My Extended Roman Holiday

Culinary School

2011-04-17T22:27:00.000+02:00

After a year long hiatus from the blog world, I'm jumping back into the fray with a new blog -

SamsRomanKitchen.com

where I will be writing about my time Gambero Rosso, Italy's culinary institute based here in Rome.

Lost but Found Again

2010-02-26T18:41:00.000+01:00

Basilios Bessarione was an early Renaissance humanist scholar as well as tonsured monk. He spent the early part of his career in Constantinople trying to negotiate the differences between Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches which had been divided since 1054. He favored the Roman church and his view that the two churches could be easily reconciled did not bring him much favor in the Orthodox world, so he returned to Italy. In 1439 in Rome he became a cardinal. From then on he resided in Italy where he worked frequently as an envoy to foreign princes, most famously to Louis XI of France. He was held in high regard by his fellow cardinals and came close to the papacy in the election of 1455 but lost out because of his penchant for reform. He died in 1472 and was buried in Rome in the church of the Twelve Apostles.

However it is after his death where the story gets interesting.

His chapel was painted from 1464 to 1468 by Antoniazzo Romano who collaborated with Melozza da Forlí. By 1545 the frescoes were already partially covered over with a layer plaster that was put in place to stop the Tiber flood waters. By 1650 they were partially destroyed by Carlo Rianaldi's monumental altar dedicated to St. Anthony of Padua. In the 1720's the chapel was entirely lost to memory with the construction of Odescalchi chapel.

It was not until 1959, during some maintenance work on the adjacent palace, that the chapel was rediscovered. And it wasn't until 1996 that extensive excavations were completed and only in 2005 did the chapel open to the public.

The chapel, whose entrance is in the right aisle about half way down the nave, is viewed from two levels, with metal grates and glass floors allowing you to see the original foundations which date to the late 5th or early 6th century A.D. However the most interesting features are the frescoes. The space is very narrow and because of this you are hardly more than an arm's length from the images. This proximity makes pictures a little difficult but here are some of the best. There are two major images both depicting stories of the Archangel Michael.

The image above is the left side of the chapel and it confused me at first. If you look closely the arrows are actually coming at the bowmen, not flying away as they should be. As I read the sheet the nun who let us gave me the answer became clear. The bull they are aiming at is actually the Archangel Michael who appeared miraculously on Monte Gargano and when archers tried to take him down their arrows were repelled back at them.

The image on the left is a bit more complicated. It is set in France at Monte San Michele off the coast of France, where the Archangel also appeared as bull, barely visible in the top right corner of the image on the left. The setting is given away by the sandy ground, which, if you look closely, is covered in shells. At high tide that beach is under water, the island is only accessible by foot at low tide.

The image on the right shows a grouping of cardinals and bishops. The central figure with the gilded robes is Saint Auberto, bishop of Avranches, who had the dream of the bull appearing, and is depicted with the face of Cardinal Bessarione himself. Behind him stand two particularly interesting characters. In the purple robe, missing half his face, is Francesco Maria della Rovere and his nephew Giuliano della Rovere, who would later become Pope Sixtus IV and Pope Julius II, respectively. Quite powerful figures.

The chapel is a great example of how much Rome has to offer that we haven't even discovered yet. Behind any wall, under any floor board, there could be a long lost masterpiece waiting to be discovered. Fun to think about.

Risotto al Castelmagno

2010-02-25T22:29:00.000+01:00

serves 2

for the rice -
3 generous hand-fulls of white rice
100 grams grated Castelmagno DOC
2 tbsp olive oil
4 cups water
2 tbsp sea salt

for the sauce -
1 small carrot, diced
1/2 celery stalk, diced
1 cup wine of your choice - something with good body is better
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup flour

1. Put chopped veggies and wine in small pot and set on medium heat, let cook until reduces by half, about 20 minutes. At same time put water and salt in pot to boil.

2. In small sauce pan, heat 1/4 cup oil on medium heat and slowly whisk in flour. You need to whisk constantly and keep smelling it, once a rich nutty flavor comes out the reux is ready and came be put aside.

3. Heat 2 tbsp oil in medium size pot. Add rice and stir constantly with wood spoon until you start to hear it crackling, about 5 minutes.

4. Add about half the water to the rice and stir. Once it soaks all that up a little more. Repeat as necessary until rice is not longer hard. Turn the flame off and add the cheese. Stir until thoroughly mixed.

5. While doing step 4, finished the sauce. Strain the reduced wine to get ride of all the veggies, add back to the pan with the reux. Add the reux on tbs at a time until the sauce thickens a little, it probably won't take all the reux.

6. Put rice on plates in small mounds and drizzle sauce over in the pattern of your choosing. Drink the rest of the bottle you used for the sauce.

"Le parole sono superflue"

2010-02-25T22:17:00.000+01:00

One thing I've come to learn about myself, that many people have probably known for a long time, is that I'm very stubborn and when I get set to do something, little will divert me.

Yesterday I was in the market and came across a cheese I had been looking for for quite some time. It's called Castelmagno and comes from a small town in the western most corner of the Piedmont just a few miles from France. The cheese interested me because some months ago I had one of the more elegant meals I've had a restaurant in Rome and one of the dishes was Risotto al Castelmagno. A risotto Jillian and I agreed could change your life.

For awhile the name meant nothing to me. I thought it was merely from that town, until I found out about the cheese. It is only produced in smaller quantities and therefore comes with a pretty high price tag and is not found in many places.

Once I found the cheese I was determined to try to mimic this risotto. Unfortunately I had a dinner at a friend's last night. So, unable to wait until dinner tonight, the logical time for a large meal, I decided to devote a bit longer this afternoon to cooking. Little did I know what I was really getting myself into.

I have gotten quite good at making risottos of varying types and approached this like any others. I finely chopped a scallion, tossed it in a small pot with some oil and let it cook until is softened. Then I added the rice, stirring fiercely, so none would stick to the bottom of the pan, or start to brown at all. After about 5 minutes of stirring you can actually hear the rice start to crackle, meaning they are crisping up a little, toast actually. At this point I added some vegetable broth I'd made a few days ago and had in the freezer. Once the rice had soaked up the broth I added the cheese and stirred for a few more minutes until it was nice and creamy.

While doing this I was also working on a reduced red wine sauce which I made with equal parts red wine and vegetable broth. They were both ready at the same time and I plated the risotto and brought the steaming dishes to the table and my waiting roommate. We each spooned some of the sauce onto the rice and dove in. It was very good. But after working through about half of the plate we started talking about ways to do it differently.

The first problem was the rice itself. The vegetable broth took away from the delicate taste of the aged cheese. It was still good, but could have been better. The cheese by itself is delicious, but add the broth to the mix covers the delicate flavor. The next problem was the sauce, it was too liquid. When you poured it over the rice it just looked like a thin red cloudy layer, nothing all that interesting. The fixes for both these problems were fairly obvious. Make the rice with plain water and not broth, and find something to thicken the sauce. I decided a reux would work nicely.

At this point we were still just discussing what we would do differently, but with no intention of acting upon those thoughts. After we finished our plates we were still carrying on the same discussion, while mulling over the last glass of the same wine I had used for the sauce. At this point I started to realize where this was leading. Finally Domenico said, "you know with good wine I can eat to infinity." A dangerous statement, yet a classic of his. He followed that up by offering a great bottle of Montefalco Rosso to make sauce round two.

This is where my stubborn nature really kicked in. I knew what it would take to make the dish truly amazing, I still had all the ingredients on hand, and I'd be kicking myself if I didn't get it right. So back to the kitchen it was.

This time, no onions or broth in the rice, just a little oil and water, a reux (oil and flour whipped together in a small sauce pan) to thicken the reduced wine sauce and we were set.

Round two the rice was perfectly white and I put it in little mounds on our plates instead smoothed flat like before. I drizzled the thicker sauce around in concentric circles and it held its shape beautifully. A series of royal purple switchbacks against the pure white rice mountain. We both stopped for a minute and stared. Domenico took the first bit and said he wanted to keep eating but wanted to keep looking as well. Can't have your risotto and eat it too I guess. So we dug in, in silence for a minute or two. Then Domenico looked up and asked "Come se dice 'le parole sono superflue'?" (How do you say 'words are superfluous'?) which I translated, and we continued in silence.

After we finished Domenico had one more comment, just trying to see how far he could push me I think, "you know, this would also be really good with that aged balsamic vinegar..."

Ben Tornato!

2010-02-17T20:33:00.000+01:00

It took me about a week to get into the kitchen once I got back to Rome, so I hadn't been in a little more than a month. Nonetheless, when I arrived everyone was glad to see me and as welcoming as ever. As soon as I entered the kitchen Antonio stopped talking to the pasta delivery guy and tossed his hands in the air saying "eccolo, ben tornato!" (there he is, welcome back).

It was Wednesday and after we caught up on what happened over the last month and discussed my time in the kitchen at Maialino in New York (which I'll write about soon) he said he really didn't have anything for me to do and sent me over to Giuseppe, who had a massive pile of artichokes to deal with. I started in on them like Giovanni had shown me, but Giuseppe immediately stopped me. I was doing everything right except for the angle of the knife when I was cutting off the leaves. Holding the stem in my hand, leaves pointing away from me, I was cutting into them at practically a 90 degree angle. Giuseppe stopped me and asked what was on the underside of the artichoke if I cut too far. Turns out it was fingers. Oops. He said you want to cut at a much shallower angle so if you cut too much the knife ends up in the air, not your finger.

I like going in the mornings because I can generally ask more questions and do more myself rather than just watch the goings on when the restaurant is really crowded. It was raining today, which means Italians don't spend more time outside than they can possibly avoid, so things like going out to eat get cut from the daily routine, so lunch was particularly slow. So it was a very educational morning.

Alfredo and I were cleaning some mussels and started talking about them. I learned that the way to tell if a mussel is fresh is by the weight. Fresh mussels are still full of water and thus weigh more. He gave me two mussels of the same size, one from today and one from yesterday, and the one from today was noticeable heavier. The mussels we were cleaning came from Sardinia, and are therefore generally larger. Spanish ones are smaller in size, and the best come from Puglia, where they have small shells but the animal itself is very large, filling the entire shell.

After the lesson on mussels we moved to fish in general. There are three ways to tell if a fish is fresh. There is not an exact science and all three must considered in judging a fish. The first is by looking at the eyes. In a truly fresh fish the eye ball still curves up from the socket. After a day or two that curve flattens out and can even become slightly concave, which means the fish is still very good, and could even be eaten raw. The final stage is when the eye takes on a cloudy color, instead of the jet black tone it has originally. At this point the fish is still edible, but shouldn't be eaten raw.

The second way to test a fish's freshness is by feeling how hard the meat is. Fresh fish meat is firm, while older meat becomes mushy. The reason for this is an acid in the meat itself that starts to break it down. The best comparison I can come up with is that poking fresh fish should feel similar to the tip of your thumb, while older fish feels like the fatty part of your hand. This is a method that comes with experience, but once you know what you're doing it seems pretty fool proof. Roberto walked into the kitchen and didn't even look at the fish in question but prodded it with his index fingered and confirmed Alfredo's feeling that it was still fresh.

The last way is the color of the skin. Fresh fish holds it's natural colors while older ones don't. This is particularly difficult because you need to know what the original colors of a fish are. There's nothing to compare what you see against except an image in your mind. Although sometimes the color will remain true to the original along the spine. Alfredo was cleaning a sea robin that was a few days old as he explained this. You could clearly see that brighter orange shades along the spine while the rest of the skin had taken on a grayer shade, muting the vibrant reds and oranges.

Snow in Rome

2010-02-12T11:24:00.007+01:00

I walked downstairs this morning for a cappuccino and a cornetto, as my fridge was still empty, and when I walked into the bar it was cold and raining. As I stood there sipping my coffee I looked out the window and noticed a speck of white floating through the air, and then another and another. By the time I left the bar it was full on snowing. I ran upstairs, grabbed my camera and headed directly for the Pantheon.

Walking there I noticed very confused Romans: traffic was slower than normal, people weren't sure whether to hold up an umbrella or put on a hat, a high heeled woman or two looked distressed about the dusting of snow on the cobblestones. I walked past Castel Sant'Angelo, turning around for this shot of St. Peter's with the Ponte Sant'Angelo in front.

From there I wound through the streets to the north of Piazza Navona and made my way to the Pantheon.

I got inside just a few minutes after it opened at 9am and it was delightfully empty. I was somewhat surprised that more people were not following my beeline path to see the snow trickling through the oculus, not that I'm complaining about sharing the space with only a dozen other people. I tried taking a few pictures of the snow coming through but it was a futile effort, my little point-and-shoot camera could not handle the intense light difference. So I sat down to write about it, and here's what I came up with, I hope it serves in the place of a photo.

Looking up into the oculus of the Pantheon, as a few chosen flakes made their way to the ground, brought a sense of extreme serenity. The flakes falling, like you yourself, had entered into a different realm, removed from the chaos outside. If you looked up directly into the circle of light and let your eyes adjust to the brightness you began to see things in greater detail. The sky above came into view, waves of snowflakes whipping by above the dome, caught in the winds some 150 feet off the ground. A few lucky flakes made it inside out of the storm, gently swirling through the oculus, as if caught in a moment of weightlessness, between the effects of gravity and the wind.

Once clear of the eye, the flakes started their slow descent to the floor, floating feather-like downward. They were visible only for a short part of their descent as the shadows increased on the way down. The column of light coming down from the oculus of the Pantheon is often called the largest column in Rome, but now the column of snow is like so many of the other columns in this city, cut short. Although this time the bottom two thirds are missing.

If you watch the hole long enough a seagull passes by, a white bird against a white sky surrounded by white flakes. While my camera could not capture the subtle differences in color, there is one in the room who could, or could have years ago. The Pantheon is the final resting place of Raphael, whom mother nature "feared to be overcome while he was living, and while he was dying, herself to die" as is written on his tombstone. In his final work, the Transfiguration, he plays with subtle variations of blues and whites. The figure of Christ is wearing blue robes, against a blue sky with blue clouds. I couldn't help but think he would have been able to capture this moment perfectly, maybe enhancing it beyond mother nature herself, confirming her fears.

However, my serene moment in the Pantheon lasted only so long. After fifteen minutes a group of Italian students came in chattering away, and ruining the almost perfect silence that the rest of us had been enjoying.

Umbrian Polenta

2010-02-04T17:22:00.003+01:00

I learned this recipe in the fall on a trip to Assisi where I bought a bag of polenta al tartufo and in talking with the store owner he passed on his recipe to go with the polenta.

250 grams polenta.
3 pork sausages
250 g ground veal (noce di vitello macinato)
1 can peeled, chopped tomatoes
1 red onion
Olive oil
Salt and pepper
Grated parmesan

1. Remove sausages from casings and crumble along with veal into well-oiled pan, cook for five minutes or until browned.

2. Remove from pan, draining most of the liquid.

3. Chop onions and add to pan you cooked meat in, cook 2-to-3 minutes.

4. Add tomatoes to pan, cover and simmer for 15 minutes, adding water if necessary to keep the sauce liquid.

5. Add meat to tomato sauce, cover and simmer for 30-to-40 minutes.

6. In separate pot bring 1 liter of lightly salted water to a boil.

7. Turn heat to low, slowly add polenta, stirring regularly to avoid clumps. Cook for 30-to-40 minutes, stirring every 5 minutes, until mixture is creamy.

8. Pour polenta onto serving plates, let sit for 3-4 minutes to harden a little, cover with sauce, garnish with grated parmesan and serve immediately. Serves 4

A Hidden Chapel

2010-01-19T19:48:00.004+01:00

After a year and half in Rome it is becoming less and less frequent that I discover new sites that are truly worth seeing, but it still happens more regularly than I would expect. In general the things I have not found are a bit away from the center of town and not right under my nose, but last week I discovered something in a building I have walked past hundreds of times.

The church San Girolamo della Carita sits just off the magnificent Piazza Farnese down Via di Monserrato, which I walk down every time I go to Pierluigi. Just off the piazza that street is very narrow and one would hardly notice this church's facade because there is not enough space to step back and take the whole thing in. I, like everyone else, simply walked past it without a second thought. One day I decided to poke around and see if the church held anything of interest.

The facade, not the best angle (or light) but shows the narrow street and why people pass it by so easily.

I was shot down in my first attempt, the church has very limited hours, Sunday mornings from 10-12 with mass at 11:30, so it's really only open from 10:00-11:30 from visitors. An hour and a half a week? Really? There are a few others churches in Rome with similar hours and I still have no idea what they use the churches for the rest of the time. Between that first try and my next visit I did a little research and discovered that the church houses the Cappella Spada designed by Borromini. Thinking I has seen all his works in Rome, I was excited to find another, albeit on a smaller scale.

I made my way to the church last Sunday and got there around 11, giving myself enough time before mass started to have a look around. The Cappella Spada is the back left corner and is immediately recognizable by the railing in the front. Instead of a typical balustrade dividing the chapel from the rest of the church there are two angels holding a length of stretched fabric between them. However, despite the look of the drapery and the way it sits in folds at the angels feet, it is entirely marble.

I originally thought the entire chapel was completed by Borromini, but, like so many things in Rome, it took years to complete and Borromini was deceased (well, committed suicide) before the completion of the chapel. It was finished, the railing was actually the last piece of the puzzle, by a student of Bernini, which must have caused Borromini to roll over in his grave. While it may not have been in his original design, the railing is the most notable feature of the chapel.

The different types of marble, all reds and earthy tones, give the chapel a very warm feeling.

Santa Bibiana

2010-01-07T18:38:00.006+01:00

I may have found the one redeeming quality of the area around Termini train station. It's hard to avoid using any number of cliches to describe this beautiful little church, but Bernini's Santa Bibiana is truly a diamond in the rough. The area around Termini is particularly seedy and not one I would want to wind up in late at night. This feeling is reflected in the streets itself, always covered in litter, graffiti everywhere and generally unpleasant smells. But walking into this minute church leaves all that behind you.

