we headed to Antonio Caggiano for another private tasting with the winemaker himself.  Given Antonio didn't speak a word of English (and Stefan's Span-talian wasn't going to make the cut for more than the basics), his son did the honors of our private tour.

their library

their cellar

their old-school cork-put-er-in-er

While Antonio didn't speak English, he did have an odd obsession with taking photographs of me (which I obviously loved), particularly in front of a rather large poster of him - well - taking photos.  Random.

I didn't ask questions.  

Their affinity for us paid off when it came time for the tasting.

At one point Stefan mentioned how the 1999 vintage of a particular 2011 vintage wine we were tasting must be sensational for x, y and z reasons he is describing oh-so-clearly above.  
(I nodded in agreement but obviously didn't have a clue.)

The son quickly replied: "Let's find out," and scurried off to their cellar to open one of the $80+ retail bottles in question.

It was sensational.

Stefan - you're a wine genius.

(But then again, I was quite a few tastes in by this point.)

When we paid for our purchases (2 bottles of the sensational 1999), not only did they not charge us a penny for the tasting, they tossed in another bottle of wine (my favorite of the bunch) as a present from Antonio.

Now that's what I call customer service.

xoxo

KK

montevetrano

Since Montevetrano is home to one of the only successful female winemakers in Campania, Stefan knew he wanted it on our list.  Only problem was that they don’t really except visitors.  But Stefan (being the charmer that he is) was able to get us for a private tour with the winemaker herself: the lovely and oh-so-passionate Silvia Imparato.

While a visit alone would have been beyond special enough, it just so happened that a well-known Italian journalist from a prestigious Italian wine magazine also happened to be visiting that day.  Silvia and the wine reviewer would be doing a very rare vertical tasting: 7 different vintage years of the same exact wine side-by-side.  And given we happened to be there on this day, we got to take part.  Pretty unreal.  

Silvia kicked off our visit by giving us a personalized tour of the gorgeous grounds and barrel room. 

As she guided us through the vineyards, she told us stories of growing up here with her cousins, helping to pick the grapes and make the wines.  She also told us how she’s left the land almost completely unchanged from when she was a child.  While most wine-makers would ensure only vines line the soil, in Silvia’s fields cherry and figs trees grow freely, sometimes smack-dab in the middle of a row of vines.  She thinks this freedom and spontaneity adds to the wine’s richness and flavor.

fig tree on left

She also told us how she attributes much of her success (and her extra-sharp mind) to the fact that she was bold enough to sneak glasses of her family's wine starting at the age of 7 - something she lets her 9-year-old grandson indulge in as well.

She then guided us not to a tasting room, but rather into her own Tuscany-style home.

The tasting took place on her beautiful, airy patio overlooking the nearby rolling hills.

As promised, she opened 7 different vintages, plus one extra bottle of a new wine they had yet to release.

While we had done lots of research on her wines, it quickly became apparent that we were completely out of our league beside the Italian wine journalist.  

He immediately requested white paper to hold behind the glass as he twirled it to check the wine's color in addition to insisting the platter of fresh, homemade potato pizza be removed from the area (much to my disappointment) to not interfere with his sense of smell.

note his special wine tasting notebook atop his white paper supply

Not only did he take more notes than a freshman in Psych 101 before he even took a sip, he had a sense of smell that I didn't know was possible in a human being. 

note 9-year-old grandson partaking in tasting

Some things he smelled in the first vintage alone:

"Jicama." (Which I can't smell even when I have a Jicama in front of me.)

"Coffee beans that have been roasted for 8 days." (Not 7 days, and certainly not 9 days.)

"The lemon scent of starch when it is being ironed onto a linen shirt." (Seriously.  I can't make this stuff up.)

While we couldn't keep up with his superhuman wine-tasting skills, we had a wonderful time trying the wines (me more than Stefan as he was still on board to drive for one more stop), learning more about Silvia and the history of the winery, and just enjoying the gorgeous scenery.  

Far too quickly, it was time to say good-bye.

Before we left, however, she gave us a tour of her charming, old kitchen (and let us sneak a few pieces of that potato pizza for the road).

xoxo

KK

A 1-year anniversary “surprise”

Because we weren’t able to be together for our 1-year wedding anniversary, we agreed we’d celebrate it at some point during our little getaway in Italy.  Mr. Fischer (being the killer husband that he is) offered to plan our special day.

Stefan and I had our very first date at A16 – a fabulously simple Italian restaurant (with to-die-for pizzas and a book for a wine list) in San Francisco. 

from here

The restaurant is named after a very famous highway in Campania wine country that leads to the region’s best vineyards and therefore specializes in Campania wines.  A16 is one of the only few spots in the US where you can find all of Campania’s best wine labels (many of which we had tried on our various dates there since that faithful first one) under one roof.

It just so happened that Positano is a meer hour and a half away from the real A16, so Stefan figured we had no choice to go.  And since wine has always played a special role in our relationship (we got married on a vineyard and our entire wedding ceremony was about how marriage is like making wine), we figured a day of wine-tasting fit the bill for the big 1 year.

(Much better than personalized stationary in my book.)

While the whole thing was supposed to be a surprise, Stefan knows me oh-so-very-well and therefore knows I (like so many of the Krieg clan) need to know what the “plan” is.  
For example:
For my mom’s 50^th birthday, my dad gave her a romantic trip to Hawaii.  But he didn’t just tell her about the trip, he presented her with an entire booklet outlining every single thing they would do (where they’d play golf, what they’d eat, when they’d work out) down to the minute: “A Plan with Activities” as my dad titled it.  She absolutely loved it. 

Stefan took a cue from my father and did the same for me.  A few weeks before this day, he “surprised” me with a booklet outlining exactly what we’d do on this special, celebratory day: which wineries we’d visit (along with the history behind each one), where we’d eat dinner (with sample menus might be), and where we would spend the night (along with pictures of the spot): a surprise that I knew all about –  I was in heaven.

To get us out there, he rented a classic, red Fiat convertible which we picked up first thing in the morning and drove along the scenic Amalfi Coast.

While gorgeous, the curves on this road made California's Highway 1 look like a cake walk.  That combined with insanely narrow streets, huge buses with no regard for what else might be on the road, jaw-dropping cliffs the entire way, and crazy Italian drivers without fear of death made for one hell of an exciting drive.

After a good hour and a half of excitement, however, we had arrived at our first locale: Montevetrano.

This stop was so good, it requires its own post.  Tune back in soon.

xoxo
KK