Once upon a time and countless moons ago, a town was built upon a hill. They had saffron and wine, and because of this, they prospered. Even when the Guelphs who were #TeamPope and Ghibellines who were #TeamHolyRomanEmperor pulled the town into their centuries-long power struggle, the townspeople’s purses bulged. The problem with bulging purses though, is that they’re terribly cumbersome as far as symbols of wealth and power go—the well-to-do families of San Gimignano didn’t want to walk around looking like pack mules, after all. They did, however, want to show exactly how rich and powerful they were; so, naturally, they started building enormous phallic monuments to their strength and substance, i.e. towers. Every time some rich guy thought that he’d finally built the tower to shame all towers, some other rich guy came around and built a bigger one until that lovely town on the hill was chock-full of 70 or so stony beasts. Family rivalries being the dramatic enterprises they are, the tower building might have gone on longer, but eventually, someone said, ‘Hey, we have to put a stop to this. No more towers higher than the last.” So, they stopped building towers because building a tower the same size as your archnemesis’ isn’t half as fun as building one that’s taller. These days, you can only count 14 towers in the San Gimignano skyline, which is still an impressive medieval feat. That’s not why I went to San Gimignano though, though I do love a good, dramatic tale of rivaling Italian families (I did only go to Tuscany because I just finished binge-watching The Medici, after all). No, I went to the City of Fine Towers to ingest and imbibe on the quaint,
Cum Quibus opened in 2005 when the Di Paolantonio decided that fine towers are cool, but fine-dining is better. The rustic and romantic Michelin star restaurant sits on a side street of the tourist-filled center and is run by the young and dynamic pair of Lorenzo Di Paolantonio and Alberto Sparacino. Alberto prepares local Italian products with an imaginative gourmet twist, while Lorenzo hosts guests with a wide smile and a contagious passion for their amazing cuisine.
So, after rambling about the beautiful ancient town while enjoying the stray rays of sunshine and trying my best not to slip on the cobblestone paths made slick by the soft spring rains, I casually made my way to Cum Quib
First, came the black pearl, a chicken liver paté enclosed by a glossy ink sphere. The pearl was accompanied by a ‘green olive’ of cacao butter stuffed with emulsified olive oil, sitting over a bed of black olive ‘soil.’ Along with the appetizers came three different types of bread (two loaves and some sticks) with a decadent butter mousse and an addictive chicken liver paté encased in a brown sugar shell. Had I never gone to Cum Quibus, I might never have uncovered my secret love for sweetened chicken liver, which is stronger than I ever could have imagined. So, of course, the ancient locale had my heart before the first course even arrived.
For the first course, we chose Cum Quibus’ signature dish, the Mezzovo, which is a sheep cheese mousse hugging an egg yolk and topped with fresh truffle. For the second, we chose the scallop with fennel, cream, and a white wine sauce (because scallops are kind of my seafood obsession right now). We then received an excellent spaghetti with smoked butter and dashi, which came under a bell jar filled with smoke. The effect might have been more stunning had a sudden gust of wind not blown the smoke so suddenly away, but the aesthetic was nonetheless as impeccable as the culinary execution. Our third chosen course was the tortellini with lamb ragout, pea paste, and wormwood. That hit of bitter was a bit of a shock to my palette, but of course, it was incredible with the rich ragout. For our final course, we chose the seabass, which came with several types of seaweed and seagrass (the salty, crunchy sea snack of my dreams) as well as eggplant, raspberry, and red currants. Essentially, I’ll be splattering berries over all my fish dishes from now on because that’s how amazing it was.
The pre-dessert was a fried pasta dusted with powdered sugar over homemade ice cream, which made me particularly happy because it reminded me of the buñelos my family used to eat around Christmas. The main dessert was an almond cake with amaretto cookies, orange sorbet, and candied orange rinds. Much like the scallop dish, the dessert shocked me with a bitter note, which rounded out the sweetness of the dish and officially made me a bitter convert.
Then, as one does after an excellent meal, we had coffee with chocolates; and because I’ve never said no to post-dinner drinks since the idea was first introduced to me upon my move across the sea, of course, we had a digestif. It was in that moment that I discovered milk liqueur, which is officially my new favorite liqueur. So much so, that I made an hour-long detour to the adorable town of Castagneto Carducci on the road home just to get myself a bottle of it from the Fabbrica Liquori Borsi, which has, by far, the cutest, oldest little shop full of handmade products that I’ve ever in my life seen.
All in all, it was a great gastro experience. Alberto’s food is delicious and beautiful, and Lorenzo’s sparkling personality makes the visit an absolute pleasure. So, if you’re ever in the mood to look at some giant, ancient towers and eat some regional, creative, and exquisite