Originally consecrated in 467 AD on the sight of the tomb of St. Bibiana, a 4th century Roman matron who was flogged to death for her beliefs, the church saw two major renovations. First in 1224 under Pope Honorius III and then in 1624 under Pope Urban VII. Urban commissioned the work to Gianlorenzo Bernini, still a young man of 26 at the time and more known for his skill as a sculptor, and not yet for his mastery of architecture. His first architectural commission, and certainly his smallest, this church nonetheless has early signs of Bernini's flair for the theatrical. As the foot print of the church was already in place, Bernini was charged with building a new facade and redesigning the apse.

Here's the church set against one of the massive modern buildings that make up Termini

And the side of the church covered with graffiti.

The facade is two stories with a broken pediment surmounted by a small cross at the very top. Three things struck me as particularly Berniniesque in this early piece of his. The first is the three arches in the first story. This brings to mind a triumphal arch, which carries along with it the idea of grandiosity, especially as people in Rome at the time would know the Arch of Constantine next to the Colosseum quite well at this time. So despite the church's small size Bernini was able to make the viewer think of grander things. Next point of interest are the columns, in the lower story they are Ionic and in the second story they are Doric. This goes against the ancient Roman principles (ergo Renaissance) laid out explicitly by Vitruvius in his Ten Books of Architecture. Following the ancients, one would put Doric columns on the lower register, and Ionic above (and Corinthian above that if there were another story, is in the Colosseum). By reversing this order Bernini brings more attention, therefore more importance, to the middle of the upper story, where the Doric columns line the small balcony.

The last feature that struck me about the facade was the railings on the upper level, what would be the third floor. They seem an odd addition, there would have been little use for the roof, if there's even access to it. The only explanation I can think of is that they extended the height of the sides of the facade so the central part does not appear to stick up too much.

The interior of the church is lavishly decorated and if your eyes aren't immediately distracted by Bernini's sculpture over the main they might pause for a moment on the frescoes that decorate the clerestory. The lighting was not particularly good so this is only a small snapshot of what's there (the entire clerestory on both sides of the nave is covered in frescoes). The scenes, painted by Pietro da Crotona and Agostino Ciampelli, depict the life (and death, below) of St. Bibiana.

The main altar, including the sculpture, was designed by Bernini as well. The columns are Corinthian, as if a continuation from the other two orders outside, and the saint is shown leaning against the column to which she was tied while she was flogged and holding the whips that were used to beat her. Supposedly while she was tortured she laughed the whole way through the ordeal until she expired and Bernini captured that expression in her face, instead of pain and torment she seems to be aloof to what is going on.

In an unassuming corner just to the left of the main door is the column that St. Bibiana was supposedly tied to. It certainly does look old and has some marks that look eerily like finger nail scratches, but as with most of these relics, I'm a little skeptical.

Berlusconi's latest

2009-12-26T18:40:00.002+01:00

Just doesn't stop with this guy...

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1235414/Berlusconis-new-international-bloomer-sends-EU-leaders-womens-underwear-doodles.html

Historical Christmas

2009-12-26T11:11:00.003+01:00

Rome is an interesting city in which to discuss religion, and particularly the overlap of Christianity and the pagan religions that came before it, and how Christianity often absorbed pagan traditions and named them their own. Given the time of year, I thought it would be interesting to see where theology and history overlap, what truths lie behind modern day religious practices, be they truly religious or more commercial.

The tradition of giving presents around the end of December dates back to 217 BC when the Roman Senate decreed a day of festival in an attempt to raise morale after a lost battle during the Second Punic War. The day was such a success that over time it evolved into a week long event. It was a week in which Rome was largely turned on its head. No one wore togas (removing some level of class distinction), slaves wore freedmen's hats, and gifts were exchanged between friends and family members. Massive feasts were held at which slaves would dine with their masters, or even be served by their masters. The ideas of exchanging gifts and having a large celebratory feast were traditions picked up by the early Christians. It was incredibly convenient to say the birth of Christ occurred on December 25th as the originally festival of Saturnalia ended on December 23rd, making it an easy transition from celebrating one thing to the next.

Jumping ahead a few hundreds years, we discover the origins of an outsider delivering presents, the earliest Santa Claus. St. Nicholas was from Myra, in modern day Turkey, and was a Greek bishop there until he died in 346 AD. He was a very wealthy bishop and did the best he could to help the poor, particularly children. One story goes that he would drop coins in shoes left outside of people's houses. Another, and a more interesting one, involves a poor father and his daughters. There are many versions of this story with subtle variations, I like this one the best.

St. Nicholas heard of this family, a father and his three daughters, who were all one year apart from each other and were coming of age to be married. However, the father did not have enough money to pay for their dowries, and without marriage they would likely become prostitutes for lack of any other way to provide for themselves. St. Nicholas heard of this and wanted to help. He did not want to give the father money directly, and thus make him look bad for needing so much outside help to support his daughters. So the night before the first daughter was to come of age St. Nicholas threw a bag of gold coins through a window in their house. The next year, the night before the second daughter was to come of age, he threw another bag of gold coins through the same window. The third year he came back to do the same, but the father was guarding the window to catch a glimpse of the man who was keeping his daughters out of prostitution. Desiring to remain anonymous, St. Nicholas climbed on the roof and dropped the bag down the chimney instead. The bag opened on the way down and some of the coins landed in the stockings the daughter had hung up to dry on the mantle. Giving us today the traditions of Santa Claus coming through the chimney and leaving gifts, smaller things being put in our stockings, and even waiting up to catch Santa Claus.

Santa Claus as we know him today comes, likely, from a Dutch tradition of Sinterklaas, which, in English was pronounced Santa Claus, as first written in a New York newspaper in the 1770s. The original European version was always dressed in green and white, and it wasn't until the tradition crossed the pond to America that red and white took over. And even then it was only on rare occasions that Father Christmas was depicted wearing red and white. This all changed in the 1930s when Coca-cola used him for an ad campaign, using their colors, and fixed red and white as his colors for the rest of the world. Scary how much power an ad campaign can have, or maybe I've just been watching too much Mad Men...

Maybe the coolest thing I've done in Rome...

2009-12-21T21:36:00.006+01:00

I have starting work with the company my friend Melissa works for, and have become their second tour guide, behind her boss, Filippo. Their company, called Italy's Finest Lifestyle Management, organizes private visits to some of the hardest to enter sites in the city and works hand in hand with other larger companies as acting tour guides in Rome. Last week they were collaborating with another company based outside of Rome that needed insider assistance. The group they brought to Rome was about thirty people and they wanted a visit to the Vatican Museums, and not just any visit, one after closing when the museums were empty.

We were supposed to meet the organizers at the entrance to the Museums at 6:30 and then the group, coming in a caravan of vans was to arrive at 6:45 so we could do introductions before the museums doors opened precisely at 7:00. I was the first to arrive and stood in front of the main entrance for a few minutes in the brisk early December evening until I saw Filippo and Melissa enter the cafe across the street to meet their counterparts. I hustled across the street to meet them and was introduced to everyone before we walked back across the street, nearly getting run over by a Fiat that didn't want to stop for pedestrians.

For the next few minutes we milled around running over last minute details of organizing two simultaneous visits so Filippo and I would not step on each others toes: how far apart would we need to be in the Galleries of Maps and Tapestries? Where did we each want to start in the Raphael rooms? Where would we each set up in the Sistine Chapel? We had discussed all this before but just wanted to run through it once more. That said and done all we had to do was wait.

As we stood there I started to get oddly nervous. I have given a good number of tours of the Vatican Museums so far but this was different. It was stepping up to the big time, a large group of travelers coming for all walks of life, but with one common interest, art. While I had taken people through before this was the first time the group would surely already know much of what I was discussing, and thus I had to make it really come to life, combining my knowledge and my acting abilities, which haven't been tested since Henry V in 8th grade.

I had known about this for a long time and felt prepared until I met with Filippo the week before to run through the details and he told me that the part of the museum that contains the ancient sculpture would be closed. This was a problem. In my opinion, and now hopefully the people I've taken around the museum appreciate this as well, the Vatican's strongest point as a museum is that in the first half of your visit you see the ancient works that Michelangelo and Raphael studied, and then the second half you see how those works influenced the masters works.

You see Michelangelo's Adam in much greater depth if you have admired the Belvedere Torso and its overly muscular features that Michelangelo was aiming to replicate. The twisted, tormented figures of the Last Judgment swirl around Christ in the center that much more if you have seen the pain in Laocoön's face and his swelled muscles desperately combating the serpents pulling him and his sons out to sea for his untimely distrust of Greeks. But I was without these, only the best descriptions of these works I could come up with and the hope that someone might know what I was talking about.

The group arrived and after a slightly awkward pause in the entrance as Filippo talked a bit longer than I did, we made our way into the museums, accompanied by two museums guards to make sure no one wandered off. The tour went very well and the highlight for me was walking into the Sistine Chapel. I led my group into the chapel ahead of Filippo's and when I entered I was the only person there for a matter of moments. I was not that far ahead of the group, so it wasn't very long, but it still happened. I was the only person in the Sistine Chapel.

I let the group filter in and have a look by themselves for a minute (so I could do the same) before they found seats and I set about explaining the storied history to the group, at this point a bit over sightseeing, but were slightly reinvigorated by the solemnity of the chapel.

Pasta 101

2009-12-16T22:56:00.002+01:00

I made one of the most basic pastas imaginable tonight, but it was incredibly delicious thanks to great ingredients and a few basic rules behind pasta making in general. The dish was farfalle con parmigiano e pepe bianco - bowtie pasta with parm and white pepper. For quite some time now I have known what must be done to produce a top quality pasta dish but I haven't known all the reasons behind each step, the "why" if you will. This past week I asked around the kitchen and did a little research to answer all my "why" questions.

First question: Why salt the water?

Every Italian will tell you that pasta water needs to be as salty as the sea. To find out why I started by asking my roommate and his response was, simply, pasta tastes terrible if the water isn't salted. I took that response to chef Antonio, who illuminated the fact even more. He said unsalted pasta does taste bad, but you cannot merely add salt later. By putting salt in the water it gives the pasta much more of a chance to absorb the salt, rather than merely be coated with it. He also pointed out that by salting the pasta in this way you don't need to salt the sauce as much. This explains why there is never salt on the table in an Italian restaurant.

A second reason is that salted water has a higher boiling point. When you dump the pasta in the water it stops boiling for a bit, but the fact that it was already at a higher temperature means that it will cook the pasta more, rather than merely leave it to soak in warm water. More on this in the next question.

Second question: Why stir the pasta so much right when it goes into the water?

Both my roommate and Antonio gave me the same answer to this question, if you don't the individual pieces will actually fuse together. Fine, but why? When pasta is in warm (not boiling) water the starch in it essentially seeps out. While this is happening the pasta will stick together quite easily, so it's important to stir the pasta a good amount until the water returns to a boil.

Third question: Why not drain the pasta in a colander?

If you drain the pasta two things happen. One, you lose all the pasta water, which has a great starchy flavor that should be added to sauces instead of plain water. Two, if you let the pasta dry out or coat it with oil or butter before combining it with your sauce of choice the pasta won't absorb the sauce, as it already has another coating.

Now for the recipe...

1 bag farfalle pasta (bowties)
3 tbsp sea salt
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
white or black pepper
2 tbsp good olive oil

1. Boil water with salt. Dump in pasta when water is at a roiling boil.

2. Pour olive oil into large pan, but don't turn on, you don't want to heat the oil too much because as you heat good oil it breaks down and begins to lose its flavor.

3. When the pasta is just about done turn on the flame under the oil.

4. Add pasta, parm and pepper, stir well and serve immediately.

I was lucky this past week to get a bottle of olive oil from Antonio, whose family produces a hundred or so bottles a year for their own use and very local distribution, which is some of the best olive oil I have ever had. Melissa also brought me some white pepper corns and a pepper grinder back with her from Istanbul. White and black pepper actually come from the same seed, black pepper is harvested when the seeds are green and not yet ripe. They get their color from drying in the sun. If the seeds are left to mature they turn white. White pepper has the same flavor but is a little milder and more subtle.

Self-written inscription on John Keats' tomb

2009-12-16T22:48:00.001+01:00

"Here lies One Whose Name was writ in Water"

A Christmas Stroll

2009-12-07T22:27:00.004+01:00

After a long day of proctoring middle school chemistry exams as a substitute teacher and sitting in a chair all afternoon working on my new website, I was feeling a bit restless and decided to go for a walk and see how the Roman decorations were coming along this evening. The unofficial Christmas season started in Rome over a month ago when lights started popping up in shop windows and ornaments went on sale in markets. However, the season officially begins tomorrow with La Festa della Immacolata Concezione (Feast of the Immaculate Conception). The feast actually celebrates the immaculate conception not of Jesus, but of Mary, a fact which I only learned recently.

The city, well the Vatican, did not start my walk off well. Maybe I'm spoiled having grown up in Manhattan where the Christmas decorations, from Rockefeller center to the tree lighting on Park Avenue, are second to none, but you'd think the Vatican could scrounge up a decent looking tree. Not the case. The tree, which they put up next to the obelisk in St. Peter's square and the life-sized nativity scene that will be unveiled tomorrow, can only be described as scraggely (a favorite word of my mother's that she's been trying to convince me is a real word for going on two decades now). At first glance I tried to give it the benefit of the doubt, anything looks small in that square with Rome's second tallest obelisk lording over it and the massive facade looming behind. But even on closer inspection it was rough. The branches are so thin you can look right through the tree in places to the basilica facade behind. It doesn't have lights yet, but if they look anything like last year they won't be much of a help.

After the disappointing tree I walked down Mussolini's Via delle Conciliazione, built by plowing down the old neighborhood of the borgo. I stopped for a moment at the start of the street as there was an ambulance with a half dozen red cross personnel milling around it. I waited a second to see what was going on and saw a homeless man walk up to the group, shake hands all around, exchange pleasantries, and then one of the red cross workers reached into the ambulance and pulled out a plate of steaming hot pasta and a glass of wine and handed it to the man. I watched for a few more minutes as a handful more of homeless people walked up and received the same dinner. Italians do make sure everyone eats well. The homeless presence is certainly felt in Rome, but this was the first evidence I'd ever seen of direct help from the city. I asked an Italian friend awhile ago about homeless shelters and he didn't know of any, or of anything that the city did, although he said there are various church organizations that organize things in the colder months.

After witnessing this humane scene amidst the general chaos of Rome I continued down Mussolini's boulevard to Castel Sant'Angelo were I paused for another few minutes and watched the ice-skaters at the temporary rink that is set up each year along the river below the imposing walls of Rome's only castle. Although on a much smaller scale, and slightly warmer temperatures, the scene was similar to Wollman rink on any given night: not particularly good music blaring from poor speakers, parents watching from the sides as their youngest stumble around, middle and highschoolers using any opportunity for a little flirtatious play fighting. The one main difference was that not a single person on the rink had their own skates, all were the cheap, plastic, rental variety. I guess ice-hockey and figure skating haven't taken off that much over here.

From there I crossed the bridge in front of the castle, walking the gauntlet between Bernini's angels, and picked up Via dei Banchi Nuovi (street of the new banks) were an American ran past me wearing shorts and a sweatshirt, disconnected from the world around him by little white ear buds. In front of the palazzo where I took Italian classes over a year ago the street inexplicably changes name to Via del Governo Vecchio (street of the old government). After the name change the atmosphere changes as well, the small art studios and antique dealers are pushed out by a few thrift shops, wine bars, an Irish pub and the ever crowded pizzeria da Baffetto (where all the tourists wind up while the locals are around the corner at La Montecarlo).

Governo Vecchio ends at the southern tip of Piazza Navona where a Christmas market is set up every year and is currently in full swing. Half Christmas market and half country fair, it certainly doesn't carry the highest quality merchandise but it is entertaining for a few minutes and some people watching. You can do everything from ride a 19th century German carousel, shoot a bb-gun at balloons, knock over a pyramid of tin cans to win a teddy bear from your amore, get all the fixings for your presepe (nativity scene) - landscape pieces included - buy a new Connect Four set (Super 4 in Italian, with an extra long "u" sound), or buy a glass of vin brule (mulled wine) for two euros that nicely fights the chill in the air.

Having had enough with the crowd at Navona I wondered down to Campo de' Fiori, not yet in full night time debauch mode, cut across Piazza Farnese, a spot too serious for any Christmas decorations, and headed down Via di Monserrato (named after a town in Sardinia). I passed by Pierluigi and waved hello to everyone without stopping in and interrupting a busy night there, and continued down Monserrato, which changes into Via dei Banchi Vecchi (street of the old banks). The street was decorated very well, with simple white lights strung across it every thirty feet or so that changed to make it look like snow was falling. Simple, but perfect for someone who thinks only white lights should be used on a Christmas tree, and decorations in general. Banchi Vecchi led me back to where I had started, back over the river and through the woods, the Tiber and the umbrella pines behind the castle.

Orrecchiete alle cime di'rapa

2009-12-02T10:51:00.004+01:00

Orrecchiete with broccoli raab

1 lb orrecchiete pasta (little ears)
2 lbs broccoli raab
2 cloves garlic
2-4 full chili peppers
olive oil

1. Pick through the raab, getting rid of all the big leaves and stems, keeping only the tender leaves and stems, should end up with about a quarter of what you started with.

2. Cook raab in boiling salted water for 3 minutes. Spoon out, saving water.

3. Bring water back to boil and cook pasta in it.

4. In large pan, soften garlic with olive oil and chili peppers, add raab to this after 2-3 minutes.

5. Add pasta to pan, mix well and serve immediately with parmesan.

Michelangelo, Sonnet 5

2009-12-02T10:35:00.000+01:00

"I've already grown a goiter at this drudgery,
as the water gives the cats of Lombardy,
or else it may be in some other country -
which sticks my stomach by force beneath my chin.
With my beard toward heaven, I feel my memory-box
atop my hump; I'm getting a harpy's breast;
and the brush that is always above my face,
by dribbling down, makes it an ornate pavement.
My loins have entered my belly, and I make
my ass into a crupper as counterweight;
without my eyes, my feet move aimlessly.
In front of me my hide is stretching out
and, to wrinkle up behind, it forms a knot,
and I am bent like a Syrian bow.
Therefore the reasoning that my mind produces
comes out unsound and strange,
for one shoots badly through a crooked barrel.
Giovanni, from now on
defend my dead painting, and my honor,
since I'm not in a good position, nor a painter."

