My travels rarely take me to the same place twice, after discounting frequent jaunts to Paris, the major cities of Italy and, of course, my love, New York. This year, I made a very special exception and returned to Ceppato, that tiny little village in the net of the Pisan Hills. The occasion? The tenth anniversary of that first visit. A one month exchange in Bologna put me in Italy and the one really free weekend was the weekend of the infamous Zuppa sotto le Stelle. How could I possibly miss that? So, off Jane and I went by train to Pontederra where we were met by, who else, but Piero and the lovely Pieranna. Off we went on that drive through the net that we had taken so many times. Not much has changed in these hills so there were few surprises along the way.

We were a day early for the sagra so we had a delightful evening catching up and surveying the progress on Piero’s olive grove, fruit orchard and garden. He is very proud of his little farm and rightfully so. Dinner was a taste treat.

On to La Zuppa. By the time we returned from our Saturday cappuccino and cornetto con crema, the kitchen was set up in the carport, a slight change from the past. No longer in the cave-like room, the carport offered a breeze and chopping space. As we came down the stairs to join the crew, Loretta was coming up. The joy on her face stopped me cold. “You’ve come! You’ve both come!” Loretta is no small woman and her hug was monumental. We were missed, we were welcomed.

So what is different now? The young couples with babes are now the parents of the little ones doing pop-a-wheelies. The teenagers are now married with babes. The little ones are now the teenagers, aloof, cool, well, teenagers. A few were missing.  The mother and son–our first connection to this lovely, little town–living a life a bit apart, remembered but not participating. The death of a husband leaving the widow delighted to see us again but not eager to join the festivities. New “weekend” neighbors from Pisa with their own entourage–still, they brought friends and bought a table. And a new, very modern, quite large house, occupants unknown.

As for La Zuppa, it is still delicious, the wine pours freely, the men still barbecue the beef, the band plays and everyone dances.

When the food is gone, the band has packed up and the Pisani have gone home, a small group moves into the Circolo Bar for a game of foosball–the diehards.

Ceppato and its La Zuppa.  May it go on…and on…and on.