Locked up, sweetened up and hauled up a mountain in a rickety tractor: Piemonte Stage Day 4

I watched the iron doors close behind me with a sense of mounting panic.  From being fingerprinted in Cuneo to starting the day behind bars at the Saluzzo jail, I should've been concerned.  And I was - concerned that I wouldn't get the beer samples.

You don't typically associate a jail and a renowned microbrewery, but that's exactly what's going on in Saluzzo.  Pausa Cafe is situated within the grounds of a fully-functioning, overcrowded prison, following a variety of traditional wild yeast and standard brewing methods.  Through a competitive application and evaluation process, several inmates are hired to learn the craft - with a guaranteed job upon release.  And the beer is very good and distinctive - even at 10am.  (Of course, no photographs were allowed in a government institution, so you'll just have to come visit me to sample some of the beer!)

Even though lunch was the only thing on our beer-logged minds, we still had another stop: Domori Chocolates.  One of the few chocolateries to source and roast their own cocoa beans, we embarked on a fascinating tour of the factory, clad yet again in disposable whites.  Each step of the process is thoughtful, and being able to taste dark chocolate straight off the line deliciously reinforced their commitment to quality.

Thirty minutes later, our bus lurched to a halt church-side, turning us out halfway up a steep hill.  Hmmmm... hiking in the heat of the day hadn't been on our study trip agenda.  Then gates swung open to reveal a stunning 800 year old castello.  A brief walk later found us on a shaded terrace overlooking the entire valley, champagne and fresh watermelon mimosas in hand.  Benvenuti a pranzo!  Sponsored by Domori and organized by a UNISG grad, the heaping vegetable buffet was clearly the mark of a woman experienced in Stage cuisine's serious lack of fibre.

Next came chocolates compliments of Domori and coffee.

But we were not yet finished.  A lecture on Domori's history and sustainability in a stone cave on the side of the hill was followed by a tasting of single origin chocolates.  We stumbled back to the bus in a state of chocolate-induced bliss.

At this point, most of us were dreading the drive to the goat cheese farm, little knowing that the best was yet to come.  Our bus, after getting lost for the 8th time that day, finally made its way up a tiny road to the cevrin di coazze farm.  We spent a little time meeting the cows, hanging out with the family, and seeing how they make and age their cow and goat cheeses. 

This is where our adventure began.  Back on the bus for another half hour, we spilled out at the start of a rocky alpine road.  Several of our crew sprinted for the 10 person van.  The rest of us opted for the cart attached to the back of a tractor.  It was bumpy.  There were so many low-lying branches, we became adept at yelling "BRANCH!" and everyone on the cart ducking in synchronicity.  The road was narrow, with sheer cliff drops off the side, and steep mountain passes ahead.  But the views were utterly breathtaking in every direction, and between our singalongs and constant laughter, the hour long trip up the alps passed quickly.

We arrived at the farm, carved into the hillside and were greeted by our van-travellers, and a goat stampede. 

Between the nosy goat,

the attention-whore donkey who nibbled at everyone's clothing and nosed into every photograph possible,

and the thieving cow who attempted to steal the handbags from the van, there was much entertainment value.

Add the warmest hosts imaginable, a table full of homemade Barbera, sausages, cured meats and goat cheese, and these gastronomes were in heaven.  Satiated and tired, we made our way back down the mountain in our little tractor cart three hours later than planned.

No one complained.    In fact, this might have to rate as my best day ever.