Turkey Day in Rome

2009-11-27T01:15:00.002+01:00

32 lb turkey, 9 Americans, 7 Italians, 2 Canadians, 1 Brit, no comments for now as I am in a food coma, but I think the pictures speak largely for themselves...

Florence

2009-11-23T22:29:00.005+01:00

I've decided that I feel the same way towards Florence that many people feel towards New York, I love to visit but I could never live there. It's just too small, I like big cities and the chaos they entail. Rome is no New York, sometimes it even feels small to me, but as far as Italy goes, it works. There isn't the same be able to do anything at any time of day or night atmosphere here as there is in New York, this is Italy after all, and places often close for 4 hour lunches, but you can do more than in most other places in Italy.

I went up to see a friend from Davidson who is studying abroad in Florence, but she was really busy so we didn't end up seeing each other until Saturday night, which worked out very well because it gave me time to stroll around and see the things I wanted to on my own pace. I found a hostel on hostelworld.com that had beds for 14 euros a night and when I got there I had an entire room to myself in a newish building a block for Santa Croce. It was called Tourist House Santa Croce, I was skeptical about the name, but it worked out very well.

I got in on Friday night and went out looking for a place to grab an aperitivo to hold my hunger off until a more reasonable dinner hour. It took longer than I expected to find a decent looking wine bar in Florence (you'd think there would be one on every corner in the capital of the wine capital of Italy) but it is such a tourist town that many things are just too touristy. I finally did find a nice spot on Via de' Ognisanti. I had a glass of Rosso di Bolgheri which was interesting but nothing special. The nice part of the bar was the location, the street was already decked out in Christmas lights and they had outdoor seating with good space heaters.

After a glass of wine and a few little bites I headed to the other side of town, the Oltrarno, in the hopes of finding a slightly less Americanized place to eat. After passing a half dozen places or so that were either too expensive, empty, or had tourist menus, I finally settled on a place just to the left of the facade of Santo Spirito. There was a group of three American girls waiting to be seated, and they were having trouble sorting through the menu which was only in Italian. So I offered to help and ended up joining them for dinner, a nice surprise for a solo traveler. The food was pretty good and the girls were very entertaining. I had a great ribollita (Tuscan soup) followed by a polpettoncino (a really big meatball), also very good and smothered in a sweet tomato sauce. We parted ways after dinner and I headed back to my hostel for a good night's sleep.

The next morning I blissfully awoke to the sounds of silence, no alarm clock, no sirens, no annoying scooter alarms, not even the garbage truck that rumbles past my window in Rome all too frequently. It was great.

I spent the day ducking in and out of churches, which you annoyingly have to pay for in Florence, and going to the Bargello museum, which I had managed to miss on my prior visits. The more I'm in Rome and more I study its art and architecture, the more I realize how I really prefer the two things to be separate. I'm not sure if this makes sense even in my own head, but let me try to explain.

Rome is a baroque city and in the majority of its churches every inch is covered in something. Take St. Peter's for example. Even in its enormity there is hardly a bare wall anywhere. Baroque art is so frantic, your eyes can't focus. I partially understand the reason for this and I'll try to explain, but I'm still not a fan. Renaissance art strove for a level of perfection not achieved since Greek and Roman times, idealized figures in idealized settings showing little emotion. The Manneristic period, which followed Renaissance starting in the 1520s, distorted that realism and added emotion. This was done because people thought the art they were producing was not pleasing God. In 1517 Martin Luther wrote his scathing 95 Theses against the Catholic church, after he spent a year in Rome witnessing the exorbitant spending of the papal families, thus starting the Protestant Reformation. In 1527 Rome was sacked and the Pope was forced to flee to the stronghold of Castel Sant'Angelo, and eventually Orvieto. So things were off kilter in the Catholic world.

Artists, more so their patrons probably, took these as signs that things needed to change, so they did. So they took the exquisite proportions of the High Renaissance and skewed them. The best example I can think off the top of my head is Parmigianino's Madonna of the Long Neck, who has, surprisingly, a long neck. ( http://surveyofwesternart.haloslinkup.net/studymaterial/307_madonna_long_neck.jpg ) Other features are distorted as well, her fingers are elongated, and the baby Jesus in her lap is all out of proportion. The setting also doesn't fit. On one side behind her is a drawn curtain, but you don't see a window or any architectural feature to suggest she is in fact indoors. In the background there is a column that seems to be part of nothing, just standing on its own. Her world is out of place, like the church at the time.

By the end of the 16th century things were looking up for the Catholic church, kicking off the Baroque era. The Protestant Reformation didn't take off, the Catholic church outlasted it, as it has all challengers for 2000 years. However the church's numbers were depleted so they needed to do what they could to attract more followers. The answer, at least in art, came by incorporating the emotion of Mannerism with the idealism of the Renaissance, and bringing that idealism to human settings. A good example in painting isn't coming to me, but the effects were also seen in architecture, and Bernini is the perfect example. His churches are covered from floor to ceiling with gold and white, a celebration of light, enticing new comers.

But now back to Florence and why I like the Renaissance churches more, and why art and architecture should be kept separate. Churches in Florence let the architecture speak for itself. There is an emphasis on simplicity, a clarity of line. It is cleaner and less distracting. In St. Peters it is hard to appreciate the amazing barrel vault that covers the nave because it is so decorated, where the undecorated ceiling of the Santa Maria del Fiore (the Duomo) in Florence lets you appreciate the simple, elegant curves of the pointed arches that make up the groin vaults. If you cover all of that with angels and gilding and all the other little devices Bernini loved to use, the architecture merely becomes the stage for Bernini's theater and not the show itself. I think, when done well, the stage itself is enough. If all its parts fit harmoniously you don't need anything more. Not to be overly metaphorical, but the individual architectural features become the actors. A plinth supporting a column that leads to an arch that draws your eye to a window.

Michelangelo: architetto a Roma

2009-11-18T17:09:00.005+01:00

Currently at the Capitoline Museums is a show on Michelangelo's architectural pieces in Rome running through Feb. 7th. It is an excellent addition to the museums already great collection and particularly fitting location as one of the works the exhibit looks at is Michelangelo's work on the Campidoglio. The piazza that the museums are situated around.

When Michelangelo set to work on the piazza there were two buildings set at an angle just short of 90 degrees to one another. The main building was the senate palace (now the equivalent of City Hall). To enclose the piazza he added another building, set at the same acute angle to the senate on the opposite side. This left the piazza in the shape of a trapezoid, an imperfection to Renaissance minds. To counter this effect Michelangelo raised the center of the piazza so that it gently slopes away to meet the buildings on either side. He also designed an intricate geometric pattern for the pavement (not completed until after his death) which distracts the eye from the piazzas imperfection.

However, these architectural details are secondary to the focal point of the piazza. The equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius. It is one of the few bronze originals that has survived until this day, because Christians thought it was Constantine, a christian, and not the last of the great Roman emperors, a pagan. It stood on view to the public throughout the middle ages in front of the Lateran Palace and was moved to the Capitoline in 1538. Reportedly Michelangelo did not like the central placement but created a simple plinth for it to rest on. The original is now in the museum and a copy remains in the piazza. It was moved inside in the mid-90's when people realized the bronze of the legs was in danger of buckling and needed extra support. I'm amazed the skinny legs have supported the massive amount of bronze above for almost two millennia. It is now on display in an atrium entirely dedicated to it alone. While the copy is quite good, you need to see the original to see how well the Roman sculptor captured the stoic look of Rome's only philosopher emperor.

Now back to the show. I disagreed with my friend Melissa's take on the curation of the exhibit. Where she found it serpentine and confusing, I found nicely broken up into discrete sections about each period and piece. I was also particularly impressed with the spacing between works. Italian exhibitions, and museums in general, have a tendency to cram as many things into one space as possible which makes it very difficult to appreciate the details in any one work without your eye being distracted. In this case, maybe because they didn't have many pieces, or they thought Michelangelo would roll over in his grave if things were to tight, they spaced things nicely. You could take in his sketches individually and focus on the details he focused on, such as the intricacies of his studies on column capitals.

The show looked at everything architectural the great master worked on in Rome from a delicate window in Castel Sant'Angelo to the stately Palazzo Farnese to the awe-inspiring dome of St. Peter's. There was a lot to take in, any one of his sketches could be studied for hours, but one other work stays in my memory even a week later.

An etching from 1565, one year after Michelangelo's death, depicts a joust in the lowest level of the Belevedere Courtyard, designed by Bramante 60 years earlier. However the most interesting part is the domeless drum of St. Peter's in the background. While he was alive Michelangelo kept his designs to himself, likely so he couldn't be fired. But he constructed the drum in such a way that those who followed him has no choice but to build a dome similar to his plans. The dome was finally completed in 1590. Michelangelo was not a humble artist, he wanted to leave his mark on Rome, and St. Peter's as the grandest scale for him to do so. He knew it would not be finished in his lifetime but wanted to make sure it was still his work.

Henry James, "Italian Hours"

2009-11-18T15:33:00.001+01:00

"The smile of Rome, as I have called it, and its insidious message to those who incline to ramble irresponsibly and take things as they come, is ushered in with the first breath of spring, and then grows and grows with the advancing season till it wraps the whole place in its tenfold charm."

Sant'Ignazio

2009-11-12T18:19:00.003+01:00

St. Ignatius - the first Jesuit church in Rome

Of the 450 churches in Rome, each has something to offer, even if it's only the solitude you get from the lack of another person in there. Other churches house well known works of the great masters, or were even designed by the likes of Michelangelo or Borromini. One church that goes unnoticed by many, but deserves a closer look, is Sant'Ignazio. Just a few minutes walk from the Pantheon.

Before entering the church it worth taking a close look at the piazza in front as well. It was constructed after the church, and, unlike many places in Rome, there was nothing already built there that would dictate the exact shape of the piazza, it was only limited in its small size. The church was built in the middle of the 17th century and has a massive baroque facade. A facade so large that it dwarfs the piazza in front of it. Since enlarging the piazza was impossible they made it a more dynamic space, a stage even. There is a small building that faces the church, maybe sixty feet across the front, but instead of being a square or rectangle, it is a triangle. The streets on either side of it angle back toward the middle of the building, rather than going back perpendicular to the facade. As you stand with your back to the church and watch people come in and out of the piazza they appear as actors coming on and off stage. A couple disappears around one side of the building as a scooter whizzes into view from the other side. You do not see them approaching nor trailing away, they just come and go. It is known as the one Rococo space in Rome.

Now for the church itself. St. Ignatius, a Spaniard, founded the Jesuit order and he came to Rome in 1537 seeking the approval of the Pope for his new Christian order. The aim of his order was to travel the globe spreading the word of Christ. This mission is represented in the ceiling frescoes, the first thing that catches a visitor's eye when he or she enters. The four known continents of the world at the time are each depicted with a representative animal: Asia with a camel, Africa with a crocodile, America with a jaguar and Europe with a horse.

The ceiling fresco, the second largest in Rome after the Sistine Chapel, was done by Andrea Pozzo, a Jesuit brother. Like Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel he paints a considerable amount of false architecture into the ceiling. In the closer up view (below) with St. Ignatius in the upper part, you can see an arch quite well in the lower half. The most fascinating thing about his architectural pieces is the perspective he is able to achieve. The ceiling where the arch is painted is actually curving inward, but the columns and the arch look like they are going away from the viewer. But Pozzo's use of perspective was just getting warmed up...

The two images below are of the dome over the crossing, have close look at see if anything jumps out.

The first image actually looks like a dome, but in the second the perspective is all off. That's because it is not in fact a dome. When they built the church they didn't build strong enough foundations for a large dome, which of course they didn't figure out until well into construction, so they stretched a canvas across the space where a dome should be. As it was the baroque era and one point perspective was all the rage they also decided not to paint a dome as you would see it simply from standing directly under, but from a different angle. There is now a small marble disk between the sets of pews near the front where you get the perfect view of the dome. Pretty neat trick if you ask me.

Nathaniel Hawthorne excerpt from "The Marble Faun"

2009-11-11T11:28:00.001+01:00

"We glance hastily at these things - at this bright sky, and those blue, distant mountains, and at the ruins, Etruscan, Roman, Christian, venerable with a threefold antiquity, and at the company of world-famous statues in the saloon - in the hope of putting the reader into that state of feeling which is experienced oftenest at Rome. It is a vague sense of ponderous remembrances; a perception of such weight and density in a by-gone life, of which this spot was the centre, that the present moment is pressed down or crowded out, and our individual affairs and interests are but half as real, here, as elsewhere."

Faux Amis

2009-11-05T22:19:00.002+01:00

Learning any new language comes with easy missteps that can lead to miscommunicating (at best), embarassing (somewhere in the middle) or offending (at worst). I've become reasonable good at avoiding these situations, but every now and again a little slip of the tongue happens.

A few weeks ago my roommate Domenico and I went to a small town in the Castelli Romani and bought a bunch of new, homemade wine (think beaujolais nouveau - called novello in Italy) and we have been discussing going back to get more to bottle and store for a few months or a year. In one of our recent discussions we were talking about the dangers of storing homemade wine. One of the biggest problems is that it is made without any preservatives, so if not stored properly it can quickly spoil. I made this point, in Italian, and it didn't come off exactly as I wanted. The word for preservatives in Italian is conservanti not preservativi, a difference I knew, but tripped over when speaking quickly. So instead of saying the wine didn't have any preservatives in it, I said it didn't have any condoms in it. Yup, wine without condoms. Oops...

Assisi and San Francesco

2009-11-02T20:11:00.001+01:00

For my mental health I need to get out of the city once a month or so and get some fresh air. Running in the parks here is helpful, but sometimes real woods are necessary. I had read about the trail of San Francesco (St. Francis) and the woods around Assisi where he spent much of his time and thought it would be a perfect destination for this month's escape.

But before I get into my trip there, a little back story on San Francesco. Born in 1181 and baptized Giovanni di Bernardone, in honor of St. John the Baptist. His father, a rich cloth merchant who spent much of his time in France and was quite the francophile, quickly took to calling him Francesco. Young Francesco grew up in the lap of luxury, engaging frequently in large feasts and sporting events. However a few things happened during his young adulthood that showed some insight into his future.

The first, known as the "story of beggar" occurred when Francesco was selling his father's cloth and a beggar came to him asking for alms. He, at first, ignored him, but later left all his father's wares behind and chased after the beggar, giving him everything he had in his pockets. For this act of kindness he was laughed at by his friends and scolded by his father.

When he was 20 years old he went to fight against Perugia and was captured and held in prison for a year, where it is thought he really began to think more about his luxurious ways. Nonetheless on his return home he fell back into his carefree ways. Until he was struck with a mysterious illness that lasted for quite some time and led to an even stronger religious awakening. After he recovered he went off to fight again, this time in Puglia, but returned suddenly following a strange vision.

Upon this return he changed his ways greatly, avoided his old friends and their indulgent feasts, spent his time in the woods or helping lepers in the hospital. His friends, curious about where he had disappeared to, asked if he was planning on getting married. Francesco's response was "yes, to a fairer bride than you have ever seen", which referred to his "lady poverty".

His spiritual transformation was complete when he was praying in the small church of San Damiano, just outside Assisi, and the icon of the Crucified Christ leaned down to him and told him to repair the church because it was obviously falling to ruins. Francesco took this literally and thought he was supposed to fix the church where he was currently praying. In order to do so he starting selling off his father's cloth to pay for supplies. His father did not take too kindly to this and brought his son in front of the town bishop, at which point Francesco renounced his patrimony and resigned to life as a beggar.

He spent his time repairing churches in the countryside surrounding Assisi, in particular the Porziuncola, a small chapel, now surrounded by the much larger baroque church of Santa Maria degli Angeli. After two years of rebuilding churches and living largely as a hermit in the countryside, Francesco heard a sermon that changed his life even more. The sermon was from the Gospel of Matthew in which Christ told his followers that the kingdom of heaven was upon them and to go forward with no money in their pockets, nor shoes on their feet nor staff in hand. Francesco took this to heart and started preaching repentance in the hills of Umbria.

In 1209 Francesco went to Rome in hopes of founding his own order. He met with Pope Innocent III who agreed to informally recognize the group until the grew in number, which they eventually did and were recognized in full. In the later years Francesco traveled the Mediterranean reaching Spain, Morocco and finally Egypt, where he was allowed through the lines of the crusaders to speak with sultan Melek-el-Kamel. He failed in converting the sultan but apparently had such an effect that the sultan asked him to pray to for his soul.

Francesco was also well known for his rapport with animals. In art he is regularly depicted with birds resting on his arms and head. One particularly entertaining story involves the wolf of Gubbio. Gubbio is a small town in Umbria north of Perugia. There was a time when Francesco was living there and a wolf was terrorizing the town. It began when livestock started to disappear but quickly the wolf moved on to human prey. It came to a point that the wolf would linger just outside the town gates and devour anyone who left. Weapons were useless against him and any who tried to fight him met a bitter end.

Francesco took it upon himself, against the urgings of the town, to go talk to the wolf. He left the town with a small group of his followers. When he reached the wolf's lair his followers stayed back as far as possible, but just close enough that they could see the action. The wolf rushed at Francesco with teeth bared. Calmly, the saint made the sign of the cross with his hand and the wolf stopped his attack and walked slowly towards him and sat down at his feet. Francesco proceeded to speak to the wolf and they reached an agreement that the wolf would leave the town alone as long as the citizens would agree to feed him.

This story, among others, were written down in 1390 AD in a manuscript called the Fioretti di San Francesco (Little Flowers of St. Francis). The author is unknown but likely Tuscan. Written almost 200 years after his death the accounts are not viewed as historically accurate but, nevertheless, shed light on the early rise of the Franciscan order.

Enough for background, now to my time in Assisi.

I went with Melissa and her friend Fabiana, who studied in Perugia and spent a good amount of time in Assisi, so she was acting as our guide. Just around the back of the train station is the church of Santa Maria degli Angeli (which I mentioned earlier) where we stopped briefly while waiting for the bus that runs every half hour to the center of town about 2 miles up hill from the station. As far as baroque churches go I was unimpressed, however seeing the original chapel sitting under the crossing, dwarfed by the massive space around it, set up an interesting contrast that would recur throughout the day, the simple life of poverty that Francesco preached, and the elaborate edifices that have been erected in his honor that do not follow that line at all.

