As you may have read in our last blog entry, Piping For The Soldiers, we love to travel as a family and feel that it is one of the most important experiences that we can give to our children.  Our trip to see the beaches of Normandy really got us thinking about our place in the world and reminded us of an extraordinary experience we had on a family trip to Italy.

A few years ago, actually ten, The Bosca family was spending a spring vacation in Florence, Italy (definitely a family favorite)!  Mario and Nicholas were 6 and 3   respectively and we were enjoying a fun filled visit full of weapon museums for Nicholas and Ferrari stores for Mario.  To Chris and I it was a time of feeling a bit strange to be Americans out in the world.  To many Europeans, Americans were not very popular and we wondered what people were thinking or feeling about having us there.  We found ourselves wondering where we really fit in and how the image of Americans was changing.  It was a wonderful trip with an undertone of uncertainty.

After a day of comparative gelato-ing  (a family expression), seeing cool stuff in the Bargello, walking through the Central Market, having more gelato, eating Panini on the curb in the Piazza Signoria, playing some soccer in the piazza with some Italian students, and having a short rest, we went to a favorite Pizzaria down the street from our apartment.

Upon entering it was clear that we were the only Americans dinning there that night.  We were seated and Chris and I had a delicious Chianti and the boys were feeling very lucky to have been able to order their favorite Fantas.  Now I will say here that our darling children are not absolutely perfect as their grandparents might tell you, but they do have very nice table manners and they know how to act in an adult situation.  We were talking and laughing amongst ourselves but I was a little uncomfortable due to the man a few tables over who was watching us very closely.  I tried to ignore him the best I could but I felt his eyes on us as I ate my way through my gorgonzola pizza.  Chris, Mario, and Nicholas all became aware of his stares and we could not figure out what we were doing that was causing him to watch our every move.

At the end of his dinner, the gentleman approached out table.  He was elderly and dignified looking, and he was accompanied by what looked to be his grandson.  He asked us if we were Americans.  We had already been feeling defensive, so we answered yes with some hesitation.    He spoke in English, perfect but heavily accented with French.   He said:

“thank you for being Americans, and for all that America has done for the world in the past, all that you are doing at the present, and all that you will do in the future.”

I was so stunned I could not answer.  How I wish that I could go back and tell him how much I appreciated his words.  He quietly left us with our jaws on the floor.  I felt such strong emotions.  Of course we cannot always know that what we, as a nation, are doing is correct, and will have the best influence on the course of history, and many times we may do the wrong thing.  But we do stand for our values, often with courage and bravery.

Knowing what is really right and wrong in the world today seems to be more complicated and less black and white to me all the time.  This man’s viewpoint was very clear and very passionate.   It was born out of his personal experience in WWII.   He made us feel both humble and proud at the same time.   We can’t go back in time, but today we would like to thank this man, and the French for remembering.

Everywhere we went, each and every battle zone or memorial or beach, was accompanied by facts of the area as well as a perspective from our 12 year old’s eyes. We were able to learn about history and weapons and dates of certain battles.  At one display of weapons at the Atlantic Wall museum, Nicholas named perfectly all 25 guns in under 1 minute….really, we have it on video! There are pages and pages of things to tell about this trip, but I will stick to one very special day.

We arrived at the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach and were awestruck by the hundreds and hundreds of exquisite white crosses and the gigantic American flag waving in the crisp air.  We were blessed with an extraordinary day with sunshine and blue sky.  Seeing those white crosses against the azure sky gave me a feeling of being very small in a large world.  A strange, well not strange, but a new feeling came over me.  It was one of immense pride.  I have always admired our US service men and women, but being in that cemetery was the closest I have ever felt to what national pride really is for me.

We arrived at the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach and were awestruck by the hundreds and hundreds of exquisite white crosses and the gigantic American flag waving in the crisp air.  We were blessed with an extraordinary day with sunshine and blue sky.  Seeing those white crosses against the azure sky gave me a feeling of being very small in a large world.  A strange, well not strange, but a new feeling came over me.  It was one of immense pride.  I have always admired our US service men and women, but being in that cemetery was the closest I have ever felt to what national pride really is for me.
Nicholas had dreamed of honoring our soldiers in that Cemetery for a long time so he had packed up his bagpipes, kilt, and the rest of his stuff and brought it on our trip.  After receiving permission, Nicholas chose a spot in the cemetery and dressed in full regalia, played the most beautiful version of Amazing Grace bringing tears to the eyes of more people than just his mom and dad. Playing his bagpipes in that cemetery was the best way that he could show his admiration and gratitude.  For Chris and me, it was a moment in time that we will treasure and keep in our pockets forever.

Note from Christopher:
My father Mario spoke very little about his experience in the US Navy, and for some reason I did not ask about it.  I am proud to see that Nicholas comprehends the importance of these historical events, and the contributions that so many veterans have made to preserve our freedoms.

Just the other day, we were sitting around talking about how it seems that during the summer we all tend to go off on our own a bit more, wander, and coast a bit more. The end of summer just feels like the close of another year. And with the arrival of autumn, we seem to fall into new more energetic patterns…and the beginning of our Bosca Year.

The beginning of this year has started out with a major change for the Creative Team. We’ve closed the doors of our much-loved office on Marconi Blvd in Columbus, Ohio. Although a little sad, we are sooooo excited to be moving into our new building on Oak Street in the near future. (Crossing fingers on the “near” part).

Usually golden reds come with the autumn season and the dusting of white comes with winter…but I am almost positive that the City Building department may present me a heavy dose of white (hair) early.

But the end is in sight, and soon we will be moving in!!

