Vistas of Veneto
Alessandra Zecchini
Nowhere else in the world I have been conveys such a sense of history as Veneto. The cuisine in this north-eastern region of Italy speaks of the many years of rule by the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and of the rural mountain resources. Houses and churches remain untouched (or have just been restored) from the Renaissance, some are fenced by clumsy medieval walls, and streets are Roman.
Walking through the streets around where I’m staying, old villagers stop me to ask about New Zealand, and then tell me their own stories of immigrants, the wars, and relations I barely knew. Even the Dolomite Mountains that surround these valleys are a veritable treasure chest of information; just outside my door I can dig up 40,000-year-old flint remains of the first inhabitants and million-year old fossils of shells.
Naturally I feel connected: this is my mother’s birthplace, the tiny village of Teven in the municipality of Pedavena, four kilometres from the ancient city of Feltre. As a child I used to come here every summer. Now I’m returning with my own children in the hope of exposing them to a bit of the history and culture that surely must also run in their veins.
We’re driving north-east from Vicenza, along a road that is basically one long bridge suspended above the villages and creeks, seeming to touch ground only to go through tunnels. Then we enter the green Valley of Feltre, encircled by its stunning mountains, the Vette Feltrine.
 Being here in the mountains makes me instantly feel at ease. This must be why in Auckland I ended up living in the Waitakere Ranges: as soon as the road curves upwards into the bush I relax, embraced by a sense of altitude, even if modest. But the Dolomites I adore with the feeling of a teenage love, gasping with a tight chest and a hole in the stomach every time I see them.
My Mum, Maria Giuditta Zancanaro, and her sister, Aunt Alice, are waiting for us with a pot of minestrone, the family restorative de rigueur after every long journey. The entire dinner is based on produce from their vegie garden, which offers its best in summer, so a warm (not hot) minestrone is the logical outcome. This is an almost vegetarian family and more vegies follow: radicchio, tomatoes and other raw vegetables, new potatoes and teghe, my favourite – long green beans cooked almost too much from a nouvelle cuisine perspective, but here it works, dressed simply with olive oil and salt.
 A big tray of cheeses provides protein and I go straight for the asiago, a cow’s milk cheese that manages to hold an interestingly pungent flavour even when fresh. A bit more space for the local piave cheese, which holds similar qualities, and some for the children, who aren’t colby types, too. A glass of red wine completes the fare, and even placates the emotional hole in the stomach. No dessert, as sweet treats are kept for special occasions. I am the family’s baker; in my absence a tray of pastries is usually purchased from Garbujo, the best pâtisserie in Feltre.
Food is simple here. It is a reminder that although Veneto is now the export engine of Italian industry, until a few decades ago it was poverty stricken and its greatest export was people. Polenta and beans or schiz (melted fresh cheese) were the staples; Mum had so much of it as a child that now she cooks polenta only if requested, never for herself.
She takes out a big copper saucepan and places it over the wood fire of the stufa (the Italian equivalent of the Aga), which is found in every house of this province, even in modern apartments, and then stirs the yellow mass for nearly an hour.
Beans are in fact quite renowned now, especially those from the nearby village of Lamon, and they are utterly delicious. Schiz, meanwhile, is appearing on menus in restaurants.
 Of course, I 
PHOTOGRAPHY BY LUCIO DALLA GIUSTINA
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