Chris & the Art of the Last-Minute Dinner

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4/15/20252 min read

A Walk Through Chianni – Chris & the Art of the Last-Minute Dinner

How a simple grocery run turned into a Tuscan adventure (and a very good meal)

It started—as the best dinners do—with no plan at all. The sun was already sliding into late afternoon, time to organize dinner. Which is how Chris ended up jogging down the hill into Chianni, shopping list in one hand, market basket in the other, and two dogs mildly offended they weren’t invited. First Stop: The Butcher. No sign. Just a wooden door and the scent of rosemary. Chris steps in, explains the plan in a mix of Italian, hand gestures, and hopeful expression. The butcher nods. “A cena importante?”  Chris nods back. The butcher smiles and wraps up something that will need olive oil, fire, and time. Perfect.

Next: The Veggie Stall - Just a few steps down the street, crates of zucchini, tomatoes, lemons, and wild herbs spill onto the sidewalk. The older woman running the stall asks if it’s for friends. Chris says yes. She adds a handful of fresh basil, free of charge. “Per profumo,” she says. “For the scent.” And it does smell like something’s already cooking.

The Wild Card: Local Wine - On his way to the bakery, Chris is pulled into a tiny enoteca by a chalkboard sign that simply reads: Chianti Rosso. Cold. One bottle turns into three. Two are for the guests. One is “for the cook,” the shopkeeper insists.

The Finale: Fresh Bread & Unplanned Extras. The bakery is down a side street, still warm from the day’s baking. Chris grabs a loaf of saltless Tuscan bread, a few flaky pastries for breakfast, and one perfectly unnecessary chocolate tart that no one will regret later.

He’s about to head back when he remembers—he forgot the lemons.
He shrugs. “They’ll never know.” (Spoiler: Michaela always knows.)

Back Home: The Table is Set

The groceries are unpacked, the sun is setting, and something wonderful is already simmering. Kaya and Jila are under the table. Music is playing. The wine has disappeared into glasses and conversation. That’s the thing about life here—it doesn’t need to be perfect to be unforgettable.

Sometimes all it takes is a basket, a village, and a Chris on the run.