The building is really cool. It was originally built in 1876 and has changed hands and purposes throughout the years. It definitely is/was in need of a bit of love but I knew with a bit of tender attention and renovation, it would make a fantastic creative space.

We’ve picked out some fabulous reclaimed materials too- like the 100+ year old oak flooring. These planks are planed from old Ohio barns that are beyond repair.

We can’t wait to get into our new space, spread out all of our swatches, samples, prints, drawings, cuttings, clippings. We haven’t even moved in and it’s already a happy, creative mess.

A long long time ago, in a town that little resembles the town that it once was then; I took my wife-to-be on our first date. At that time there were only a few pretty good restaurants in the area and only a couple of very good ones. Our first date was to be a very cute little family owned and run Italian place.

This was when I discovered that one of the foods that was near and dear to my heart (and stomach) had never experienced by my future betrothed NOR was she feeling any deep need or care to try them.

Well that answer just didn’t work for me… she HAD to at least TRY them.

So I ordered.
And she tried.
And then I had to apologize.

You see, as much credit as the little Italian place got for having roasted peppers on the menu, they were not what I had talked them up to be. Without going into specifics, let’s just say that I was nervous that I would never get another chance to introduce Courtney-hail-from-the-meat-and-potatos-midwest-by-way-of British-ancestry to the sensuous and comforting foods of the Italian peninsula…not to mention another date.

The date must have gone well enough because later that summer I had the opportunity to make roasted peppers for her myself.  I still recall meticulously picking out those peppers from a North Market farmer’s stall…slicing and roasting them to perfection…drizzling the plate with the perfect amount of Italian olive oil.

I am happy to report that I was victorious!! Courtney fell head-over-heels in love with those peppers while simultaneously falling in love with me! (Okay, maybe I am ahead of myself there…)

Over the years, this became a signature dish for us as a couple. We served them at summer parties large and small.  Sometimes we would have the peppers as an appetizer, sometimes as an accompaniment to a risotto al’asaparagi or summery lemon pasta- but always with the best olive oil we could find.

To make the peppers do the following:

Get good ripe red peppers.  If you want to add a few yellow peppers for color that would be nice too. (Green peppers simply do not exist for me. They are unripe red peppers. They are not really food yet, so leave them alone.)

Place the peppers on a rack in an oven set to at least 475 degrees. Alternatively you can place them under the broiler on a rack about 8” from the top.  Either way you will want a pan under the peppers to catch any liquid that drips out. The peppers can be done in an outdoor grill too, with good effect.  I say “in” a grill as opposed to on the grill because if you use an outdoor grill you should put them on a rack that is raised, or placed away from the direct heat.

Cooking is not so much by time as by appearance. The skins should be largely darkened- even blackened. This does not mean that there is no red or yellow fruit showing, but these babies need to be cooked.

Turn the peppers a few times to make sure that they are cooked/charred on all sides.  The peppers should be puffed up in the oven but you should find that as soon as you lift them out they will collapse easily. You can test this while they are in the over by poking them gently.  We want them soft but firm enough that they are going to hold together.

When they look right remove them from the oven and put them directly into a large paper bag. Close the bag tightly. This is going to steam them just a bit, and you should find that due to this the skins will come off easily.

When they are cooled enough that you can handle them easily remove the skins with you hands. Most of the skin should, and needs to, come off but I have never made a fuss if a little bit of the skin sticks. This is your call.

Now cut a little circle around the stem at the top and scoop out the seeds. At this point I usually slice the peppers into about three equal sized parts. You can vary this depending on their use. Long thin slices make a pretty ingredient in a salad, or meat dish. For serving roast peppers as an antipasto I like three equal parts.

We have been married for almost 20 years and for most of that time our love story has included not only each other, our two boys, and numerous dogs and cats including Fausto, Hugo, Tagli (short for Tagliatelle) Rudy, and Luca, but many friends and associates from Italy, Uruguay and Argentina.

Our friends consider us big travelers, but really we just travel to the same places- mostly Italy due to our business- Bosca Accessories.

For years I have spent time working in Italy in the tanneries, small factories (aziende) and design studios in and around the area of Firenze.

As often as she can Court accompanies me and participates in the inspection of leather, the design process, and in viewing the important materials trade shows.

Every trip has been memorable, but one in particular several years ago included several other members of the Bosca design and creative staff. What a blast- and how productive that trip was. The idea was to be all together in Italy so that everyone would really “get” what it is that I think that makes Bosca special and different. The trip was impactful beyond my dreams.

It was on that trip that we decided that we wanted (needed!) to bring some of life this to all of our other friends/clients, customer. So… the blog. Stories from the trenches- if you consider research trips to small companies in the hills of Tuscany, testing leather, testing olive oils freshly pressed in the grey cold autumn months, and long Sunday lunches in between work weeks “the trenches.”

Shortly after Court and I were married we traveled to Italy with our friends Mike and Lisa McDonnell (Now authors of the fabulous food blog Tarte Du Jour) Lisa wrote us a note after that trip, thanking us for sharing “our” Italy. She got it. It is our Italy- everyone can have their own version if they find it and grab onto it- but this is ours. Our goal here is to share some of “our Italy” with you- and maybe some of “our Argentina too!

Our blog – it all starts with leather and the world of leather and leathergoods- the hands-on work that we do, but also the work of design, one view on how to live life, the food that we love and new foods that we encounter, travel, and what it means to us in our lives at home. It is a version of luxury based in experience, connection, and appreciation of something that is truly beautiful.

We have had the honor of being “insiders” in a wonderful and passionate country so there are some great stories. We hope that you will follow along on our adventures as we relate these stories past and present.