After we got the bus up to town we stopped for a quick lunch. Fabiana and I each had strongozzi al tartufo. A long, thin, white pasta made with only flour instead of the normal durum wheat. It was quite tasty. Melissa had a pappardelle al ragu, wide flat fresh pasta with meat sauce that was also good, could have used a little more sauce. After that we split some sausages grilled over an open fire, they were phenomenal. You really can't beat the smokey flavor wood gives to grilled meat.

After lunch we set out for the hermitage where San Francesco spent much of his time while he was in Assisi. It sits up in the hills about four kilometers from the city. Melissa and I were all set to walk, but Fabiana was having little of that so the first car that passed she flagged down and asked for a lift up. It was a station wagon with a family of four, two children probably three and four years old, and things were a bit cramped but they were happy to give us a lift to the top. It was probably a good call because by that point it was already 1:30 and we still had the whole town to see.

We walked into the gate that marked the entrance to the hermitage and the first thing I noticed where the trees. There was an old stone wall on the left side of the path, almost like a retaining wall, what was broken in many place by trees that had grown right through it. Bricks entirely encased by centuries old roots, tree trunks that were as much stone as wood.

The buildings in the hermitage itself were very cramped quarters with doors that my shoulders barely fit through and looked like they were built for eight-year-olds. The refectory still has the original wood benches and tables were San Francesco and his followers ate their simple meals.

After winding through the buildings you come out on a path that leads off into the woods. A few minutes down the path (pictured below) you come to the altar of San Francesco, where he supposedly preached regularly. It is a simple, tranquil place. There is a chair carved out of a single large tree trunk, with a cross hanging from the tree behind it, looking out on four rows of wood benches. These are not original, but I imagine are very similar to how they would have looked. The path continues past the altar running along the hillside or you can follow another down into the valley below. Unfortunately we were a little short of time so we didn't explore the paths all the way out, but I would certainly return to do so. Peering into the woods up the steep slope you almost expected to see the barefoot monk in his coarse robes in discussion with a squirrel.

We came back out of the woods and walked down the hill into town. There were a good number of people making the ascent up to the hermitage, but one thing was very striking among those making the trek. Almost none of them were Italian. We passed Americans, English, Germans, French but only one Italian. The only logical answer I could come up for this was all the Italians were driving up. Typical, avoiding any discomfort.

The buildings of Assisi, like much of Umbria, are made of pink limestone from Monte Subasio, one of the more quarried of the Apennine mountains. The rosy pink color gives the stone a very soft look and offers architects the chance to juxtapose colored stones in a different manner than many other places in Italy. The colors are much closer together than the prevailing dark green and white in Florence, for example. This gives an impressionistic effect to the surfaces, from a distance they are homogeneous but as you get closer the subtleties come out, hundreds of slightly different shades of whites and pinks.

This effect is hard to capture on camera so I don't have a good picture of it, but below is the central piazza of Assisi, Piazza del Comune. At the center of the piazza is the facade of a Roman temple, which stands in its original position, that has been incorporated into a small baroque church.

However, the thing most people come to Assisi to see is the church of San Francesco. Built after his death, it is monumental complex to a man who probably would have avoided its grandeur at all costs. Nevertheless, it is beautiful. The lower basilica and friary were started the year the saint was canonized, 1228, just two years after his death. The lower church was finished in 1230 when a mass was held during which the uncorrupted remains of the saint were interred in the crypt. The burial place was concealed for fear of grave robbers. The upper church was started sometime after 1239 and was finished in 1253 when Pope Innocent IV consecrated both churches.

The entrance to the lower church and then the upper church above.

The friary seen from slightly below.

While the exteriors are impressive, the interiors are more so. Every single surface in the upper church is covered in frescoes. Who painted the individual frescoes seems to change depending on who you ask, Italians say Giotto did the majority, while others say he may have overseen the project but it is unlikely he did much of the actual painting. Other masters of the time (late 13th century) feature prominently as well, with works by Cimabue, Simone Martini and Pietro Cavallini. Small stylistic details lead people to believe Giotto did not paint much himself, but the layout of each scene would insinuate he had a large role in the planning. He was known for his ability to position relatively few figures in the appropriate places to convincingly depict the emotion of a particular scene.

Here's one final picture of the sun setting as we were on our way out of town.

Charles Dickens on the churches of Rome

2009-11-02T17:24:00.003+01:00

"I explored so many churches that I abandoned that part of the enterprise at last, before it was half finished, lest I should never, of my own accord, go to church again, as long as I lived."

Ara Pacis

2009-10-29T21:14:00.005+01:00

One of Rome's more controversial monuments is the Ara Pacis, Altar of Peace. It was commissioned by the Senate in celebration of Augustus, Rome's first emperor, and his accomplishments on the northern frontier from 16-13 BC. It was dedicated on January 30^th, 9 BC. It currently stands along the Tiber on the east side of Hadrian's mausoleum, but was originally on the other side of the mausoleum about five hundred yards southeast in the heart of the Campo Marzio, Field of Mars (Campus Martius in Latin). Over the centuries it became less important in the ever more Christian world and fell into disrepair and, eventually, was buried by silt from the Tiber floods that swept through this low-lying area each year.

By the Renaissance it had completely disappeared from sight and memory. Until one day in 1536 when the wealthy Peretti family was doing some construction on their palazzo that involved reinforcing the foundations. When they dug down they found a few pieces of the Ara Pacis, although they could not dig any more without compromising the integrity of their palace. It was forgotten about again for another three hundred years until new repairs were needed on the same palace, now owned by the Fiano family. This time around the full base of the altar was seen, but again they could do nothing to remove it without risking the collapse of the palace.

In 1903, when the significance of the altar was fully recognized, the Roman Ministry of Public Education decided to explore its removal further. They managed to remove about half of the structure before they had to stop excavations because they were digging in an area that was essentially a swamp with water constantly flooding in. Finally in 1937 under Mussolini and on the two thousandth anniversary of the birth of Augustus it was decided that the entire altar had to be recovered. To do so Mussolini’s top engineers developed an ingenious refrigeration system that they used to freeze the incoming water and therefore prevented any more from coming in. This allowed archeologists to work in drier conditions and remove the entire monument. On September 23^rd 1938, Augustus' 2000th birthday, Mussolini inaugurated the altar in its newly constructed pavilion between the river and the mausoleum.

The altar was housed in a simple glass pavilion until it was decided light was damaging the monument and it needed more protection from the elements. Richard Meier was appointed (without a competition or even outside consultation) as the architect by then mayor Walter Veltroni, and completed the project in 2006. Many Romans hate the new design, saying it is just that, new, and out of place with the rest of the city. It does, however, allow the altar to be seen from the street very well, extends the Via di Ripetta a little farther, and protects the altar with specially coated UV protective glass.

There are rumors that the current mayor of Rome, Gianni Alemanno, is trying to have the museum torn down as part of a new construction plan for the entire piazza that surround the Ara Pacis and Hadrian's Mausoleum. For this project he held a competition and an Italian professor of architecture at Italy's largest university, La Sapienza, was chosen for the project. As with anything in Rome, things are moving at a snails pace so we will see what actually happens, but supposedly they want to move the street that runs along the river there underground to create an open pedestrian space that would carry the piazza all the way to the water. It sounds like it could be beautiful.

I, however, think it would be a shame to tear down the museum. It is not Roman in the traditional sense but even as city as ancient as Rome needs to make steps to move itself toward the future. Without anything to freshen a city, or anything for that matter, it languishes.

Here's a Times article written right after the opening of the museum that speaks non too favorably about it.

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/09/25/arts/design/25paci.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=ara%20pacis&st=cse

Italian on Family Guy

2009-10-28T20:59:00.001+01:00

Looks like a pretty typical Italian argument at the end...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9JhuOicPFZY

Fettucini with sage and pine nuts

2009-10-27T22:35:00.003+01:00

This might be one of the fastest pasta dishes I have every prepared, everything can be done in less time than it takes the water to boil and the pasta to cook. Fresh fettucini only takes about 1 minute, if you can't find fresh then use regular and start the sauce and the nuts when you put the pasta in the water.

1 box fettucini (ideally fresh egg fettucini)
dozen fresh sage leaves - chopped
4 tbsp butter
1/4 cup pine nuts
coarsely grated cheese - either parmesan or pecorino

1. Start pasta water boiling, once it just starts to bubble begin the sauce.

2. In a large pan melt the butter. Add the sage and cook on medium heat, making sure the sage does not burn, if it starts to burn, turn the heat down to low.

3. In small pan brown the pine nuts over medium heat.

4. Cook pasta, add to pan with butter and sage, add pine nuts to pan, toss well. Serve immediately with grated cheese.

Serves 4

Fresh Fish

2009-10-27T17:56:00.003+01:00

Lunch in the kitchen today consisted of fish caught last night by Giorgio, one of the waiters. As it turns out he is a bit of a fisherman himself and sells some of what he catches. However, the less popular fish are often difficult to sell so he either brings them home or to Pierluigi for staff lunch. Among these fish were two bluefish, which I did not think existed in the Mediterranean. luckily I was wrong. Just as in the States, bluefish do not often make it to tables in restaurants here because they are not fish they keep well at all. After the first 24 hours, if not 6 hours, they are a completely different fish. They are very oily and quickly develop that "fishy" taste many people don't like. However, when truly fresh, I don't know that there is a better fish out there. We had them grilled with a little salt and oil and then a lemon wedge squeezed on top and they were delicious. I asked Giorgio when he's going fishing next and he says he goes a few times a week and I'd be welcome to come on his next trip. I've got my fingers crossed this will lead to a somewhat regular supply of lesser known fish.

The rest of the morning went as usual, did the tomatoes, cleaned and then stuffed squash blossoms, chopped tuna scraps, peeled potatoes, helped with the pastas during the lunch rush etc. After the lunch rush came through I helped Alfredo, the fish guy, with the fresh squid. Before frying them you have to remove the small piece of cartilage that is sort of like the spine. It's incredibly mindless work, but goes a lot faster with two people. At one point Alfredo leaned over and said "Fa sonno, no?" (Puts you to sleep huh?). I agreed and we started talking a bit after that. He asked when I was going back to America and when I said probably after the holidays. He looked slightly confused and asked why. I told him about my tour guiding business and wanting to stay around for the one time in the winter when there will likely be tourists in town. He agreed with my logic. He asked a few more questions and was surprised to learn that I had finished college, something most Italians are always in the process of doing.

I saw this as a good opportunity to ask a bit about his past. He is from Peru and graduated from university there in 1999 with a business degree. After two years of looking for work in Lima he gave up and came to Italy. He had some friends and relatives who were already here and could find him work. He came in 2001 and started working as a dishwasher in a large restaurant that did banquets and weddings and the like. He slowly worked his way up the culinary ladder and is now in charge of fish at Pierluigi.

As we were pulling the cartilage out of the baby squid we were also sorting out the cuttlefish that were in same bunch. I asked Alfredo about the differences in cooking them. He said the most important thing about either one is that you remove the ink sack if you're going to do anything other than fry them (hot oil seals the ink in and you don't have to worry about it). He then grabbed one of the cuttlefish, removed the bone, tore the head off and turned the rest of the body inside out, revealing the location of the ink sack, which he expertly removed. The sack itself was about the size of a tear drop, just tiny, but he found it and pulled it out in seconds without rupturing it. He said that one little sack like that could turn a bowl of pasta for four people entirely black. An interesting twist if you're trying to do it, but unpleasant otherwise.

Enoteca Palombi

2009-10-15T13:01:00.000+02:00

For the better part of a year now my roommate Domenico has been telling me that we need to go to an enoteca (winebar) in Testaccio that he went to a few years ago. He described it as a small place that is a store during the day and puts grates up over the shelves in the evening and sets tables in the middle of the store. He was about right, but forgot to mention the basement, which is a cellar with four oddly shaped rooms, floors at all different levels, walls built around ancient stone arches and rough ceilings. All the walls are lined with endless bottles wine and beer, and in the last room of the basement, behind a prison like grille, you can look into best corner of the cellar. Bottles of Amarone, Barolo Gaja, Brunello di Montalcino, covered with a thin film of dust trying to hide the dates on the labels, but not doing a very good job, and so lett you salivate over the thought of a '95 Brunello.

When we sat down we were handed three menus, each was a small book. The first contained wine, the second beer, and the third food. Domenico and I were like kids in a candy store. We passed through the whole thing and he said it was up to me to decide what we were drinking, a made a decent selection, a Montefalco rosso that was reasonably priced at 17 euros. It wasn't the 2000 as advertised, but the 2006, which was still very good.

For food we started out with two plates for everyone to share, we were a group of 7, one of meats and one of cheeses. Each came with 8 varieties on it. I've found most places when this happens you get a couple types of prosciutto, a few salami and maybe something more interesting, and it is often difficult to tell anything apart because they are of average quality and flavors don't stand out. That was not the case here. I'm not as much as expert on cheeses, but the meats were amazing. There was a smoked goose breast (which became my favorite Italian meat over the summer), wild boar mortadella (that melted in your mouth), prosciutto di san daniele (practically a sacred item), a spicy umbrian sausage, just to hit the highlights. In the middle of the cheese plate, on top of some creamy brie, were softened chestnuts soaked in a very mild honey that went well with just about every cheese on the plate. And this was just the appetizers...

A few of my good friends here are vegetarians, which I generally don't hold against them, but last night I might have just a little bit. After we got through the appetizers and ordered dinner there was a clear divide in the table, the vegetarians and the carnivores. Domenico and I ordered a plate of cervo con patate (venison with potatoes). It was not something I have ever seen on an Italian menu and so immediately after seeing it we agreed to give it a go. The other end of the table ordered bruschette or salads. A few mildly inappropriate bambi burger comments later and the line in the sand was drawn. While one half of the table was eating their salads, Jillian, Domenico and I had a feast of our own. Jillian ordered a pappardelle w/ fava beans, pancetta and pecorino to go along with the venison.

When the main courses arrived you could smell the rich earthy aroma of the venison before it even hit the table. The venison was prepared almost like a beef bourguignon. Slow cooked with wine but with much less of the fanfare, no carrots, mushrooms etc. Just delicious chunks of meat that fell apart under the slightest pressure from a fork in a stew of sorts that made for one of the most delicious scarpetta (literally "little shoe", when you scrape the bottom of the plate with bread) ever. Venison is an interesting meat because it is very lean and has a gamey flavor that is too much for some people. Slow cooking it in a stew was something I had never had before, but would certainly try again. It removes any toughness while maintaining the intense flavor. I couldn't help thinking about something Giovanni had once told me about cuts of meats, that ones such as filet mignon may be very tender and easy to cook but they lack flavor because they are not muscles used strenuously. A cut like chuck or round has much more intensity because the muscle is strained frequently. This has two effects, the muscle is stronger, which translates to tougher meat, and more blood flows through it, which translates to more flavor. So you are rewarded with more intense flavor by cooking a cut like that for an extended period of time to soften it.

Needless to say at this point, the venison was unbelievable and I would go back to Palombi for this dish alone, although trying out some more of their wines will be fun as well. After we polished off every drop of juice on the plate with the extra bread they brought, we returned to the conversation on the other end of the table.

Enoteca Palombi
Piazza Testaccio, 38
06.5746122

New Yorkers in the Kitchen again

2009-10-14T19:18:00.006+02:00

A friend from highschool, Jillian, is staying with me in Rome for about a week, and because she speaks decent Italian and is interested in food I thought it wouldn't be too inappropriate to bring her to the kitchen. Fortunately, it turned out I was right, and we came on a day they needed all the help they could get.

We walked into the restaurant and as I was going to get aprons for us I could already hear yelling from the kitchen. They first words I heard upon entering the kitchen were "Siamo in guerra!" (We're at war!). It is generally a pretty tranquil place so it was a bit surprising, especially for 10 in the morning. It turned out the aprons hadn't come back from the cleaners yet, but that wasn't all. On top of that, the gas on one entire side of the restaurant wasn't working. Antonio was not pleased about this. It was unclear exactly who the battle cry was directed at, but Umberto, one of the waiters, was getting the brunt of it. However, Antonio, always jovial, was not being all that serious, or at least was rapidly placated when the gas was finally turned back on.

In the picture below you can see Antonio in the background making a very common Italian gesture. The motion is pinching you middle finger, pointer finger and thumb together, holding your hand out with a slight bend in the elbow (the angrier the less the bend) and move your forearm up a down a bit, shaking your wrist for to show extra agitation. This can be accompanied with a various vulgar sayings, but even a mute can get his point across forcefully. The most appropriate translation would be "What the hell do you want?"

I'm in the foreground going through my morning routine of selecting (good ones in the big bin, bad ones in the small), cleaning and then cutting tomatoes.

After I finished the tomatoes the aprons came and I went downstairs to get the basil. When I returned Antonio suggested Jillian give me a hand with the basil rather than just stand there. However, before she started working, she needed a chef's hat, which Antonio happily went and got for her, whistling all along. He handed it to her, she opened and placed it on her head. Antonio's response was, "adesso e piu carina" (now that's better - or literally - now she's cuter).

Jillian and I blew through the basil pretty easily. When we were finished I went to bring some more things up from the basement and when I got back Giovanni had set Jillian to work cleaning squash blossoms. I had brought a bucket of onions and a bunch of bags of fresh pasta up from the basement and awaited Antonio's instructions on what to do with them. We started with the onions. He wanted them all peeled, and showed me how you usually went about doing it. He held them particularly far away from himself and when I asked why he said so he didn't cry. This seemed like such a logical solution, keep them as far away from your eyes as possible. This was a question I had been too timid to ask for some time. I guess I was expecting someone to say you just get used to it, so this answer was actually comforting.

After the onions I helped set up his mise-en-place, all the little things he gets ready for easy access before the meal kicks in. One of the things he does is divide up portions of the fresh pastas, fettucini, tagliolini, tagliatelle etc. He showed me what each portion looks like, a small fistful, and then said each one should weigh 80 grams. I looked at him skeptically, how can you get them that precise with just your hand? He immediately told me to follow him to the scale, he dropped the ball he had just formed on it, exactly 80 grams. I just started laughing. Guess he's been doing this for a while. It felt a bit like when I asked how he knows when pasta is done cooking and he said "when it feels right". Similar to my dad's explanation for when waffles are cooked, "when they smell brown."

