Images: Our Butcher; Our BBQ

We discover that our casa does not have a BBQ – that's Italian for BBQ. It's funny, because SL and I spent an hour or so in the Piazza today, just eating a gelato and watching people, and we began feeling Italianized. I wonder if I am going to start writing in Italics....... (sorry)
Undaunted, we forged ahead and visited our macelleria, where SL would NOT relent until I had a picture of our friendly local butcher, a caricature of what she thought he should look like. Guiseppe carved me off two Bistecca Fiorentina and was most disappointed when I explained that it was not Team Canada I needed to feed, just SL and me. I left with a beautiful steak that tipped the Toledos at almost two pounds.
We then went to the local salumeria and discovered that we could buy local Tuscan wine in bulk. After tasting a couple, we bought a two litre jug of a mellow Tuscan red that was poured from a huge barrel into a bottle with a 1$ deposit. Cost? $4 or $2 a litre.
Back at our casa, I jerry-rigged a BBQ from an old broken wheel barrow and a grille from il forno in the house.
SL made a salad, I grilled steak, we had proscuitto and melone for antipasto, drank local Tuscan wine, and watched the sun set on Monte Amiata.