When we first arrived in Italy, I was utterly underwhelmed with the quality of the pumpkins most commonly-found in our local shops. Vast, watery, fibrous slices of nothingness.

I now grow my own – which is easy and gives you the bonus extra of those big edible yellow flowers that you can stuff and deep-fry – but, especially in the UK, pretty well all supermarkets sell those acorn-shaped Butternut squashes, which are just fine for this recipe.

The list of ingredients for this roast pumpkin soup could hardly be be any shorter.
For two people, you'll need:
– 500g of peeled pumpkin.
– 1 litre of good chicken or vegetable stock. For this particular recipe, home-made is best – or you can buy good bottled and gel stocks in supermarkets.

After peeling your pumpkin – a potato-peeler does the job perfectly – cut it in half; scoop out the seeds and and any fibrous bits and throw them away; cut each of the two halves into two of three chunks; put them in a roasting tray; pour over a tablespoon or two of olive oil and ensure each chunk is coated; then put into an oven heated to 200˚C and roast – turning once or twice – for about 50 minutes.

By this time, your chunks will be soft and attractively flecked with golden brown.

Why roast them ? Pumpkins contain a lot of water, which is cooked-out when they're roasted, concentrating the flavours and caramelising the veggie's natural sugars. This reduces it to a perfect sweet fudginess.

The roasting process also turns the colour of the pumpkin's flesh to a rich, deep orange, which makes the soup look extremely appetising too.

At this point, put the pumpkin chunks and half the stock into a food processor and bltz until smooth. If the result's a little thick for your taste, add more stock until you get your preferred consistency.

Or, if you don't have a processor, simmer the chunks in half the stock until really soft, then use a hand-blender. Again, add more stock as required.

Some salt and black pepper to taste; reheat (but don't allow it to boil) – and that's basically it.

But not quite…

Though this soup's very good just as it is, there's a whole host of little extras that can make it outstanding. – before roasting, rub a half-teaspoon of Five Spice Powder; or Ground Cumin Seeds; or Ground Cinnamon; or Mixed Spice into the raw pumpkin chunks along with the oil.

And to serve, add one or two of the following:
– a dollop of cream; creme fraiche; fromage frais; or plain yoghurt
– chopped, toasted hazelnuts or almonds
– chopped crispy bacon or pancetta
– finely grated parmesan
– croutons

This actually gives you a vast number of flavourful permutations But resist the temptation to add everything. More is not necessarily better !

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As with the other ten already blogged, the usual advice to treat the price guide as just that – a guide. The prices I mention are roughly what the two of you would pay for a couple of courses each; a litre – or bottle – of house wine; water and coffee.

Cantina del Tripio, Via Tripio 101, Guardiagrele. 0871 83072
"Quirky" is the word that sums up the Cantina. The Mamma of owner Nicola does the cooking and what's on offer on any given night pretty much depends on what she feels like preparing – which Nico will then dutifully recite to you. So no menu. And even what's bubbling away in the kitchen can be adapted to how you'd like it, so this really is eating like an Italian. The food's very good. The surroundings are a soothing pale blue. And it's not expensive. About €45.

Il Bosco della Meraviglie, Via Nazionale 77, Selva di Altino. 872 985765. Closed Monday.
Our nearest good pizzeria, but maybe not quite as good as the slightly further away Il Ghiottone blogged last time. But the Bosco's still an excellent choice. World and European Pizza Champions in 2005 no less. Had a bit of a dip in form in 2008/9, but have since bounced back extremely well with a revamped menu of red and white pizzas; some exceptional pasta dishes – gorgonzola and fresh pomodorini is utterly sublime – and a majestic, if pricey, Bistecca Fiorentina, served with all the bells and whistles and appropriate ceremony. Usefully, open for lunch – but, last time we went, for pasta and meat only. Pizza/Pasta about €30. Meat about €50+

La Vecchia Collina, Via Santa Lucia 92, Sant'Eusanio del Sangro. 0872 757198
If you want the full-on, genuine, no-holds-barred Abruzzo eating experience, this is the place to come. The Vecchia Collina is an agriturismo that makes absolutely no concessions to non-Abruzzese. Fizzy and still mineral water, red wine, fizzy lemonade – and one glass apiece – appear on your table within seconds of you arriving. Then antipasti in heroic and unending number. You may not like a few of them. But you'll enjoy most. Then pasta. Then char-grilled meat. (But you can opt-out of the food blitz any time you like). Then bottles of digestivi arrive. Help yourself. Quite small. Highly friendly. Very well run. Jammed every night. Must book. About €40