When I finished that we sat down for lunch. We had a very simple fresh basil and tomato pasta, Giovanni's beef with carrots and onions, and potatoes with pancetta and red onions. When we finished lunch and went back into the kitchen, Antonio asked if Jillian and I had had a coffee yet. We hadn't and he immediately marched us back out of the kitchen and said he was going to show me how the espresso machine works. It was a considerably simpler than I had imagined, but better someone showed me that trying to figure it out on my own. He handed us our cups and then said "now you can make your own...and mine."

Coffee having headed of our slight food coma from eating a second helping of potatoes, we were back to work. Antonio needed to make an anchovy ragu so we needed to behead and de-bone a large stack of the little fish. I wasn't quite sure if Jillian would be up for it, but she handled it quite well.

Here's what we started with...

and here's the uglier half of the end result...

After the anchovies, we peeled a pile of shrimp for Giovanni and then Jillian went to stuff the squash blossoms with mozzarella and anchovies while I helped Antonio with the first pasta orders as they started coming in. We got out before the real rush came because of an appointment at the Vatican.

What do Berlusconi and Animal Farm have in common?

2009-10-07T13:59:00.001+02:00

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/europe/article6863882.ece

UK talk show

2009-10-05T22:30:00.002+02:00

I've been a bit busy recently and haven't kept up with Berlusconi's latest shenanigans so here's what the Brits have to say about him

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QaPLtM1iTJw&feature=player_embedded

Sagra dell'Uva

2009-10-05T17:20:00.007+02:00

Grape Festival

For this entry I seriously considered leaving just this picture and the words "Grape Festival" under it, but I suppose it merits slightly more than that.

While poking around the internet for things to do close to Rome to get out of the city for a day or two I came across a website that mentioned a wine festival where a fountain flows with wine instead of water. Needless to say, I was curious. I did a little more research and found out the wine festival was held every year on the first Sunday in October in a little town called Marino, one of the hill towns in the Castelli Romani. One if the longest running wine festivals in Italy, it has been going on since 1924, with a brief hiatus during WWII when the town was heavily bombed by Allied forces.

The reason for the festival, and the fountain of wine, is to commemorate the victory of Marcantonio Colonna in the naval battle of Lepanto in 1571. The battle pitted the Papal armies against the Ottoman empire. The Papal armies' victory lead to security of Rome from the Ottomans. It was also the last major battle between fleets of rowed ships. Marcantonio returned to Marino, a stronghold of his family, with 260 of his men and celebrated with a fountain flowing with wine, hence the current tradition.

We reached the town by a very easy train from Termini, about a half hour ride for 2 euros a person. Once off the train we followed the crowds up the winding stairs that lead to the center of town. The first thing we came to was an L-shaped piazza that had a large terrace off to one side and a small palazzo in the main part. In front of the palazzo were performers waving and tossing flags in the air. They were accompanied by a military band, fitting for the occasion, although I did not find out about the military connection until after so it seemed a bit odd at the time.

Right next to the piazza was the first wine vendor we came across. After buying a large bottle of water and dumping it out we bought our first wine for the afternoon. It was a very light red Cesanese. It's low alcohol content, Domenico guessed no higher then 11%, and sweet flavor made it perfect to drink on a warm afternoon wandering through the crowds.

Here's the main piazza...

We made our way to the front of the crowd and had a good view, but these people had some of the best seats in the house.

I'm notoriously bad for taking people pictures, so here are a few I managed to snap while we were there...Erin on the left, Alice in the middle, and Cyndi on the right.

There's Domenico on the left, Clem in the middle and me on the right.

After watching the flag throwers for a little while we decided to see what else there was to see in town. We thought we were watching the main event, but that turned out to be entirely false. We turned the corner past the palazzo with the flag-throwers in front of it and found main street.

There were thousands of people and enough wine and food vendors to satisfy every last one of them. We tried two other wines throughout the course of the day, one a rather heavy Romanesco, which was quite good, but needed a large cut of meat or a rich pasta to go with it. I don't know what the last wine we tried was but it was made with sangiovese grapes and lightly bubbly, very interesting, and equally fitting for the day as the first Cesanese was. As for food, wandering around town we tried a little bit of everything. The highlight was a great porchetta (slow roasted, stuffed pork) sandwich that was still warm from its day of roasting.

Here's nice shot of us (minus the cameraman) walking back to the train when things started to wind down.

Calcata

2009-10-05T17:04:00.003+02:00

For awhile now I have been trying to make it to a small town about 30 miles north of Rome called Calcata. I have been unable to get there because it is nearly impossible without a car, as best I figured out it would have involved taking the metro to a bus to another bus, and it was basically impossible to find time schedules for the buses so I can only assume they run on every third Sunday at times they don't bother posting. So the only answer was a car. I have been in favor of renting a car in the past but to get somewhere so close for a brief afternoon it did not seem worth the trouble. Finally a friend came through with a car on a weekend. It is still unclear how she got it, it was from her company but she only had it for the weekend, and was not working, not exactly what I think of as a company car for business use, but who am I to complain.

I had heard of this town quite some time ago as the closest equivalent to a little hippie town in all of Italy. Very small, but interesting art scene and a few good restaurants and a gorgeous setting. That was all I needed to hear, but I did some more research, which only fed my fire to want to see it.

Calcata has two very interesting stories, and I will start with the first, more recent one.

A medieval town perched on a rock out-cropping with steep drops on three sides, it was condemned by the Italian state in the 1930's as structurally unsafe. Not just a building or two, the ENTIRE town, structurally unsafe, impressive. Two pictures are below.

After they cleared out all the residents they boarded up the one entrance to the town in the medieval wall. Everyone moved to what became known as Calcata Nuova - New Calcata - which is just to the right of the pictures above - hidden by the tree in the foreground in the top one. In the 1960's artists began moving back into the old town and squatting in the deteriorating medieval structures, which they apparently decided had not moved in 30 years and were not going to move any time soon. After a few years the Italian state reversed the condemnation order and the squatters were able to by up the buildings had been living in. Today the population of the entire town is about 800 and is made up of quite the colorful bunch. From the old man dressed in a rainbow jump suit and gold earrings who spoke with an effeminate smokers voice, to the trinket shop owner who looked like she was ready to walk on stage in Vegas.

The town's second story I had never heard anything about, but gave me quite a laugh. Calcata is known as one of the final resting places of the Holy Prepuce, which, for those not fluent in church speak is the Holy Foreskin.

That's right, this town was a pilgrimage site for Jesus' foreskin.

At various points throughout history there have been as many as 18 different reported locations for this oh-so-holy piece of skin. The most well known and well documented of these was in Rome, where Charlemagne reportedly gave it to Pope Innocent III upon his coronation on Christmas day in 800. It remained in the Sancta Sanctorum of the basilica of San Giovanni in Laterano, across Rome from the Vatican, until the sack of Rome in 1527 when it was seized by a German soldier. I imagine he grabbed it for the richly decorated reliquary it was encased in, not the relic itself. This enterprising soldier only made it as far as Calcata on his way north out of Italy, where he was caught and imprisoned. He hid the relic in his cell and it wasn't until 30 years later that it was found, must have been a large cell, or he took the relic out of the reliquary, not sure I want to know which.

Until 1983 the relic was displayed on the festival of circumcision on Jan 1st, but then it mysteriously disappeared from the shoebox in the back of a priests closet where it was kept. Yes, you read that correctly, the only piece of Christ's body believed to still be on earth was kept in a shoebox in the back of a closet.

A found an interesting article that goes into this in more detail if you're interested.
http://www.slate.com/id/2155745/#sb2155752
And if you're really interested a book also came out this summer about it, An Irreverent Curiosity: In Search of the Church's Strangest Relic in Italy's Oddest Town, David Farley.

Stories aside, the town is a delight to walk around on a sunny fall afternoon. The friend with a car, Laura, had been to Calcata a year or two ago and remember the restaurant a friend had recommended to her so we called and reserved a table. It was called Il Gatto Nero - the black cat.

It was very small, maybe 50 seats in two rooms, and decked out to the nines with everything cat. Cat clocks, cat pictures, cat print table clothes, you get the idea. Even with the odd decorations it was quite charming and really fit with the town. There were four of us for lunch and no one could decide what to order to we all got different things and passed our plates around. There was a fettuccine with wild boar ragu that had that rich gamey taste I love, a fettuccine with mushrooms, a polenta smothered with a rib and sausage ragu, a garden lasagna that had every kind of vegetable imaginable, I mean everything, and for a second course we split a plate of collo di maiali - pig neck - with apple, prune and onion and slow cooked until everything was falling apart. It was unreal. With a liter of wine, two bottles of water and coffees all around at the end, the meal came to a deliciously reasonable 20 euros a head. I'm getting hungry just thinking back on it, and I just had dinner.

Here's Melissa and her roommate Laura in one of the many little piazza/front porch areas we found.

Below is not where we ate lunch, but, if I ever find myself back there, where I will eat. It's a little hard to tell from the picture, but just to the right of the people seated at the table the cliff begins and drops off close to 300 feet. The view looking out is amazing, there is not another structure in site. If you strain your eyes on the valley floor below you might find a small bridge helping a path across the stream, but that's it, nothing else but green.

My Bad

2009-09-24T08:56:00.002+02:00

An order came in for fresh tomatoes with spaghetti, about the easiest dish imaginable, and Antonio handed it off to me. You start by very finely chopping a half of one layer of an onion (no garlic, it overpowers the tomatoes), toss that in the pan with a little bit of olive oil. Let that cook 2 minutes or so until the onion softens, then comes a handful of halved cherry tomatoes, 5-6 leaves of basil and a bit of water. Cover that and let it cook for 5-6 minutes, toss in the spaghetti and you're good. However, I managed to screw this up. Onion and oil, check, tomato and basil, check, water...not exactly. All morning there is a large pot of water that everyone in the kitchen dumps extra veggies to make the veggie broth. At some point fish pieces start going in as well and it becomes fish broth. I didn't see the fish go in and thought it was still just veggie broth and poured a spoonful of it on top of the tomatoes, non va bene (not good) said Antonio. Devi reiniziare dal capo (you need to restart from the beginning). Alfredo, the fish guy who works next to me and is always looking out for me, rinsed the tomatoes for me and we started from the beginning, pasta water this time, no broth.

A few other interesting things happened while I was in the kitchen. An order of tuna with capers and paccheri (big tube pasta) came up. It was pretty slow so the waiter was standing in the kitchen while the pasta was finishing up. Antonio turned to him and asked who ordered it. He said an Italian, to which Antonio replied quindi va bene al dente (so al dente's good then) and he took the pasta out, if it hadn't been an Italian he would have cooked the pasta another minute or two.

Roberto, the owner, came in and asked Antonio for a pasta, and the exchange went something like this:
Roberto: "Antonio, give me a pasta."
Antonio: "Ok, what kind of pasta?"
R: "You're the chef, make a pasta."
A: "How should I know what you want?"
R: "Something fresh, strozzapreti."
A: "We don't have strozzpreti, maccheroni?"
R: "Fine, maccheroni."
A: "Just plain?"
R: "Of course not, when do I ever eat plain pasta?"
A: "So what do you want?"
R: "Something with broccoli."
A: "Just broccoli?"
R: "And some seafood."
A: "What the hell does that mean?"
R: "You know, seafood."
A: "Come on give me something to work with."
R: "Go with clams, mussels and squid."
A: "Ok, now you're being helpful."

This conversation is pretty typical when Roberto orders anything, be it for himself or a friend of his who drops in. He and Antonio must have the same conversation about 5 times a week.

Some other words of wisdom from Antonio...

Mint always with tuna, basil always with swordfish.

Real carbonara and amatriciana are made with guanciale, not pancetta.

When I asked what the difference between the two was, Antonio said guanciale and grabbed his cheek, then said pancetta and poked his ribs. Apparently pig cheek meat is the way to go.

Bramante Cloister

2009-09-16T14:04:00.003+02:00

I have come to realize that I do not work particular well in my room in the morning, it is necessary for me have a destination in the morning to ensure I'm out of bed at a productive hour, just rolling out of bed and sitting at my desk does not do it. In light of that I set out looking for places to work that would be comfortable and have free internet access. In a google search for free wifi in Rome I came across an Italian girl's blog that said she liked to work in the Bramante cloister, attached to Santa Maria della Pace. She described it as "paradiso di wifi", wifi paradise. I was intrigued.

I have been in the cloister a time or two for the exhibitions they run there occasionally (most recently a great show on Caesar that run early in the spring). I don't know how I managed to miss the bookshop/cafeteria there, but I did. Set on the second level of the small square cloister they have a row of higher tables along one, perfect for a quick coffee standing up (pictured below), and along two other sides lower table with three chairs each.

Donato Bramante was from a small town Urbino and spent the early years of his career in Milan. Driven from Milan in 1499 by the invading French army he made his way to Rome. There is talents were quickly recognized by Cardinal della Rovere, who would later became Pope Julius II, a powerful friend to have. So powerful in fact that in 1503 Bramante was appointed lead architect for the new St. Peter's. However, before that, he made his mark in a few hidden corners of Rome. Certainly a student of Vitruvius, Bramante used harmonic proportions to give his buildings an elegant simplicity. The lower row of pillars have engaged Ionic columns set on simple plinths. The arches in the lower arcade lead the eye up to the spaces above, with columns that rest directly above the ones below, but are now of the Corinthian order, a natural progression. In the second level dividing the space a slender Corinthian columns. The solid pillars and appear to continue through two levels ground the whole structure while the slim columns in the second level give a sense of weightlessness to the upper level.

While the tables on the second level do offer a quiet spot to work, unfortunately the internet access is very slow, so not the best place if you need internet speed, but it is pretty deserted in the morning if you're looking for a spot to enjoy the paper or a book. An espresso is 1.50 (same price if you sit), fruit juices run 3 euros, salads and sandwiches start at 8 euros and they also have cocktails for 9 euros, beer and wine start at 3.50 a glass and go up from there.

Almost a regular

2009-09-15T16:30:00.006+02:00

Last week I went to the kitchen on both Tuesday and Thursday, both days were pretty slow with more chopping than anything else. Thursday, however, we did make suppli al tartufo, suppli are little rice balls covered in bread crumbs and then fried, tartufo is truffle. So little truffle rice balls, delicious. I am going to try them at home one of these days and will report on that when I get around to it, the process is rather long, although if you stop about a third of the way through you end up with truffle risotto.

Yesterday was by far my busiest day in the kitchen to date, so busy I did not have a moment to write anything down, as I normally do. The hour and a half before lunch were pretty typical, sorting, cleaning, chopping tomatoes, sorting, cleaning basil, peeling pile of shrimp, and peeling eggplants. Just before we went to sit down for lunch Giovanni was spreading out some rectangles of dough, he called me over and asked me to finish up. I said sure, thinking it couldn't be that hard. It wasn't, but there were a few details I missed. The first thing you have to do is smack the dough, really smack it, so that it will open up more easily. The first go around I didn't do this and the roller practically got stuck. There needs to be plenty of flour on the counter top or the dough sticks to it instead of spreading, and finally, you need to shake the flour off before sticking the dough in the oven. We stuck the 8 trays in the oven and sat down for lunch, which consisted of spaghetti with a tomato basil sauce, potatoes with pancetta and red onion and sauteed beefs strips. When lunch was done so was the bread. They large flat pieces were a sweeter dough, they're used for desserts.

I drained the basil while Antonio was still finishing up his lunch, with requisite two glasses of wine. He came into the kitchen and gave me a tub of mushrooms to clean and cut. When I started cutting and he came over to correct me. Not on my technique, but the size of my cuts. The stems cook more slowly than the tops so the should be thinner, not quite sure why he didn't tell me this the first time I cut mushrooms, but I guess better late than never.

While I was working on the mushrooms Alfredo was going to town on a massive tuna head. The amount of meat he can scrape off a fish is incredible. Every nook and cranny is completely emptied. The scraps he handed to me to cut into smaller cubes to be used in various pasta sauces. After the tuna was done he gave another chunk of fish, something white, maybe a snapper, and I cut that into cubes. While I was working the cutting board, things were starting to pick up in the rest of the kitchen as a larger lunch crowd than usual filtered in. When I was done with all the fish I turned around the Antonio started ordering me around. "Fai uno alle vongole" (Do one with clams - meaning - make a spaghetti alle vongole) "Mi prendi la crema di scampi per due" (Get me crema di scampi for two). For about 15 minutes things were a bit hectic, nothing like a full-on dinner rush, but still, we were moving. I actually put together a good number of dishes and even put a risotto on the plate with a nice dash of parsley on top for some color.

When the rush passed there were still a few things to be done. We were out of squid so I had to slice some up and the cook them (with olive oil, scallions and lots of white wine). Giovanni gave me a stack of eggplant to finely slice for frying later. Then a little clean up and we were out of there. The chefs have a two hour break in the middle of the day and don't like to waste any of it so they do not waste time once three o'clock rolls around.

I had not been in the kitchen at a busy time in a while, in fact the only time was when I first went months ago, and it was very different this time around. What back them seemed like total chaos with everyone doing a hundred different unrelated things at the same time, now seems much more ordered. Still chaotic, but in a logical way, like the streets of New York. Giovanni mans the main courses and hot appetizers while Antonio handles all the pastas, and the two of them work together incredibly well. Shouting back and forth about how much longer things need to cook, how long to wait on a main course after a pasta has gone out, handing things off to others when they need a hand, etc. I think it's a combination of my Italian improving and understanding more about how the kitchen works, but I can know follow an order from when it gets printed up (or a waiter just yells it out), know who has to get started on what and why, and what the finally plate should look like.

I still miss have a sport to play, but walking out of the kitchen covered in sweat after 5 hours of constant action is the closest I've come to getting that fix in awhile.

Pizza Forum

2009-09-13T21:58:00.003+02:00

I went to Naples just after New Years this year and made a troubling discover there. I like Neapolitan pizza better than Roman. Roman pizza has a thin crust, the thinner it is the more Roman it is, whereas Neapolitan has a thick crust. Truly good Neapolitan pizza has that thick crust but is light at the same time, not an easy feat to accomplish. After months of searching and trying restaurants in Rome that claimed to make pizza just like they do in Naples, I finally met a guy from Naples who said he knew what I was looking for. Skeptical at first, I agreed to give it another shot.

