STEPPINGINSIDETHEFORNO, I'MSUDDENLY surrounded by the warm aromas of just-baked bread.Welcome back;' a Cortona woman greets me.Maybe I look dazed, having arrived last night from California, a twenty-hour ordeal, because she asks,What do you do for jet lag? I usually just wait it out. I'm so happy to be here that I don't notice it very much--just get up at four in the morning for a few days.What do you do? I stare at the sunset.Then the body knows I merely smile, but mentally I make a little bow to her. Maybe it's a small world, maybe we're in a global economy,and maybe we're slowly melting into one pot, but everyday life is still radically particular in rural Italy. Cut a slice any-where: It remains purely Italian.