Taverna 58, Corso Manthone 46, Pescara. 085 4515695. Closed Saturday lunch and Sunday.
If you're having a day out in Pescara, this is the place to go for lunch when the city closes between 1300 and 1600. In one of the two surviving streets in Pescara's old town, Taverna 58 is a much-loved Pescara institution. A restaurant since 1980 – but for many years before that, a bar – this is where you'll eat from a menu that hasn't really changed much since the opening. And prepared by pretty much the same kitchen staff too ! Split levels; lots of photos and other memorabilia on the walls; and tables tucked here and there give a cosy, intimate feel. A favorite of local business people – but decidedly unstuffy. There's a daily fixed-price lunch menu – or eat a la carte. From about €45.

Il Cavaluccio. Torino di Sangro Marina. 0872 60196
A hugely enviable position at the sea's edge with an in-your-face view of one of this coastline's iconic trabocco fishing platforms, the Cavaluccio's a bit of a victim to its own success in high summer, when an outside eating area added to an already spacious interior can lead to creaky service and the occasional dip in quality. Especially good for lunch – arrive early and grab one of the window tables. Good fishy antipasti and especially good house pasta too. And you can take it for granted the fritto misto will be up to scratch as well. As with all Adriatic fish restaurants, check what's not on the menu for any specials. About €50

That's fifteen good places to eat now listed – proof positive that you can come here for a fortnight and eat out somewhere different every day of your Abruzzo holiday !

More suggestions soon…

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La Bottega dei Miracoli. Piazza Garibaldi 14, Sulmona. 0864 212055
Sulmona is a lovely old town a couple of hours to the south-west of us, reached by a drive through some of Abruzzo's most spectacular scenery. La Bottega's a great place for a lazy summer lunch, sitting outside under a big shady umbrella with great views out onto the Piazza Garibaldi and Sulmona's encircling mountains. It's one of the very nicest places we know where to eat outdoors. Service is friendly; pasta and meat dishes a distinct cut-above regular trattoria fare; and prices reasonable. About €55

Villa Maiella. Via Sette Dolore, Guardiagrele. 0871 809319. Closed Monday. Must book
This is where you go locally for that special meal – especially for lunch in summer, when you can sit outside on their lovely shady terrace with views of the Majella National Park. Rather elegant and smart – but friendly too, as you're greeted with a glass of Prosecco on the house. The food here is a modern take on traditional Abruzzo cooking – and delicious. The lamb prepared in five different ways was to die for. Wine list has some stratospheric prices – but many good, fairly-priced bottles too. About €90

La Lumaca. Via delle Caserme 51, Pescara. 085 451 0880. Closed Sunday
'La Lumaca' means 'the snail' – a good name for a restaurant that's a member of Italy's renowned 'Slow Food' movement, formed in the mid-1980's as a reaction to the ever-growing trend for 'fast food'. Smart interior; food good – esp the cheese-tasting platter – and a really entertaining setting, in the last surviving fragment of Pescara's old town, which positively hums each evening. About €70

Locanda La Quercia. Via Quercia del Santissimi 16, Piane d'Arche. 0872 898468. Closed Tuesday
One of the better local agriturismi, with the tried-and-trusted agri fare of plentiful antipasti; good pasta; and char-grilled meat. As with all agriturismi, everything you eat will be home-produced. In winter, sit by a huge fire in the 'old' part of the restaurant, drink rough red wine and just enjoy the experience. About €40

Dal Ghiottone. Via Passo Lanciano, Piane d'Arche. 0872 896430
How can you fail to love a place to eat called 'The Glutton' ! Just about half-a-mile away from La Quercia, reached across a disused railway line and housed in a former church, this is what every Italian pizzeria should be like. Buzzy atmosphere; checked table-cloths; and a wood-fired oven in a corner of the restaurant turning out the best pizzas in our immediate area. Very good pasta too, should you ever want a change. And have an order of Olive Ascolane to nibble while you choose from the 30-odd pizzas on offer. Exceptional value as well. About €30

Five more recommended Abruzzo restaurants coming soon…

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A summer-long drought had resulted in trees dotted with under-sized olives. And though welcome October rains had caused these to swell a little, the gloomy predictions were that the quantity of this year's harvest would be down; and the quality variable.