We met with a few other friends near the Colosseum and as we were rounding the building I asked if the place was far, to which my new Neapolitan friend, Guido, simply pointed up ahead. I was again skeptical as I have a general rule that anything within two blocks of a monument is going to pretty bad. We walked into the restaurant which is very large and commercial looking, again, skeptical.

Guido ordered a round of appetizers for the table and when the food arrived some of my fears were put to rest, although the real test was yet to come. We had a pizzele, which reminded me of fried dough like you would get at a county fair cover in confectioner sugar, but these had tomato sauce on them, very tasty. Accompanying those were balls of fried mozzarella, also tasty, and a personal favorite, fiori di zucca, zucchini blossoms, although these were empty rather than stuffed with mozzarella and anchovies like the Roman version. After this round I was impressed, and then the pizza came.

As my roommate Domenico pointed out you can tell immediately if the dough is good by pushing down a bit with your thumb and watching it return to its original form quickly. So even before the first bit we liked where things were going. Once we all dug in everyone agreed the pizza was as good as Guido had said. It brought me right back to the place I went to in Naples where I waited an hour just be seated but felt it was entirely worth the wait, this however, is just on the other side of town.

www.pizzaforum.it
Via di San Giovanni in Laterano, 34
06 77591158

Back to It

2009-09-09T18:14:00.004+02:00

After six weeks away getting back into the kitchen went just as expected, exactly the same as before. I arrived a few minutes early and helped Antonio clean out the gas heads on the stove. With so much use they get clogged up every few months and it slows down the gas flow, (maybe that's why the 4th burner on the stove in my apartment won't light?).

After that I was sent downstairs for the tomatoes and basil. Now it may sound like a small accomplishment but I picked, washed, and cut the tomatoes and sorted through and washed all the basil leaves before lunch at 11:30. It's small, but a goal I had been working toward, gotta start somewhere. Watching everyone else fly through simple things like that it felt good to at least feel like I was gaining ground.

While I was sorting the basil Giuseppe was across from me preparing the fiori di zucca (stuffed squash flower) and I picked up a few helpful things. I tried to make these while I was home to moderate success, the taste was there but they did not look particularly appetizing. To start Giuseppe took a dozen or so large anchovies, the much bigger version of what we have in the States, and removed the spines. After that he cut three large mozzarella balls into cubes. He then combined the anchovies with the mozz cubes and proceeded to dice them finely together, leaving a sort of mash of oily fish and cheese. He took a small handful, more a palmful I guess, of this mash and gently pressed it into the bottom of the squash blossoms. The key difference in his preparation and mine was that the blossoms he used were considerably larger than the ones I had so there was much more space to fill with fish and cheese.

After that was done we sat down for lunch, a rigatoni with tomato sauce made by Antonio and fried scamorza (smoked cheese) with prosciutto and a side of potatoes with red onions and pancetta made by Giovanni.

After lunch I helped Giuseppe peel the shrimp, I think I've caught up to about 1.5 for each 1 he does. His three motion method (remove the head, grab the legs and rotate so the middle shell comes off and then pull the tail) is working a little better for me, but sometimes a bit of the tail comes of as well, not just the shell.

When the shrimp were done I turned to Antonio and he handed me a bin of mushrooms to finely slice. My knife skills are certainly getting better, although more through Lorenzo's help whenever he comes through the kitchen than Antonio's. Antonio showed me the easiest way to cut the mushrooms (in the half and the narrowest point so you get two wider, flatter pieces and then lay that flat side down on the cutting board and slice), but then left me to my own devices. Mushrooms are not the a very consistent size or shape so make all the slices similar shape was interesting and I guess I was chopping too much. Lorenzo came into the kitchen by chance and stopped me in the middle of what I was doing. First problem, I was cutting with the knife at an angle to the cutting board, rather than parallel to the sides. Second problem, while I was using my nails to hold the mushroom, so as not to cut my finger, they needed to be curled in more to really avoid slicing myself. Third, I was chopping too much, the tip/front part of the blade should never leave the cutting board and that forces you to cut in more of a sliding back and forth motion rather than up and down. Fourth, and final, I was hunching over the board to see what I was doing better, your back should always be straight. I never thought I could be so off just cutting up some veggies. For next time, I'm going to work on the form, hopefully speed will come with time.

When I made it through the mushrooms Giovanni had a tub of eggplant skins to by sliced very thin. These are served batter in flour and then deep fried, either by themselves or on top of some pasta dishes. Those finished and no other major projects, all the sauces were still holding up and didn't need remaking, I helped Antonio put together a few spaghetti alle vongole and then I was off. He actually let me do just about the whole thing this time, except for plating them. Pan with olive oil, a smashed garlic clove and a chili pepper, let the garlic soften, add the clams and chopped parlsey, a cup of wine, a cup of pasta water, cover, and you're set.

La Montecarlo

2009-09-08T19:03:00.003+02:00

Everyone will argue for hours over where the best pizza in Rome (or New York for that matter) is, but this restaurant needs to be somewhere in the conversation. One of my arguments for its quality is that it's around the corner from the ever crowded Da Buffetto, which is perpetually full of tourists but hardly a single Italian to be found. All the Italians are around the corner at La Montecarlo where there is usually a wait, but not nearly as long it can be at Da Buffetto.

For starters they do a great fritto misto that comes with fiori di zucca (stuffed squash blossom), suppli (ball of fried rice) and either balls of fried mozzarella or stuffed olives. Those start at 6 euros for one person and go up 3 euros per person. The pizzas are reasonably priced (6-8 euros) and incredibly large, but so thin that one person can quite easily finish them. They are served on metal plates, which confused me at first, but then some explained to me that the metal keeps the crust warmer for longer, good enough explanation for me.

The kicker here is the service, which is so aloof its entertaining. A typical night there starts out when one of the waiters finds you a table, but then his boss comes out and says you can't sit there and he sits a group of attractive women who arrived 5 minutes after you. Once you are finally seated, it doesn't take that long, you order pizza and the waiter practically forces you to order the fritto misto, suggesting you split an order for half as many of you as there are, so an order for 2 for 4 people. As soon as the pizzas are ready they bring them out to the table, regardless of whether you have finished your round of starters or not. And as soon as your pizzas are finished they ask if you want anything for dessert. If the answer is no, the waiter will disappear for about 2 minutes and return to write the amount you owe on the paper table cloth.

Even with all that you never complain because the pizza is fantastic and price, especially for the center of town, is great. You should get some change back on 15 euros and walk away full and feeling the house wine.

Gelateria del Teatro

2009-09-08T18:47:00.003+02:00

After a year in Rome I thought I had found most of the good gelato places, but that is obviously not the case. I was walking around and stumbled upon this little hole in the wall. It is on Via di S. Simone, which is a dead end no more than 100 feet long, right off Via dei Coronari. They proudly display their write up in Lonely Planet in the window as well as their means of all natural production. The flavors range from the typical pistacchio and cioccolato to more interesting fondente al nero d'avola (dark chocolate with red wine) and tartufo (truffle). I had a sage and raspberry alongside white chocolate that was incredible.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe after 4 days in Rome

2009-09-08T18:45:00.002+02:00

"As I rush about Rome looking at the major monuments, the immensity of the place has a quietening effect. In other places one has to search for the important points of interest; here they crowd in on one in profusion. Wherever you turn your eyes, every kind of vista, near and distant, confronts you - palaces, ruins, gardens, wildernesses, small houses, stables, triumphal arches, columns - all of them often so close together that they could be sketched on a single sheet of paper. One would need a thousand styluses to write with. What can one do here with a single pen? And then, in the evening, one feels exhausted after so much looking and admiring."

Berlusconi on the Daily Show

2009-07-24T21:44:00.000+02:00

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-june-9-2009/silvio-berlusconi-s-affair

Casa del Jazz

2009-07-23T21:57:00.004+02:00

My last weekend in Rome I found myself at the Casa del Jazz, which I had been talking about going to with my roommates for some months now. I have no idea why we waited so long.

A little hard to reach, about a 15 minute walk from the Piramide metro station, this villa houses one of Rome's better Jazz establishments. They run year round, outdoors in the summer and in the small auditorium in the other months. In the summer, concerts start at 9, just after sunset.

As you walk in before reaching the ticket office you pass the restaurant, pictured below. Where you can eat on the terrace and enjoy the sounds of the concert in the background, I didn't look but I imagine they're prices are pretty steep, might be worth checking out though.

The stage, set in the field next to the main villa, sits in front of a row of umbrella pines which give a theatrical backdrop to the musical performances.

I went on Saturday night and heard a quintet that was co-lead by Joe Locke (an American) on the vibraphone and Rosario Giuliani, one of the top Italian sax players. I had never heard a jazz vibraphone and was skeptical at first when they started playing and the vibraphone was drowned out by the other instruments on stage. However, my fears were quickly set aside as he slowly started playing louder and louder throughout the course of the first piece which came to a climax with a solo. Once he got going you could hardly see his hands moving, the tips of the batons looked like something out of the Matrix, just a blur of motion producing an amazing sound.

The Casa del Jazz doesn't offer much in the way of food, but they do have a kebab stand (5 euros, pay at the bar first) which are considerably better then the ones you typically get in Rome and a lot less greasier. And the bar offers 3.50 euro pints of beer on tap.

www.casajazz.it

Fettucini con funghi porcini

2009-07-18T17:47:00.004+02:00

Fettucini with porcini mushrooms

3 garlic cloves
oil olive
1 - 1 1/4 lbs porcini mushrooms
1 box fettucini pasta - ideally fresh egg pasta

1. Rinse mushrooms and slice. Put in bowl of water with strainer to sit for about an hour so they get really clean.

2. Finely chop garlic, put in pan with oil over medium heat, cook 3-4 minutes, don't brown garlic.

3. After straining mushrooms, toss in pan with oil and garlic, cook for 45 minutes to an hour until water has been cooked away (mushrooms have a very high water content).

4. Cook pasta in water with good amount of sea salt and add directly to pan with mushrooms. Combine thoroughly and serve immediately.

Serves 4

Sicily

2009-07-16T12:09:00.009+02:00

What follows is not a step by step explanation of my trip down to Sicily, but more the important and more interesting things encountered down there.

I have heard many things about Sicily and the first thing that comes to mind for many people when thinking about Sicily is the Godfather and all the mafia connotations that come along with that. So going into the trip down there my friend Eric and I already had some skewed perceptions, the majority of which turned out to be true. Here are a few examples, some mundane, other not so much: Sicily has some of the best beaches in Italy along with some of the wildest countryside, Sicilians drive like mad man, Sicilians will readily screw over foreigners, the mafia still does run things. Two of these were proved almost immediately on landing in Palermo. The landing strip in Palermo is situated between the sea and a massive rock outcropping that must be close to 300 feet tall looming over the airport. This was just a taste of the natural beauty to come.

We had a rental car for the weekend (reserved through easycar.com, which easily has the cheapest rates out there) and it became readily apparent that driving laws in Sicily are truly on suggestions, and how fast you go on the highway was directly equivalent to how fast your car could go. We had a new Fiat punto which certainly held its own, but we were routinely passed by Alpha Romeos and BMWs who must have been going close to 100 mph. There are also frequently times when a two lane road is used as if there were another lane in the middle for cars to pass. This becomes somewhat of a team effort, as the car being passed pulls as far to the right as possible, the car passing floors it drives directly down the middle of the road, and the car coming the other direction hopes the shoulder holds together as he edges as far over as possible on his side. A somewhat frightening experience when all you see is two cars bearing down on you taking up a lane and a half.

Driving from Palermo practically due south through the interior of Sicily along Autostrada (highway) A29 is one of the more beautiful strips of road I've ever driven down. Sicily is just one vineyard and olive orchard after another. The uncultivated land is all very dry tall grass and that is combined in all the farm land in mixed shades of green that give the countryside the look of a never ending checker board painted by Picasso with a hundred subtly different greens and browns.

We spent the bulk of our time there on the beach but we did have one cultural day. We drove to Agrigento to see the Valley of Temples, part of the ancient Greek city of Akragas, founded around 570 BC. Sicily and Southern Italy were a part of Magna Grecia (Greater Greece) and the southern coast of Sicily (centered around Agrigento) has the highest concentration of Greek temples still standing to this day. The Valley of Temples is actually a ridge above a valley that is home to five temples in various states of preservation that were built throughout the 4th century BC. The best preserved is below, with Eric and me standing in front of it, Temple of Concordia.

However, our trip the temples was curtailed by two unfortunate factors. Just before the above picture was taken, my flip flop broke, see picture below, and shortly after Eric blood sugar bottomed out. Naturally we were about a fifteen minute walk across unfortunately sharp gravel back to the car. With our visit cut short Eric and I slowly made our way back to the car, me quasi dragging my right foot and Eric trudging ahead.

Although I would have liked to spend a bit more time at the temples it was great to finally see an original Greek temple in person after years of studying them. While not quite the Parthenon, the temples here were impressive and what I found very interesting was the quality of the stone the Greeks used (not sure exactly what kind) and its almost sand washed look. Had I gone straight the the temples without seeing a little bit of Sicily first I might not have recognized it, but the stone is the same that is used all across Sicily still today. Most evidently in larger churches, but even in smaller buildings. The stone, whether its 2500 years old or 50, has a sandy quality that looks worn down regardless of its age. Its effect gives the whole island a sense of timelessness, not in the sense that it doesn't age, but that it has all aged an uncertain amount. A piece of stone may have been used two thousand years ago and now makes up the beam above a small church door, but because it all has the same image it's hard to tell exactly when things come from. Driving through the countryside there are plenty of ruined buildings that could be from year 1000 or 1960, simple structures made of stone that have probably followed similar construction methods for eons.

After the Valley of Temples we headed inland to a small town called Villarosa where Eric's great-grand parents were born and married. I asked most of the Sicilians we came across the two days before and none of them had heard of the town, obviously not the biggest dot on the map. As we drove north from Agrigento the mixture of brown and green that was about even near the coast slowly shifted toward more and more brown until final the rolling landscape was almost all a light brown dotted with the occasional patch of vineyard or olive orchard. We turned off the highway and drove up the side of a large hill, switchbacks all the way, and made our way into the center of town.

We parked the car and walked into the bar (coffee shop) and asked with there was a restaurant open for lunch. We were informed there were two restaurants in town and the guy we asked very kindly walked us up to the main piazza and pointed down the street to the restaurant. He then very enthusiastically shook both our hands, guess they don't get many visitors. Lunch was nothing special but after lunch I asked the owner of the restaurant, a man somewhere in his 60s, if he knew Eric family name, Agnello. He said that he did but they had all either moved away or died. There was not much to see in the town, the restaurant owner actually laughed when I asked, so after lunch we hopped back in the car and head to Sciacca. The picture below is Eric standing in front of the church were his great-grand parents were married.

Aside from the trip to Agrigento and Villarosa, we spent the bulk of the trip behaving as you should in Sicily in the summer, hanging out on the beach, drinking cold white wine and eating fish. The closest town to the resort where Florian is working is called Sciacca, and is little more than a port city. There is one main town square that has a beautiful terrace the overlooks the port, a few small bars and a good pizza place or two. Nearby there a few small beaches, and that's about it.

We spent almost a full days at the beach in Eraclea Minoa and spent 2 hours floating around on a paddle boat with 8 people, certainly more than they were designed for.

While sitting around the beach we heard a few stories that confirmed the third and fourth preconceptions of Sicily.

Two British guys run the golf shop at the resort where Florian is working, the Verdura, and they are in the market for a car. The day we were on the beach they had been to see a car in the morning which one of the Italians working at the resort had found for them. The price that had been discussed over the phone, with the Italian speaking on their behalf was 4,000 euros. When they arrived in person and the seller realized they were not Sicilian the price jumped to 6,000. No questions, no negotiations, just a new price for foreigners.

The other stories we heard were about the problems the hotel has been having with the mob. The architect for the project is Sicilian, but not the one the mob wanted, so his car has been blown up three times. He was never in it, but still. When they finished construction on the top fifteen largest suites they were immediately burned. They have massive bullet proof panes of glass on presidential suite which has been shot on a number of occasions, not breaking it, but damaging enough that it needs to be replaced, at a cost of 10,000 euros a pane. The resort recently opened and apparently things are running a little more smoothly these days, I guess they found the right people to pay off.

Old men sitting in the main piazza at sunset just haning out, apparently the building behind them is the town's mens' club where they play cards and shoot pool.

Florian and I sitting outside his local bar, Caffe delle Rosse in front of the church below.

The basilica in Sciacca, with an oddly unfinished facade.

Florian, me, Daniela and Martina enjoying a glass of wine and some watermelon after dinner in the little piazza in front of the apartment Eric and I were staying in.

My attempt at being artistic on the beach at the nature reserve Eric and I stumbled upon while driving around the coast near Sciacca.

A Kitchen full of New Yorkers

2009-07-07T15:44:00.006+02:00

When I got to the restaurant this morning the first thing Antonio told me was that there might be someone else coming to observe how things worked along with me. Sure enough about then minutes later another American showed up. His name's Nick and he is one of the chef's at Gramercy Tavern in New York. He grew up in the City, went to Regis for high school and then studied Art History at Columbia but decided in his semester abroad in Rome that he wanted to go into the professional food industry, and the rest is history. He is in Rome for two weeks researching a new restaurant that Danny Meyer will be opening in the Gramercy Park Hotel and where he will be, I think, the head chef. Basically he is in Rome eating as many different things as possible, not a bad way to spend two weeks.

Other than showing Nick around the kitchen a little bit, it was business as usual. I cleaned and chopped tomatoes, brought various veggies up from the walk in refrigerator in the basement, brought up a bunch of pasta, sorted and rinsed the basil etc etc. Today we made a mushroom sauce that can be used as a base for just about anything. The sauce really didn't have anything to it, olive oil, finely chopped garlic and porcini mushrooms. Nick chopped the mushrooms (much more efficiently than I would have) and then put them in a strainer in a bowl to sit for an hour or so in order to clean them. After lunch I strained the chopped mushrooms and Antonio told me to chop up about 15 garlic cloves. When I was finished he threw the garlic in a pan with some oil and let it cook for 3-4 minutes, then he tossed in the mushrooms and let them cook for about an hour, stirring pretty regularly. And that was that.

