Pesto Change-o!

After completing our tour of duty in St. Martin de l’Arcon, we returned our rental car in Montpellier (but only after dealing with the stress of a malfunctioning fuel gauge) and caught a morning train to Nice. At Nice, we jumped on an eastbound train and disembarked thirty minutes later at Ventimiglia (which translates to “20 miles”), an Italian border town where we were meeting Kaberi’s cousin Amit and his wife Chetna who were vacationing with their two young daughters, Aryana and Anika. They had rented a well-outfitted hillside apartment in Apricale, a nearby village with the well-deserved reputation as one of the most picturesque settings in Italy.

After a pleasant drive to Apricale, we embarked upon the short, but steep, walk up the hill to the apartment. Huffing and puffing, we wound up getting more of a workout than we had anticipated. A few hours later, on a walk to the town center, we found ourselves put further to shame by older townspeople (a mere two to three times our age) effortlessly navigating the steep terrain while we fought to catch our breath with each step.

Upon settling in at the apartment, we had a chance to play with three-month old Anika and were quickly enchanted by her happy-go-lucky temperament. In comparison, three-year-old Aryana bowled us over with her seemingly-boundless energy and curiosity. We found ourselves thoroughly outmatched until nap-time beckoned. Amit and Chetna fortunately had stocked the apartment with ample provisions for rebuilding one’s energy. While the kids napped, we spent the afternoon enjoying local meats and cheeses with tall glasses of Lambrusco wine and Bailey’s. After a relaxing chat, we made our way into the village for an authentic Italian meal at an outdoor terrazzo.

The next day, Amit and Kaberi hiked uphill for a coffee fix before the six of us partook in a hearty breakfast at home. Making good use of our relatively-early start to the day, we drove to a farmers market in the idyllic neighboring town of Dolceacqua to stock up on fresh, local ingredients for a pasta dinner planned for that evening. We enjoyed sampling the myriad cheese options available to us before we carefully accumulated mushroom ravioli, cheese ravioli, fresh tomatoes and apricots. Afterward, we briefly strolled up cobblestone alleys and across a prominent bridge depicted in a Monet painting. In deference to Aryana’s utter glee at hearing the local belltower toll, we good-naturedly waited until the top of the hour before continuing on our way.

From Dolceacqua, we followed the coastline across the border to Menton, a French beachside hamlet that once stood in Italian territory. We were all amused by the exploitative toll system that forced motorists to pull a ticket in Italy and pay toll to enter France 50 feet later. After securing a parking spot in the heart of town, we found an inviting spot to dine al fresco with views of the sparkling emerald and aqua Mediterranean. After lunch, we continued on to one of the only sandy (as opposed to pebbly) beaches on the French Rivera where all of us ventured into the surprisingly-cold late June surf.

On our return, we stopped in at a local Conad supermarket to augment our dinner provisions. We soon found freshly made pesto (a regional specialty), two local varietals of red wines, and a panoply of meringues and éclairs (bearing more of a French ancestry than Italian, in Kaberi’s humble opinion). After returning home to the apartment, Amit and Chetna ventured out for a drink while we babysat the girls. With Aryana down for a nap, the two of us devoted ourselves to lavishing attention on Anika. When Amit and Chetna returned, we started the dinner process, with our hosts whipping up a feast of salad and pesto ravioli accompanied by local red wines and capped off with Kaberi’s hand-selected dessert options. Both the company and the food made for a fabulous evening at home, a nice change of pace after our soporific week in southern France.