Then harvesting our trees became problem-ridden. Within five minutes of starting, the large compressed-air 'hands' that strip the olives from the branches and onto nets spread under the trees had broken.

The rest of the morning was a catalogue of frustration as Rocco and I drove off to get a new part; came back and found we couldn't fit it; which then necessitated yet another hour-long round trip back to find someone who could. Which we did. Eventually.

Having started at 8.00, we should've been finished and rewarding ourselves with a well-earned beer by about noon. As it was, by noon we'd cleared precisely one tree.

We finished a little after three. "Hmmm," said Rocco, surveying eight boxes full of our olives, "these look quite good."
"How much d'you think we've got ?" I asked.
"Hmm. 150-160 kilos ?' he guessed. Ever the optimist.

In fact, our crop weighed-in at 123 kilos. And these yielded 15 litres of oil. So basically, despite all the predictions of doom'n'gloom, pretty much the same as last year.

The oil's a little lighter this time – a glorious light golden colour. And as for the taste ? Pauline and I dunked crusty local bread into this golden puddle and slurped it greedily.

Organic. Unfiltered. And traditionally-made, crushing the olives between two huge granite wheels. It doesn't wring the last tiniest drop of oil from each olive as more modern production methods do. But it tastes much, much better.

I know we're biased, but it really and truly is utterly, utterly delicious.

And it's undeniably satisfying that this is our very own oil from our very own trees, with the entire production process from tree to olive mill and back again all taking place within less than a mile of our Abruzzo home.

Best of all, as last year, this'll be the 'house oil' we supply to all our villa guests.

Incidentally, if you'd like to see how it's all done – take a look at the video I shot last year. Nothing's changed !

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Aside from 'Where's best for walking ?', 'Where's good to eat ?' is the question we get asked most frequently by Villasfor2 guests.

It's a harder question than you might think. Not because there's a shortage of good places – but because there are almost too many.

Our part of southern Abruzzo offers so many good quality, good value places to eat that you could quite literally stay here for a month; go somewhere different every night; and barely scratch the surface of what's on offer.

You'll see the blog's called 'Five Top Abruzzo Restaurants'. Not 'The Top Five Abruzzo Restaurants.' You can find those by looking in a guide. Allegedly.

No. The five restaurants listed below are all places where we've eaten; enjoyed it; and would go again. And we do.

When I've listed this five, I'll list five more. And then five more; and then even more. There are quite a few. And why only southern Abruzzo ? Because Abruzzo's a big region – and we don't know the north particularly well.

Treat the guide prices for two I've given with caution. Such is the menu choice open to you in any restaurant, that even in the smartest place, you can have either just a bowl of pasta and a glass of house wine; or a four-course feast with a couple of pricey bottles. Bills can vary wildly as a result.

To start the ball rolling and in no particular order…

Le Maschere. Via Garibaldi 56, Tollo. 0871 961810. Closed Tue.
By a very narrow margin, the unique square pizzas emerging from the wood-fired oven at Le Maschere, (pumpkin and gorgonzola is an inspired combo), are the best we've eaten in Abruzzo so far. Don't be put off by the slightly dingy bar at the front. Out back is a spacious and rather smart eating area. Pasta and meat too. Pizza and wine/beer about €30.

Agriturismo del Sole. Cda Monte Secco 1, Torino di Sangro. 0873 913292. Open only Wed thru Sat for dinner; and Sun only for lunch.
Real skill at work in the kitchen with inventive antipasti – the variety of fresh ricotta is especially good – plus the regular agriturismo staples of home-produced pasta and meat. Excellent mixed dessert platter. Tiny restaurant; booking's always advisable – and nb that during the grape and olive harvests, it may be closed completely. About €45