After he had put the mushrooms in the pan a delivery of various shellfish came in, including something I have neither seen nor heard of, Alfredo called it a sea bug in English. The best way I can think to describe it is a cross between an armadillo and a spiny lobster. Apparently they are rather irritable and when placed on the counter one of them started to scamper away (towards the floor) and when touch sort of jumped around a little bit, Nick caught the whole thing on video. It really is a madhouse in that kitchen.

Lunch was pretty slow, I cleaned and chopped a bunch of tuna and sword fish, which I can know skin relatively quickly, made a few trips to the basement for some pasta. At one point Antonio sent Nick and me down with very specific instructions of which type of pasta and which brand he wanted. We managed to mix up the types and the brand and were sent back down. On your second trip up the stairs we almost simultaneously asked how many Americans it takes to pick out the right kind of pasta. Obviously more than two.

As lunch was winding down and I was about to head out Lorenzo came into the kitchen with a plate of raw scampi and shrimp. He looked around the kitchen and everyone was more or less occupied except for myself so he yelled across the room asking if I could put together the plate, raw over a bed of arugula. I said of course, which has become my general answer even when I'm not all sure what is going on, but assume I can figure it out as I go along, or someone will chime in with a helping hint or hand at the right time. So I managed to grab the wrong plate to start and then took too much arugula, but in the end with a little help from Alfredo deveining the shrimp I got the plate back out of the kitchen in 2 or 3 minutes.

Miscellanea

2009-07-06T16:22:00.003+02:00

Touted as an International Student bar, this bar/restaurant caters to largely to the student crowd, but during lunch hours on week days you'll see a good amount of Italians in suits having a quick lunch. As far as price to quality ratio goes they are hard to top. They serve pasta dishes, which I confess I haven't tried but I have heard good things about, but I always have their rice salads or panini when I go. The rice salads are 6 euros and have a good amount of white rice with a hearty portion of various veggies on top, a very filling and reasonably healthy lunch. Today I had the Monti e Mare (mountains and sea) that came with arugula, potatoes, tomatoes, black olives, artichokes, tuna and baby shrimp all over a bed of rice. Pizzas are also 6 euros across the board and are typical Roman thin crust. They have 5 or 6 different beers on tap which run 4.50 for a media (a pint). The well stocked bar has just about anything you can think of, although the wine selection is pretty thin. If you mention you saw them in on the 'Let's Go' or Rick Steves guide books they give you a free glass of the house dessert wine, fragolino, a slightly fizzy strawberry drink.

They recently moved locations but there is a sign on their old spot directing you to the new one. They are now on Via Palombella just off the back right corner of the Pantheon.

Ostia, Gate 8

2009-07-06T15:52:00.004+02:00

For the 4th of July this past weekend we rallied a few Americans to head to the beach. In the end the group consisted of 4 Americans, a Scot and a handful of Italians. In spirit of the day made steak sandwiches, bought some budweisers and a cooler, and brought the football out to the beach. I try not to stick out as that American too often, but sometimes it's just necessary.

Here I am at the train station proudly wearing my SAE t-shirt which had not seen the light of day in many months. The cooler contained steak sandwiches, buds on ice, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, potato chips and iced tea - awesomely American.

The afternoon consisted of some reading, some swimming, a little pigskin, two games of volley ball, frisbee in the waves (well, small waves), and a very nice dinner as the sun set. Here are they Americans...

To get to Ostia you need to catch the train from Piramide (on metro line A). It stops at the beach clubs (lido) closer to the main port, but to get to a beach where you'd actually want to swim you need to take it to the end of the line (Cristofo Columbo) and then take a bus (07 or 070) along the beach to the gate you want, we to #8 which was quite nice. There is a snack bar, locker rooms, beach chairs for rent and a decent crowd of people, a little more geared toward the younger side, as opposed to some other spots that are popular with families.

Taverna 40

2009-07-06T15:40:00.003+02:00

The few square blocks on the backside of the Colosseum are overrun with some of Rome's more unfortunate excuses for Italian food, however there is one spot that shines out. A little farther back, along the road that leads to Villa Celimontana, is Taverna 40, a very simple trattoria that serves good pastas and pizzas. Their pizza is typical Roman, very thin crust cooked in a hot wood oven for a minute or two. I had the a very nice strozzaprete (literally, strangled priests) pasta with gorgonzola and zucchini. The house red, a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, comes in liter bottles that are served chilled, perfect for a steamy summer evening, and for 11 euros is quite good.

Dinner for two came to 34 euros with a fiori di zucca to start, a pizza for Melissa, my pasta, a bottle of wine and a bottle of water.

Via Claudia, 24

Bar Taruga

2009-07-05T18:00:00.003+02:00

Situated in the heart of the Jewish Ghetto this interesting bar faces one of Rome's more beautiful small piazzas, Piazza Mattei. The centerpiece of the piazza, the Fontana delle Tartarughe (Fountain of the Turtles) was originally designed by Giacomo della Porta in 1581 (without the turtles) and then either Bernini or Andrea Sacchi added the turtles as part of a commission by Pope Alexander VII. It is one of the lighter, more playful fountains in Rome and a favorite of many.

The bar is small and most people order a drink and sit on the few chairs and stools in front of the bar or on the railings surrounding the fountain itself. There are generally only one or two people manning the bar so service can be a bit slow, but it is never particularly crowded as drinks are a bit expensive (10 euros for cocktails) so most people only have a drink or two. It is a great spot for an ice cold mojito on a hot summer night.

The piazza featured in 'The Talented Mr. Ripley' and I have heard various rumors that it was also the bar that Matt Damon and co. frequented while they were filming in Rome. I saw the movie too long ago to remember the bar exactly but someone told me the only time it appears is when they are dragging a body through the piazza...

The interior decoration is interesting to say the least...

The name is a play on words in Italian, tartaruga is the word for turtle, so Bar Taruga is playing off that.

Piazza Mattei n. 9 tel. 06 6892299
About a ten minute walk from either Piazza Venezia or Campo de' Fiori

Terme di Caracalla and more

2009-07-05T17:47:00.003+02:00

Le Terme di Caracalla (The Baths of Caracalla) were built the early part of the 3rd century AD by emperor of the same name, who murdered his brother to become achieve his title. They were in operation for the better part of three centuries, until the invading goths cut off the water flow of the aqueducts in the 6th century. Roman baths were not a place solely for cleaning, they were a full service fitness center, library, out door sporting complex and social center all rolled into one. A Roman could spend the entire day here (they normally only spent half the day). One could start by getting some exercise wrestling, running, or boxing, from there move to the actually bathing section to clean off, brush up on Plato or Plautus in one of the two libraries (one for Greek texts and one for Latin ones) and then talk some business in a slightly less formal setting then the Forum nearby.

While baths did serve all these functions, they were built primarily for bathing, and that is were their architectural aspects come into play. Romans took their bathing very seriously, no two minute showers on the way to work. There were three rooms that one progressed through, starting in the frigidarium (cold room), moving then to the tepidarium (warm) and then to the caldarium (hot). These rooms were heated by an ingenious system of pipes that ran underneath the whole complex and, if laid in a straight line, would have stretched almost ten miles.

To put the size of this complex in perspective here are a few numbers lifted from Wikipedia:

Principal dimensions
Precinct maximum: 412x393M
Internal: 323x323M
Central Block overall: 218x112M
Swimming Pool: 54x23M
Frigidarium: 59x24M height c. 41M
Caldarium: 35M diameter height c. 44M
Internal courts: 67x29M

Quantities of materials
Pozzolanna: 341,000 Cu. M
Quick lime: 35,000 Cu. M
Tufa: 341,000 Cu. M
Basalt for foundations: 150,000 Cu. M
Brick pieces for facing: 17.5 million
Large Bricks: 520,000
Marble columns in Central block: 252
Marble for columns and decorations: 6,300 Cu. M

Estimated average labour figures on site
Excavation: 5,200 men
Substructure: 9,500 men
Central Block: 4,500 men
Decoration: 1,800 men

Walking through the complex today one can still see the general layout and certainly get a sense of the grand scale on which they were built. The thing that is hard to picture is the unbelievable amount of decoration that would have covered every inch of the interior. There are a few pieces of mosaics strewn about the grounds and a few patches of floor still intact, but they must be less than one-thousandth of that was there originally. These were certainly built by the emperor as a way to show off his wealth, and it would have been hard not to enter the complex and be impressed.

A few other interesting facts about the complex:
They served 1,600 Romans everyday.
Two of the massive bathtubs can still be seen today, but not on site, they make up the fountains in Piazza Farnese.
In the 12th century 22 columns were removed and used in the nave of Santa Maria in Trastevere.
They heavily influenced the design of Penn Station in New York.
The site was the only one in Rome damaged by the earthquake in L'Aquila (only slightly).

Massive pillars that supported the roof over the main hall.

The hallway that connected all three bathing sections.

In the summer the baths serve an entirely different purpose, they become Rome's grandest theater setting. Through the months of July and August performances take place four or five nights a week, most are operas, but there are also some ballets. Friday night I was lucky enough to see Felix Mendelssohn's take on A Midsummer Night's Dream.

The show began at 9:00 and with sunset a little before that the sky was still pretty light when we arrived, but by the time the show started, only 10 minutes or so late, the sky had turned to that azure blue tint that artists strove to mimic by grinding up precious lapis lazuli. The sunset to the east (left of the stage) left a hint of purple in sky as well.

Shortly after the opening scene the sky had gone dark, it was a muggy Roman evening with clouds obscuring all but the most ambitious stars. They production itself was interesting. I was doubtful at first of how Shakespeare would go over without any words, like the Sistine Chapel in black and white. I was pleasantly surprised however. Midsummer Night's Dream in particular lends itself to ballet and music through the many instances of confusion and hilarity. Lover's playing tug-of-war with each other limbs was a common occurrence. The scene below is when the lovers have first been doused, incorrectly, with Oberon's love potion and are confused chasing after one another. To add to the laughter of the crowd, three seagulls flew over head at this exact moment laughing a loud at the scene below them.

Melissa knows considerably more about dance than I and had a few comments about the imprecision of the Italian dancers, she felt if they were French things would have been smoother. After she made the comment I agreed and sort of saw what she meant, although I don't know that I would have noticed myself.

The most powerful impression of that one takes away from seeing a performance here is the sharp contrast between the massive buildings looming behind the stage and the grace of the dancers on stage in front. Melissa commented on the gravitas of the ruins and the delicate wooden set on the stage, yet another point of contrast. Looking back a few days later I agree with both of these as interesting ideas, but what left the greatest impression on me is how whole experience sums up much of what it's like living in Rome. The city itself hardly ever changes, and serves as a backdrop for our daily lives here, but those lives are constantly coming and going. Most foreigners come to Rome for short stays, even those who come to work stay for months at a time, maybe a year, maybe two, always just a drop in the bucket in the city's view. Much the same as the outdoor performances come and go each summer, they set up shop for a few months and then move on, but the baths are still there watching all the less permanent things pass by.

Feeling at home

2009-07-02T17:30:00.005+02:00

My presence at Pierluigi on Tuesday mornings has now become more or less routine, both as part of my schedule and everyone else in the kitchen. I arrived this week and Antonio, after offering me a coffee, sent me down to the fridges in the basement to get all the veggies he would need for the day. The first time he sent me down he told me to get carrots, celery, onions, tomatoes and zucchini, I asked how much and he said 'tutto quanto' (the whole lot) and so I brought back up a full tray of each, thinking to myself it was a bit much, but that it's a big kitchen so it could be about right. I was wrong, after a few laughs from Antonio and Giovanni, he took what he needed, about a hand full of each, and sent me back downstairs with the rest. This week I knew what to get, so that all went a little smoother. I got everything and set about cleaning the tomatoes and getting ready to chop them.

Just as I was set to start cutting Antonio called me over to show me the first steps of another version of ragu di alici (literally anchovy ragu, but using what we would call sardines). He started with white onions ground in the meat grinder in a large pot with olive oil. That cooked for about five minutes and then we added ground pine nuts and finocchiette (finocchio is fennel and finocchiette are the little shoots coming off the main plant, feathery leaves might be the best way to describe them), and that cooked for about another five minutes. After that we put in peeled, ground tomatoes with a little more finocchiette, and the sardines (half canned and half fresh). He poured a gallon or so of water into the mix and left it to cook, at which point I returned to the cutting board.

After finished the tomatoes, and picking and washing the basil it was time for lunch. We had a simple spaghetti with tomatoes and basil, polpette (hamburger shaped meatballs) and green beans with red onions and tomatoes. One thing I have come to realize in Italy is that meatballs are never eaten with spaghetti, or even sauce for that matter. Every time I have seen them served it has been just the meat itself, nothing else. Not sure where the Americanized spaghetti and meatballs came from, maybe somewhere in northern Italy I haven't been yet, who knows.

I ate my lunch pretty quickly and returned to the kitchen where I found Giovanni peeling boiled shrimp. I started peeling as well and this time I was a little faster, I think he only peeled double the amount I did, as opposed to triple the last time. As I was cleaning off the counter where we peeled the shrimp I looked up and saw two medium size fishhooks, with bits of line still attached, sitting on the shelf at eye level, a glance into how the fish make it from ocean to kitchen.

Antonio returned from his lunch and gave me a bowl of tuna to de-vein and chop up for later use. While I was doing that he made final preparations for lunch. I had to leave a little on the early side, but I stuck around long enough to see the final touches of the sardine ragu. Earlier in the morning we had put a few cups of raisins in a bowl of luke-warm water to soak for awhile. By this point they had been soaking for about two hours, and we dumped them into the pot with everything else, along with some full sardines. The final ingredient was a reux (flour mixed with water or oil). When we originally drained the sardine cans Antonio had conserved the oil. He poured that into a pan and let it heat for a few minutes. Once it was quite hot I started shaking flour into the pan as he stirred with a whisk. I'd guess the proportions were about one to one, flour to oil and I poured the flour in quickly at first, and then more slowly as it started to thicken. Once that was done, a texture that almost held its shape, we dumped it into the pot with a few fennel seeds and a dash of black pepper. At this point all the ingredients were in, it just had to cook for a little longer, not sure exactly how long, but no more than an hour, because we were done putting everything in at 2 and the kitchen closes at 3 for the afternoon.

Obika

2009-07-02T16:07:00.003+02:00

Prices on Campo de' Fiori went up about a month an a half to make sure tourists get taken for as much as possible in the busier months. A bottle of wine that was 13 euros all winter and into the spring now costs 20 euros at the Vineria Reggio, and similar prices have taken hold just about everywhere else on the piazza. Surprisingly in these seasonal changes, one place, newly open Obika still has a bottle of wine for 15 euros sitting on a table. Obika is a chain of mozzarella bars owned by the Bulgari group that is rapidly expanding, just last year they were only in Italy and now they have locations in New York, London, Tokyo and Kuwait City. Rome has two locations, the original in Piazza di Firenze, two blocks from Parliament, and the new location in Campo de' Fiori. Lorenzo's family owns the building and until December they ran one of the most popular bars on Campo, Taverna del Campo, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble so they are currently leasing the space to Obika.

Obika started in northern Italy, either Milan or Turin, and is famous for two things, their mozzarella and their aperitivo. They offer 4 types of mozz that range from creamy and sweet to smoked and powerfully flavored. Plates with one of the four and a selection from their list of toppings run from 9.50-19 euros, the cheese can be accompanied with just about anything from tomatoes and pesto to prosciutto to smoked salmon. The also have tasting trays of the four types, the smaller is 18 euros and the larger is 27. Based largely on these cheeses, the menu extends somewhat to some pasta dishes and salads, but most people go for smaller plates of cheese and other things to nibble on, such as the mozzarella rolls.

For aperitivo they do not have a buffet, as many in Rome do, but they bring a nice selection of 4 or 5 different tastes with your glass of wine or cocktail (8 euros w/ wine, 10 w/ cocktail). The selection varies from night to night, but when I went I had two crostini, one with a pumpkin spread and the other with a artichoke spread, a cone of rice with yellow peppers, cukes, mint and, of course, mozz, after that small panino with prosciutto and smoked mozz and last, but not least, mozzarella twists with cherry tomatoes and pesto.

Aside from aperitivo, drinks run 7-8 euros for cocktails and 4.50 and up for glasses of wine. They have a good wine selection that includes a few bottles starting at 15 euros.

www.obika.it
Piazza Campo dei Fiori - corner Via dei Baullari
Tel.: +39 06 68802366
Open everyday from 8 am to 2 am.
Aperitivo starts at 6pm

Giuseppe Verdi

2009-07-01T23:01:00.001+02:00

"You may have the universe if I may have Italy."

Crema di Fiori di Zucca

2009-06-28T18:24:00.004+02:00

or...Zucchini flower cream sauce

6 zucchinis
2-3 ounces ground prosciutto (the more finely ground the better)
8-10 zucchini flowers
1 quart heavy cream
1 tablespoon butter
.375 grams saffron (3 small packets)
1 box pasta
(for vegetarians, leave out the prosciutto and add salt to taste)

1. Finely chop 3 of the zucchinis, puree the other 3.

2. In medium size pot on medium heat melt butter and let brown a little bit.

3. Add zucchini and prosciutto to pot and cook for 10 minutes, stirring regularly.

4. Add cream and flowers to pot, set heat to very low.

5. Cook for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, making sure not to let it boil.

6. After half hour, turn heat up slightly, cream should start to rise a little, but not boil, add saffron, stir in completely and remove from heat.

7. Combine with pasta or your choosing. Great with ravioli di zucca (pumpkin) or just plain spaghetti.

Berlusconi on the Colbert Report

2009-06-25T15:57:00.001+02:00

Don't think I really need to add any commentary to this...

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/230970/june-17-2009/alpha-dog-of-the-week---silvio-berlusconi

"The Families who Made Rome" - Anthony Majanlahti

2009-06-25T15:56:00.003+02:00

Part history book, part guide book, Majanlahti lays out Rome as it looks today through the families that have made it. He focuses largely on Papal nepotism, by which popes would appoint their families to positions of power and channel church funds to them in order to build family edifices. This was justified by the logic that if people saw the impressive works the church (read: papal families) were constructed they would be awed with the power of the church and therefore more likely to follow it's guidelines (read: give more money) and more people would convert (read: more people giving more money). This process went on up until 1692 when a papal bull was passed by Innocent XII that abolished the practice. The grand buildings of Rome today are essentially part of a massive game of upping the Joneses, each Pope wanted to build bigger and better than the last. Today, because of these papal desires, we are left with city crawling with beautiful buildings.

