We set out for Cuneo, an hour drive from Barolo. It’s a city of over 100,000 at the base of the Maritime Alps, not far from the French border. The drive drops us out of the hilly wine country and onto a flat plain. Cuneo, itself, sits on a high plateau (cuneo means wedge). Founded in about 1200, it changed hands lots of times as the French, Swiss and Austrians came and went. Its wide boulevards and formal architecture are reminiscent of Turin’s and have a definite French feel.
We have lunch at ‘4 Ciance’ on a narrow pedestrian street. The proprietor very much wants to speak 
English and is happy to hear that we came all the way from Seattle to eat at his restaurant. I’m sure not too many Americans find his cozy place. The other diners – local businessmen – appear to be regulars.
I am definitely slowing down. One course is all I can
My ‘Cruset” of the Stura valley with sausage ragu
handle, and I order the local pasta – an orechiette shape, made with fresh pasta. It is very pillowy.
Mark goes for the tasting menu again. How does he do it? Our host chooses a Nebbiolo and a
Mark’s gnocchi with Castelmagno cheese
Barbaresco to go with our lunch. Every dish is just what it should be. As we leave, the proprietor accompanies us onto the street to wish us a good time in Cuneo. Everyone we’ve come in contact with so far has been welcoming and charming. Great people!
Mark’s beef in Barolo wine
Mark’s bunet (chocolate flan) with home-made ice cream
The Tuesday market fills Piazza Galimberti, Cuneo’s huge main square, with hundreds of vendors selling clothes and housewares.
On one corner of the piazza is the Arione Chocolate shop, famous for their Cuneesi al Rhum, large rum-laced pralines. Their window features a picture of 
Ernest Hemingway who stopped in to buy a box.
Down the street is the Gelateria Corso with 20 or more flavors and ice cream cakes that are works of art. Somehow I 
make room for three flavors – marron glace, chocolate and waferino. Mark has his dish crowned with whipped cream.
Glorious excess!!
I’ll bet the gnocchi served at Tony’s in Bremerton is not even close!
Earl, I think you’re right.