La Sirenella. Via Lungomare 70, Fossacesia Marina. 0872 607146. Closed Tue.
Winter opening times variable.
One of the better fish restaurants that line our stretch of the Adriatic. Gorgeous location, with an umbrella-shaded terrace right on the beach. Excellent antipasti misti and fritto misto as you'd expect – but if it's on the menu, try the ombrina, a white fish roasted with potatoes, rosemary and olives. About €60

Lu Piccione. Via Sciorilli 2, Sant'Eusanio. 0872 757589. Closed Tue
Beloved by all Villasfor2 guests – and us – this is our nearest good place to eat. Sit outside in summer; inside by a big open fire in winter. Home-made Pappardelle with porcini mushrooms, sausage and truffle; and Chittara with gorgonzola and slivers of sweet red pepper are worth the airfare on their own. About €40

Ai Vecchi Sapori. Via Ravizza 16, Lanciano. 0872 712184. Closed Mon
OK, point a gun at my head and ask which is my favorite Abruzzo restaurant. It's this one. Lovely atmosphere; interesting layout with part of the kitchen actually in the restaurant; and a top-notch menu based on Italy's 'slow food' movement. The main-course braises are the speciality. Rabbit, wild boar, lamb and beef all exceptional. Come to that, the antipasti and pasta (nb the timbale) are great too. About €70.

More soon. Mangiate bene !

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This blog's really a favour to my friend Pierino, who's building a brand-new house just outside Lanciano and reckons it might appeal to the discerning readers AboutAbruzzo attracts.

Funnily enough, in one particular way, he could possibly be right.

First, the estate-agency bit. This is a very big build on a very big plot. The house will be some 500 square metres – or if you prefer, around 5,400 square feet – on a plot of 12,000 square metres. Which is just a nudge under 3 acres.

Big.

And as for Location, Location, Location, depending on your vision, the plot's either a gorgeous garden, or vineyard, or olive grove in waiting.

Or just a jungle in need of a man with an earth-mover.

But an undisputed plus is that a 10-minute drive will see you in the middle of Lanciano. Less than an hour from Pescara airport and one of our favorite towns.

What Pierino plans to do is finish the construction up to the point where the walls are up and the roof's on and then stop.

The idea being that the fortunate new owner can then complete it to their liking.

For this, Pierino will be happy to relieve you of something like €360,000. And if you feel like getting him to finish it all off for you to the stage where you get the front door key, walk in, kick your shoes off and put the kettle on for a cup of tea, be prepared to sit down and with trembling hand, write him a cheque for €600,000.

Yes, bearing in mind that the average family would need a satnav to find each other in this vast edifice, I think that's pretty unlikely too.

But…

Remembering the never-ending popularity of those TV shows about property development, this project might just be one to bring a gleam to the eye of some thrusting entrepreneur.

How ? To my simplistic way of looking at it, with three massive levels, this property could easily be split into three generously-sized units of around 165 square metres each.

Or 1776 square feet. How patriotic would that be for anyone from the US seeking an Italian base ?

A little modest negotiation on the current €360,000 asking price; a little budgetary restraint in bringing the project to completion; and an asking price of a much more realistic €225,000 or so for each of the three resulting units would enable a reasonable return.

Drop me a line if it tickles your fancy and I'll let Pierino know.

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The olive groves, fields and woods around us are home to a small number of cats and back in June, one of these decided that the shrubs outside our kitchen window would be the ideal spot to raise her new litter of three kittens.

They were a sorry little quartet. The mother wasn't much more than a kitten herself. Tiny and in poor condition, very thin; her coat dull and matted; and clearly struggling with the demands placed on her by three kittens who were also not in perfect health.

So we started feeding her – we couldn't not – and that helped her considerably – and her kittens too. But while they were safe enough when still tiny and never straying too far from her, as they got older and grew, they became stronger and more adventurous.

But with this new-found mobility and a kitten's insatiable curiosity, the dangers to them increased. One by one, they simply weren't there anymore.

The little cat would call for her kittens and try to find them. We didn't see her for three or four days after the last of them disappeared. Then one morning she was there again in the usual place we left her food and water. And she's still here. Now sleek, glossy and black. And just a little less wild.

At first, she'd hiss at you and run away if you approached her; waiting until she was sure you'd gone back into the house before she'd risk returning to eat her food.

Eventually, for the sake of convenience, we started to feed her right outside the house, finding a secluded spot for her among the potted plants around our front door.

