Eating Italian Il Pomodoro When tomatoes arrived in Italy from the New World in the 16th century, they were called "golden apples" (pomo, apple; d'oro, of gold) and viewed as exotic decorative plants. Some suspected that they might even be poisonous. But adventurous cooks in and around Naples began using tomatoes in their kitchens, and before long enthusiastic fans realized that in the tomato, pasta had met its perfect match. Tomatoes remain Italians' favorite vegetable, served practically every day in countless dishes—from salads to sauces to stews. But sometimes tomatoes are most delicious in the simplest recipes, such as this tasty side dish, perfect with grilled meat or fish, from Viana La Place's My Italian Garden: More than 125 Seasonal Recipes from a Garden Inspired by Italy Broadway (May 8, 2007): Little Golden Tomatoes Sautéed with Green and Black Olives and Parsley 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 1 garlic clove, coarsely chopped 1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 2 1/2 cups Sungold or other small sweet cherry tomatoes 8 oil-cured black olives, pitted and coarsely chopped 6 Sicilian green olives, pitted and coarsely chopped Place the olive oil in a medium sauté pan over low heat. Add the garlic and parsley and cook for two to three minutes or until fragrant and glossy. Add the tomatoes and stir two to three minutes until the tomatoes are glossy and the parsley is evenly distributed. Stir in the olives and season with a little sea salt if needed. Stir gently with a wooden spoon until the tomatoes are warm through but intact. Serve warm or at room temperature.   Touring Italian Assisi Francis of Assisi, one of the best known and beloved saints, also was one of Italian's earliest and most influential poets. As founder of a religious order of "begging brothers," Francis wrote songs called laudes in the Umbrian dialect. His Canticle of the Creatures, which celebrates with innocent wonder Master Sun, Sister Moon, Brother Wind, Sister Water, Brother Fire, and Mother Earth, is considered the first masterpiece of Italian literature. In this month's guest post, Wendy Murray, a journalist and author who lived in Assisi while researching A Mended and Broken Heart, the Life and Love of Francis of Assisi (Basic Books 2008), provides an in-depth perspective on a town that millions visit but few to get to know as well. Saint Francis' biographer and one-time mayor of Assisi, Arnaldo Fortini, posed the question: "Did Assisi determine Francis or visa-versa?" He then answered it: "St. Francis could only be born in a city like Assisi because only that place, that sky, that almost oriental peace, provided the possibility for his soul to fly toward its Creator." The small Italian hill town in the heart of Umbria bears little consequence in the larger cultural landscape of Italy. It is not Florence, effervescing works of (among others) Leonardo, Botticelli, Lippi, and Michelangelo. It is not Siena, second only to Florence in art and effervescence. It is not an intellectual center such as Bologna, nor a hub of style as is Milan. It is not Genoa (Columbus), or Ravenna (mosaics), or Faenza (ceramics), or Rome, (two millennia of monuments). Yet Assisi was everything to Italy's patron saint, Saint Francis (1182-1226), who was born, lived, and died there. Assisi is a fortressed Italian hill town, spilling down the western spur of Mount Subasio, a mighty and mystical mountain where Francis often retreated in his youth and also in his later life. The town overlooks the alluvial plain of the Spoleto valley, a magical region adorned with cypresses and elms, mulberries, ox-eye daisies and purple irises, and dense pine forests. Umbria's evening sunlight lends odd luminescence to the land and transforms evening skies to fire and indigo. Assisi was a feisty little warring town, ready to take up arms at the slightest provocation. By the time of Francis' birth in 1182, Assisi had been conquered by Rome, the Byzantine Empire, the Ostrogoths, the Lombards, and the Franks. Even so, the 14th century Italian poet Dante said of it: "Let him who talks of this place not say Ascesi which were to speak short." (Ascesi is an old spelling of the town, which means "I arose.") The town ought to be called "Orient, if he would speak properly," he wrote, since it is from the east that the sun rises. In Assisi, he says, a new light arose and cast a strange glow over a dark land. This was Francis. Assisi is now a pilgrimage town. Millions come every year to plod those ancient alleyways in search of something they perceive but can't put a finger on. I see it as a hounding desire to know the story of Saint Francis—and, of necessity, Saint Clare since their lives are inescapably linked, as the town itself asserts. It is suspended between their respective basilicas, two churches—that of San Francesco to the west and of Santa Chiara to the east, each anchoring the town in unresolved tension that keeps pilgrims coming and going, rain or shine, trekking the city end to end. But Francis himself never knew these pilgrimage sites. His hands are associated with other projects. For example, when he was 16 (before his religious conversion), he and his fellow merchant-class warriors tore down the walls of the city's main high fortress above town, called La Rocca, and drove the nobles from their homes into exile, decisively repulsing entrenched feudalism. Several years later, after savage warring and multiple illnesses had tempered him, he remained a man of stone—but no longer as one who tore down fortresses. Instead, he rebuilt three ruined churches, two of which are still standing. The first is a small church just south of Assisi known as San Damiano. He labored with great joy, calling to passers-by (in French): "Come and help me in the work of the church of San Damiano which was completed in a very short time. A few years later Clare of Assisi moved in, eventually joined by her sister and other women. Francis promptly began work on two more ruined churches, one called San Pietro della Spina (now lost) and another called the Portiuncola, near San Damiano and the seat of the blossoming order. Today it remains intact, subsumed by the large edifice of the church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. The great Basilica of Saint Francis, where the saint is buried, did not arise until four years after his death. The vicar of the Order at the time, Brother Elias, arranged for Francis' temporary burial at the church of San Giorgio (the present-day Basilica of Saint Clare) and started planning the erection of a great basilica to be the permanent resting place of Francis' mortal remains. Construction began in March 1228 and advanced with incredible speed. The lower church was finished within twenty-two months. The following May, in a hurried, secret, and still unexplained change of plan, Elias orchestrated the secret transfer of Francis's body from San Giorgio to the basilica's lower church. The completion of the Upper Basilica, where Giotto's well-known Francis cycle is displayed, was finished in 1239. Clare outlived Francis by 27 years and died at San Damiano in 1253. Her remains were buried inside the walls of Assisi in the Church of San Giorgio, rebuilt and standing today as the Basilica of Saint Clare. Wendy Murray is leading a Study Tour to Assisi, Italy in September, In the Footsteps of St. Francis. The tour is based upon her book, A Mended and Broken Heart, the Life and Love of Francis of Assisi (Basic Books 2008). To see a video by her students at Gordon College on the life ot St. Francis, click here. Trip dates: September 3 to 10, 2009 Registration Deadline: June 15 Registration deposit: $250.00 due upon registration Total Cost: $2500—Cost includes transportation from Rome to Assisi and back; housing; breakfast; a full-course traditional Italian "pranzo" (mid-day meal) at a local restaurant; guest lectures; and day excursions. Airfare is not included. For detailed information visit her personal blog. Or email her: Wendy.murray@gordon.edu or assisiworkshops@gmail.com