Up here at Villa Sconita we receive occasional dispatches from the civilization we recently left. Occasional as in every time we look at our phones… But never mind. We see that a lot of you came to il Bel Paese this summer, with a fair number visiting our big attractions like RomeFlorenceVenice(RFV), and venturing to Rick Steves-approved sites like the Cinque Terre. And cousins of mine weren’t too far away at one point from our aerie here and then headed south to Sorrento. I’m fine with that, really. We have a dog.

We have access to webcams, and the hot spots looked very crowded. And from personal experience, we know that touring Italy in the summer is not a good thing for those averse to extremely hot weather. And climate change only ramped up the heat. My phone was pinging me almost every hour about extremely hot temperatures, courtesy of the Italian Meteorological Service, a unit of the national air force (really). And that was here, where we’re surrounded by trees, shrubs, and other flora, and we are not surrounded by other people. I think I worked up a sweat just gazing at the Trevi Fountain crowd on my laptop screen.

You probably ate, too. With any luck, you ate fairly well, although in those tourist traps, I mean popular destinations, the food can be hit or miss. My cousins who didn’t come this way seem to have done pretty well for themselves, judging from their posts on “il social,” as we say ’round these parts. But sorry, I have to say, they were in cities, big cities and/or popular cities. You can only get so far. And restaurant workers in the touristy places have acquired bad habits, like expecting a tip from Americans and other non Italians. We don’t tip out here in the provinces.

I’ll get more serious now. It’s a different world here, with an entirely different culinary culture. In the United States, most decent restaurants are in big cities, which attract the best and most ambitious cooks and restaurateurs. Go outside New York or Boston or Chicago and you’ve got chain restaurants like Olive Garden, with the occasional brave indie that was featured on Guy Fieri’s Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. I exaggerate, but you get the point. In Italy, sure there are great city restaurants like the Osteria Francescana (I haven’t been, but I’ve seen the YouTube videos). But the really good and funky stuff is in people’s kitchens, and out in the sticks and smaller urban places.

For instance, earlier this summer a friend and I went up a mountain above the town of Gualdo Tadino, just because. We walked around a sanctuary and admired the view. That sure worked up an appetite, so he suggested we go to Villa Dama, a nearby agriturismo his daughter’s in-laws go to for celebratory occasions. I called for a table (they had plenty that day) and 20 minutes later we were walking the place’s beautiful grounds. Nice lunch, too, multi-course with wine, for €40 apiece. And that’s relatively posh for this area (photos below).

Traveling outside the big centers doesn’t limit your tastebuds, either. You might think you’ll have to eat “Italian food.” The towns near us (the biggest being the small university city of Perugia) feature Greek, Japanese, Chinese, and African food, and even an ersatz American barbecue chain. (But us mostly vegetarian types haven’t tried it.)

I’M LUCKY. I KNOW THAT. I have family here, and chosen family, too. Most of my meals before we move to Umbria took place in their kitchens and dining rooms. The day my grandmother turned 90 we had a banquet at a country restaurant that night. The party meal was of a zillion courses and I thought it was pretty good, but the critics at home (one uncle was a chef) had issues. I’ve watched my brilliant Perugian mamma create simple delicious meals in a half hour in her small kitchen. When I started peeling a ripe pear she motioned for me to wait a sec and broke off a piece of Parmigiano-Reggiano to go with it. Simple. Perfect. My Venetian aunt invited us over once and she and her daughters created an amazing 10-dish array of cicchetti—think Venetian tapas. And so on.

You don’t need a Venetian aunt, though. You do need to be a little adventurous. Get away from RFV. Get on a train or rent a car—it’s not scary driving out in the countryside, I promise. Find an agriturismo, a working farm that puts people up and feeds them. We’re surrounded by them here, and they aren’t hard to find. Go to the website With Locals and set up dinner or a cooking class with real live Italians. Even in restaurants, though, the feeling is different away from the aforementioned RFV. Service is casual and really friendly and the tab is a fraction of what it would be in RFV. You’ll find yourself chatting with the proprietor once they realize you’re from elsewhere. You might end up exchanging recipes, too.

Above, the out in the sticks experience. Clockwise, the first two photos are at Osteria del Cambio in Palazzo di Assisi. And we had the antipasto plate and the truffle lasagne at La Terrazza di San Guido, a laid-back restaurant in the hills above the town of Gualdo Tadino.

For the ultimate in getting down with the peeps, seek out local sagras and festivals. You can get a good start here. I’ve written about them before, but to sum up, it’s how a town might raise money for the school’s gym, but in reality it’s a celebration of people’s towns, local culture and produce. The other night we went to the shindig in our town; the week before we went up in the mountains to a town that grows fantastic potatoes. Of course, almost every dish featured the spuds. (Text continues below photo.)

Here’s the thing. Travel like this and you’ll get to know what the real treasure of this country is. Not the Coliseum, not the Vatican or Florence’s art treasures. You’ll likely get to hang out with the people, who despite bad governments, annoying bureaucracy, and anemic economic growth somehow manage to be kind, generous of spirit, and a pleasure to be around.