Every morning now, she's there, sitting on a large stone waiting for her breakfast.

She doesn't run away from us anymore – but neither does she let us get too near. Get inside her comfort zone of about a meter and she'll edge away.

She'll never be a cat you can pick up and stroke – but she's discovered she has a voice. Initially she was virtually silent; now she's quite chatty.

But you have to accept that dealing with a feral cat is always going to be pretty much a one-way relationship. You give. They take. One day, like her kittens, she too might simply not be there anymore.

It's been easy enough to administer some basic care by grinding up worming tablets and mixing these in with her food. But there's a reluctance on our part to interfere too much.

Because she'll never be a 'house cat', we'll never be able to assume the responsibility for her total well-being as we do with our own cats.

I don't think she'll ever lose her wariness of us. And I don't think we'd want her to either. We'd rather she kept the feral cat survival instincts that have served her well so far through her short life.

So our part of the deal is to feed her, (but we know she still hunts); and now the colder, wetter weather's arrived, we've fixed up somewhere under cover for her to sleep; and if she ever got too ill to look after herself, we'd find a way of capturing her and having her treated.

Her part of the deal is letting us do this.

And because she's now our 'outdoor cat'; and because we couldn't go on referring to her as "she"; or "it"; or "the little cat", she now has a name.

Shadow.

It suits her.

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I've posted this recipe before, but a delicious bowl last night convinced me it was worth a re-run as the prelude to a semi-regular soupy series I have planned for the winter.

Though at first sight this exceptionally easy recipe might seem Italian, it's perhaps best described as "Mediterranean Fusion', because there's one key, must-have, non-Italian ingredient without which the soup doesn't exactly fail -  but just doesn't taste the same.

That ingredient is Spanish Pimenton Picante, which adds an irreplaceable smoky spiciness to this soup and a delectable brick-red colour to the final result.

You can just about get away with using a pinch or two of dried chillis as a substitute – but it doesn't provide the rich depth of colour and distinctive flavour that Pimenton Picante bestows.

The good news is that proper Spanish Pimenton Picante is very easy to find – either locally to where you live in supermarkets or specialist food shops, or by mail order. It's not expensive, lasts a long time and it's well-worth the small effort.

You'll also need…

- 500g of the ripest sweet red peppers you can find. The very best to use are thin-skinned Italian ones as the big bell-pepper types give off lots of water while they're roasting

- 500g of ripe red tomatoes

- 400g tin of Borlotti beans

- 750ml of good chicken or vegetable stock.

- 1 rounded teaspoon of Spanish Pimenton Picante – or a pinch or two of dried chillis

- Olive oil

- Garlic

- (optional) 200g or so of finely shredded cold roast pork; or smoked ham; or – if you're in Italy – porchetta.

This is what you do:
– Heat your oven to 200C/400F
– De-seed your peppers and cut them into 4-6 chunks per pepper
– Cut your tomatoes in half and cut out any green cores. (They don't need any skinning or de-seeding).
Put the peppers and tomatoes into a roasting dish. Pour over a couple of good glugs of oil and with your hands, ensure that each chunk of veg gets an oily coating. Sprinkle over some salt and put into the oven.

Check after 25 mins. The tomatoes and peppers should be completely soft and any water given off should have cooked-away. Ideally some of the pieces should be a little brown round the edges, so if necessary give them another 10 mins at most.

In the meantime, take a large saucepan and pour in a about a tablespoon of oil.
– Place over a low heat and add one or two peeled, chopped or crushed cloves of garlic
– Open the beans. Rinse them in a sieve. Add half to the oil and garlic.
– Stir in the teaspoon of Pimenton Picante – or the dried chillis. (Not too many of the latter. We're looking for nothing more than a gentle warmth)
– Cook gently for 5 mins. Then turn off the heat. Pop a lid on the saucepan. And let it sit until the tomatoes and peppers are ready.

When they are, tip them into the saucepan. Pour half the stock into the saucepan too and use the rest to deglaze your roasting tray of all the delicious gooey bits that'll be left. Keep this aside for a moment.

Using a hand-blender, blitz the tomatoes, peppers, stock, beans and spices. The resulting texture is a matter of choice. I prefer it to be slightly coarse rather than having the soup completely smooth.

(You can of course use a food processor instead for this stage)

To the resulting soup, add all the remaining beans and enough of the remaining stock to give your preferred consistency. You're looking for a moderately thick soup, but by all means add a drop of water of you'd like to thin it down a little more.

If you have any shredded porky products, now's the time to add them – and any salt/pepper you judge necessary.

Simmer very gently, without allowing to boil, for 10 minutes and then eat with good, crusty bread.

This'll serve four people as a starter; or two as a main meal.

It freezes very well in the unlikely event you'll have any left.

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In our corner of Abruzzo, this year's olive harvest is due to start in about six weeks time. Except that it probably won't because the olives are nowhere near ready and the crop promises to be a tiny one.

Why ? Well, a little earlier this morning, we had our first rain since late June – and the 10-minute shower that flashed over us was scarcely enough to settle the dust.

And because of this summer-long drought, olives that should by now be plump with oily promise are no more than little green bullets, hard and mean, hanging limply from the trees.

It may even now be too late, but unless we get more rain soon to swell the fruit, the olives will scarcely be worth picking as their yield will be pitifully low.

In contrast, last summer's crop was a bumper one. Our ten trees gave us around 135 kilos of olives, which produced 18 litres of utterly delicious oil.

Plenty to meet our own needs and allow us to be liberal with the bottles we leave for guests in each of our villas.

We'll always provide complementary olive oil – it's just so much nicer when it's our very own !

And if the olive situation's bad – the position with grapes is even worse.

By now, the harvest should be at its height. Round here, it hasn't even started yet.

The grapes that we grow in our orchard just for eating shriveled up into sultanas long ago. In commercial vineyards, it's scarcely any better. Rain within the next week or so might just save the day – but it's going to be a desperately close-run thing.

Small yields can produce top-notch wines, but with some growers, it might end-up being a case of 'no yields' rather than 'small yields'.

This might have been a great year to take a holiday in the unbroken sunshine we've had in this part of Abruzzo. But for farmers, it's been the worst year that any can remember.

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So far this year at Villasfor2, we've had one visitor we really could have done without. A wild boar who decided that our Abruzzo garden – and our neighbour's vegetable patch – were ideal ports of call on its nightly piggy perambulations.

The olive leaves – a by-product of the autumn's olive harvest – we use to thickly mulch our shrubs and roses had been deeply furrowed by the boar's snout as it rooted around for tasty grubs and worms.

Though this was vexing enough to see and time-consuming enough to make good, aside from a couple of snapped-off branches, there was no lasting damage done.

Our neighbour wasn't so lucky. His potato crop disappeared and a patch of wheat became progressively levelled as the boar returned on each of the next four nights.

It's currently outside the hunting season, so taking a pot-shot at piggy wasn't an option, though the local farmers – many of whom reported damage to crops and orchards – argued the toss as to what would happen if a shot fired to scare the porker away instead were to kill it.

The kind of hypothetical discussion point that Italians love nearly as much as football.

My neighbor shrugged stoically as each morning he arrived to survey the night's damage. Boars will be boars, seemed to be the attitude.

I decided to be a little more proactively persuasive in pursuit of repelling this unwelcome porcine attention.

I bought a cheap radio which as dusk fell, I tuned into the worst Europop station I could find, turned the volume to maximum and hung in a tree.

I then illuminated the most-favoured rooting area of our garden with a 500 watt spotlight.

Averting my eyes from the dazzling glare and trying to ignore the awful music carried on the night breeze, I assured our guests that this was pig prevention on a new and innovative scale, rather than some bizarre Abruzzo son e lumiere display.

And guess what ? It worked ! The next morning, not so much as a blade of grass had been touched.

Piggy decided that a floodlit dinner with musical accompaniment wasn't for him (or her) and didn't come back. And with nothing now left worth eating in next door's veg patch, it seems to have left our area.

But I'm still nervously eyeing the sweetcorn crop in our own veggie patch as I'm told that this is the all-time wild boar number one favorite snack product.

It might yet be a race to see who gets to eat it first – him or us.

Incidentally, the picture illustrating this blog is of a wild boar. Not the wild boar. They all look pretty much the same and I knew you wouldn't mind…

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