The book follows the seven most influential families (Colonna, della Rovere, Farnese, Borghese, Barberini, Chigi and Pamphilj) and how they shaped Rome. Rather than discuss all the buildings the book does I thought this would be a good place to write about some of the more entertaining stories or impressive feats that certain Roman families have been involved in.

The Colonna

Rather serendipitously, a member of the Colonna family (Colonna means column) brought the supposed Holy Column from Jerusalem to Rome in 1220. Giovanni the Younger was a papal legate before becoming cardinal and traveled considerably including trips to Jerusalem and Constantinople. The Holy Column is purported to be what Christ was chained to when he was flagellated. This conflicts with another story I have heard, that the column was brought to Rome almost a thousand years before my Constantine's mother, either way it is is still in Rome housed in the Santa Prassede (see my churches section for more details about that).

Aside from fighting with other families more civilly by trying out build one an other, occasionally things were taken a step farther. In 1297 Sciarra Colonna stole some treasure that was bound for the Vatican, to Pope Boniface VIII of the Caetani family. He stole the treasure in an act against the Pope whose election's legitimacy was questioned. He eventually returned the treasure, but would not deem the election legitimate. Boniface declared a crusade against the family. Yes you read that correctly, a crusade against a family. The papal army destroyed the family villas in Tivoli and Palestrina and the family was forced to flee and reconvene in France where they eventually got things together and with the French army marched back into Italy, imprisoning the Pope himself and essentially ending the days of papal control over temporal affairs in Europe. In turn, this lead to the start of the Great Schism and the separate papal court in Avignon, France.

The Della Rovere

Pope Julius II, known as il papa terribile was known for his bull headed nature that led to many great constructions around Rome. He was bold enough to order the destruction of the Old St. Peter's (then 1,200 years old) in order to make room for his new church. In the center of town he designed the Via Giulia, designed as a way to lead pilgrims directly to the Vatican. To build such a straight street required the acquisition of some properties, which obviously made some people unhappy. The Incoronati family owned much of the property along the streets path and they sold (or were possibly strong-armed into selling) some of their buildings to the Vatican. Once the street was finished it became one of the prime addresses to live at in Renaissance Rome (and today), but the Incoronati had different ideas. The buildings they still owned they converted into small stores and apartments, as opposed to the grand plans of Julius II. And to top it off the rented their apartments to prostitutes, so Via Giulia took on two faces, a Combination of Park Avenue and Amsterdam's Red Light district.

The Farnese

Paul III is largely responsible for the current appearance of Castel Sant'Angelo. In 1527 Rome was sacked by an army consisted of primarily Germans and the Pope at the time, Clement VII was forced to flee to the castle to save his life. When Paul became pope a few years later he beefed up the defenses of the castle and it has been used in defense of the city many times. In 1870 when French troops were sweeping through the city the castle was a last line of defense and faced heavy cannon fire from French troops after the came down the Gianicolo on the other side of town. Evidence of this can still be seen today in the base of the 3rd statue on the right hand side as you walk toward the castle from the center of town. There is a large dent from a cannon ball that knocked the statue above into the river below.

The Borghese

The Galleria Borghese is perhaps one of the most exquisite small collections on the world. However some of its pieces were acquired rather sordidly. Cardinal Scipione Borghese was the primary art collector who started the gallery. He saw Domenichino's Diana of the Hunt, which had been commissioned by the previous pope (no longer in power) and decided he wanted it as part of his collection. He asked Domenichino to reconsider the commission, when he refused, Scipione had him thrown in prison, where, after three days, Domenichino was more than happy to change the commission. If this were not bad enough he went as far as to commission the theft of Raphael's Entombment of Christ from a church in Perugia. The painting had been in the same spot for a century and was one of the gems of the city. Naturally, upon its theft and the realization of who stole it, the city went into an uproar. Only with massive tax concessions and a copy of the original work to go in its place did the city calm down.

The Barberini

The Barberini family descended from the Tafani family of Val D'Elsa in Tuscany. Tafani means 'horsefly' and thus the original family symbol was the horsefly. However, wisely, when the Tafani name faded out so did the symbol and it was replaced with the bee. It is said that at the height of the family's power there were over 10,000 sculpted bees in Rome. The bee was chosen as it was meant to tie the family to antiquity through poetry, appearing in both Horace and Virgil, where the bee was traditionally immortal and symbol of the soul and resurrection.
Horace, Odes IV.ii:
...but I, very much in the manner of a Matine bee
laboriously harvesting thyme
from numerous groves and the banks of the many-
streamed Tiber, inconspicuously accrete
my intricate verses
Virgil, Georgics IV.226-7
There is no room for death: alive they fly
To join the stars and mount aloft to heaven.

The Pamphilj

The Pamphilj (not sure why they spell it with a 'j') were often so desperate to connect their family with the past that they searched for similar names that they could associate with. The first records of a Pamphilj anywhere occur in Gubbio in 1150 when a Pamphilio appears in the city records. However, they claim to be descendants of a certain Amanzio Pamphilj who was a follower of Charlemagne in the 9th century. To take it one step farther, Camillo Pamphilj in the 1650's constructed a false ancient tomb in the family properties outside the city (now Villa Doria Pamphilj) which was supposed to contain the remains of the 'gens Pamphylia'. This was all in an attempt to link his name with Numa Pompilius, the first king of Ancient Rome. However, none of it holds water.

The Chigi

Pope Alexander VII, who commissioned Bernini on many occasions, attempted to leave his mark on Rome in as many ways as possible. The Chigi family crest, six mountains with a star above, representing the six hills where they discovered the first alum deposit in Italy, a chemical key to the fulling of wool, which was previously only found in the East and therefore very expense, can be seen all over the city. One of his most ambitious, and shocking, propositions was to build a cupola on top of the Pantheon with a glazed roof that would still have allowed light to enter the church, which was wanted to convert to a sort of family shrine. Even Bernini, who on many occasions torn down parts of Ancient Rome, refused to design the cupola. Only the Pope's death ended this ambition, which he was, thankfully, never able to carry out.

A Full Day

2009-06-25T12:40:00.002+02:00

Pierluigi is closed on Mondays so much of Tuesday morning is spent preparing things in advance for the week, mainly sauces for the week and chopping a fair amount of veggies that will last for the next few days. In that equation, I have become more or less the designated tomato guy. This week I spend about an hour washing, sorting and cutting two large bins of cherry tomatoes. It is pretty mindless work, but gives me the opportunity to observe much of what's going on in the rest of the kitchen. I am also regularly called away for a minute or two to taste something, see how a certain step of a recipe is done etc.

As I was chopping away Antonio was preparing a fresh batch of crema di fiori di zucca (zucchini flower cream sauce). The process is longer than it is labor intensive so he interrupted my cutting every 15 minutes or so to explain the next step. It starts with finely ground prosciutto and zucchini in a large pan with a good amount of butter. Before the ground mash goes into the pot the butter melts and begins to brown just a little bit, for that extra hint of flavor. After that cooks for a few minutes you toss in the cream and zucchini flowers. This mixture cooks incredibly slowly to the point were the cream just begins to rise, not boil, just more upward a little. At that moment you add the key ingredient, saffron. Antonio said technically you put in .375 g for every liter of cream, but you can go more or less. As he has told me many times before you cook with the eye, you bake with a the measuring cup. I'm hoping to give this recipe a try over the weekend and will post details after.

After that it was time for lunch, a simple penne with tomatoes and basil, potatoes with red onion and pancetta and what they call wurstel, but really just seem like foot long hot dogs. After lunch we returned to the kitchen and made final preparations before customers began to arrive. I helped Giuseppe and Giovanni peel a mountain of shrimp, yet another simple task they seemed to do twice as fast as I did. Giuseppe peeled every single shrimp in exactly the same manner in only three simple motions. First he pulled the head off, then grabbed the legs and removed most of the shell almost as if he was unwrapping it, and then pulled the tail off. I tried to follow suit and managed to rip the first few in half as I tried to unwrap the upper shell, once I got the hang of that I wasn't peeling enough off so when I went to pull the tail off the flesh came along with it. By the last few I had more or less got in down, but they piles sitting in front of the two chefs dwarfed the one in front of me.

This week, for the first time in awhile, I had nothing to do until the later afternoon and so could stay in the kitchen until the lunch shift ended. I also am now deemed competent enough to be helpful once the meal starts, which before, reasonably so, wasn't the case.

While I rarely produce any dish entirely on my own, Antonio has me do bits and pieces here and there. Getting the oil, garlic and chili pepper going for an amatriciana, a scoop of crema di scampi for risotto, 8 mussels and a healthy pinch of parsley for a simple mussel and tomato sauce for one, pureeing white beans for clams with beans and tomatoes, serving two portions of penne with butter and parm etc. For about half an hour I was occupied with the leftover pieces of a tuna which had been scraped off the spine. They were small pieces for pasta dishes but before cooking them all the sinew needed to be removed, a bit of a slow process even with a very sharp fillet knife.

I generally work on the large island in the middle of the kitchen which has two sides divided by a row of containers in the middle that hold all the prepared sauces, pre-chopped veggies etc. While I was cutting the tuna a little piece of plastic landed on the side of the cutting board. I thought little of it, that it slipped out of someone's hand as they opened a jar perhaps. However, it was shortly followed by a large caper. I looked around and saw nothing suspicious until I lowered my head to look under the shelf that sits above the center of the island and saw Giovanni on the other side of the island straining a freshly opened jar of capers. I restrained myself from doing anything at that moment, but his time will come.

Penne with shrimp and melon

2009-06-24T14:04:00.004+02:00

This is a surprising variation of a salad and posted a few weeks ago.

1 small-medium cantaloupe - cut into small chunks
2 cups cherry tomatoes - halved
2 dozen medium size shrimp (frozen is fine)
3/4 cup dijon mustard
3/4 cup olive oil
2 cloves garlic - finely chopped
1 box pennette - short penne pasta

1. In medium bowl combine the mustard and olive oil, adding the oil slowly while whisking constantly so it doesn't clump up. When the mixture becomes nice and runny stop adding olive oil (I'm not exactly sure on the proportions but 1:1 seems about right). Add the chopped garlic after you've finished combining the mustard and oil.

2. Boil shrimp - only takes 1-2 minutes, once they start to float they're ready.

3. Run shrimp under some cold water and peel.

4. Boil water for pasta. Once water is ready add pasta and at the same time combine all other ingredients in large pan on medium-low heat.

5. When pasta is done add to pan and stir until everything is thoroughly mixed. Serve immediately.

Serves 4

This makes for great left overs and tastes great cold as well.

Sant'Agostino

2009-06-22T00:57:00.004+02:00

A few blocks north of Piazza Navona sits one of Rome's earliest Renaissance churches. The simply elegant facade was designed by Giacomo di Pietrasanta and was constructed with travertine taken from the Colosseum. The volutes on the sides of the clerestory bring to mind Alberti's Santa Maria Novella in Florence, completed just a decade earlier. If Pietrasanta did not make up up to Florence he might have just walked a little north and seen the new facade of Santa Maria del Popolo which was completed in 1477, disegned by Andrea Bregno, who we know was heavily influenced by Alberti.

I went into the church on a Sunday evening while there was a mass going on so I did not get see all of it and will only comment on the parts I did get a good look at, albeit the more interesting ones.

If you enter the church from one of the two smaller side entrances (ideally the right) the first thing you will notice is the bright blue ceiling of the sides aisles, dotted with gold stars. With gaze fixed upwards as you wonder into the nave, the elaborately decorated vaults will keep your eyes to the sky. Let your eye come back to earth along the third column on the left side of the nave and you will find a pleasant surprise.

I was told about this fresco by the owner of a small English bookstore in Trastevere (The Almost Corner Bookstore) who I have come to know through my purchases of various art and history books. A few months ago I bought biographies of Leonardo and Michelangelo there which have been very interesting reads. I stopped back in looking for a biography of Raphael, which he did not have, and said he has never actually seen. However he asked if I had ever seen Raphael's fresco of the Prophet Isiah in Sant'Agostino. I confessed I had not. He said it is particularly interesting because it blatantly shows the influence that Michelangelo and his hulkingly muscular figures of the Sistine ceiling had on Raphael, who was working in the room next door, painting a masterpiece of his own. If you did not know that it were a work of Raphael, it could easily be mistaken as a Michelangelo. Although, in my opinion, Raphael's ability to use slightly varying shades of blue shines as his singular touch.

The light's a little tough, but you can still get the idea.

Another gem in the church is Caravaggio's Madonna di Loreto (Madonna of the Pilgrims). The myth behind this story goes that Caravaggio fled to the church seeking asylum for the murder of the father of a girl that he had seduced. In those times a criminal, once he stepped into a church, could not be followed inside by the police. Apparently Caravaggio stayed so long in the church that he had time to paint this piece. (On a side note, the opening act of Tosca is supposedly set in the church of Sant Andrea della Valle with a criminal who had fled to the church seeking asylum, I haven't seen the opera yet, but hopefully will later this summer).

I know little about this piece in particular but Caravaggio's strength's are evident in this lesser known work. Some say he was the master of white, because he used so little of it but when he did it had a drastic effect. Even in this blurred photo you can see the light, creamy skin of the Virgin and Child contrasted with the dark background and the dirty pilgrims at their feet. Another characteristic of Caravaggio was his incredible realism. Here you can see the dirt on the bottoms of the pilgrims feet, in other works of his, namely in Santa Maria del Popolo you can even see dirt under fingernails.

Also of note in the church is the main altar executed by Bernini, it is currently under restoration and covered in scaffolding, not to mention the mass I would have seriously interrupted if I tried to get a better look.

As I walked out of the church I heard music coming from the building next door. I have developed an penchant for poking my head through open doors, nudging doors that are slightly open, or even just checking to see if closed doors are looked, to see what might lie on the other side. So far only good has come of this tendency, and in this case it was especially true.

The building just to the right of Sant'Agostino is the Bibloteca Angelica (Angelican Library?) which was opened in 1604 and contains over 2500 Latin, Greek and Middle Eastern original works, and some 20,000 Renaissance works. However, not knowing the library even existed in the first place, the reason I was drawn there was the music I mentioned earlier. It turned out there was a concert going on in the library that day. I arrived just at the very end up it and heard the last two and half pieces, but nonetheless is was amazing. At one point I turned to look at the books behind me and the first book I saw was a commentary on Lucretius' De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things) that looked as if it was at least as old as the library itself.

I took a copy of the program for the concert, but of course have lost it, so I will have to poke my head in the library again to see if there are any more concerts, or, how one goes about getting access to the treasures the library itself contains.

San Pietro in Vincoli

2009-06-22T00:48:00.005+02:00

Walking up Via Cavour from the Forum, a block past Via dei Serpenti, (at the light) a small side street, really just a passageway under a building covered in ivy, could easily be passed over by the untrained eye. The set of stairs, that may have a name but certainly not on any map, leads to the church of San Pietro in Vincoli, St. Peter in Chains.

The church dates back to the 5th century, but most of what we see today was added much later, with renovations in the 14th, 15th, 17th and 18th centuries. The facade is very simple and you might not even think it was a church by the looks of it, simply a loggia with five arches that sits between the neighboring buildings. The interior carries the heaviest influence from the most recent renovations in the 18th century. It's stark whiteness gives a very neoclassical impression. The nave is lined with ancient columns looted from somewhere and along the right side (as you face the altar) two massive wood beams, that bear an inscription dating them to the 15th century, are mounted just below the shallow vault.

The church gets its name from a 5th century legend. The story goes that the chains which held St. Peter in jail in Jerusalem were brought to Rome as a gift for Pope Leo I by the Empress Eudoxia and he examined them along with the chains that held Peter when he was in the Mammertime prison. When the two sets of chains were next to each other they miraculously fused together. In honor of this miracle the Pope commissioned the church and it was consecrated in 493 AD. Today the chains can be seen by descending the stairs in front of the baldacchino. They are kept in a bronze urn given to the church in 1856.

The church's other famous feature is the tomb of Pope Julius II designed by Michelangelo. Originally the tomb was supposed to consist of 40 life size figures and was one of Michelangelo's greatest ambitions, but due to other commissions drawing the great master away and the death of the pope it is considerably smaller than planned. The central figure of the tomb is Moses, depicted in the moment he discovered the Israelites adoring an idol. The two stone tablets of the ten commandments are visible under his right arm. Protruding from his head are what appear to be two horns. They are, in fact, horns, but are meant to represent the light of God in Moses himself. Conveniently, the words for 'beams of light' and 'horns' are very similar in Hebrew so the artist was able to sculpt horns rather than beams of light and convey the same meaning. His look of anger toward his people mimics Julius II, who was known as the il papa terribile.

Another tall tale says that upon completion of the statue Michelangelo yelled, 'Speak!' at the marble because it was so life-like.

Bar Pompi

2009-06-22T00:41:00.003+02:00

According to legend, this was Marcello Mastroianni’s (“La Dolce Vita”) secret place for buying tiramisù for his girlfriends because it was so exquisite. I had heard this from various sources, along with other rave reviews from a wide range of people and decided, finally, to make way to the other side of town and give it a try, adding to the list of places in my grandfather's quest for the best tiramisù. I was certainly not disappointed.

The bar itself is rather large as bars in Rome go and has an impressive selection of pastries in the displays at the front of the bar. However, the best are kept in the wall of refrigerators to the right side. Trays are stacked ten high and twenty across, all containing the same thing, deliciousness. The sign next to the cashier's desk says that the tiramisù are only for take away, but the waitress didn't seem to have a problem bringing one to the table. Apparently at night the bar is a bit of a mad house with people searching for a late night sugar fix, maybe the no table service only applies then.

As for the tiramisù itself, I would rank it very near the top of my list. They have two kinds, traditional and strawberry. The traditional comes smothered in crumbled bits of chocolate, the lady fingers are delicate and the cream is fantastic. Tastewise it is tops, but I preferred the slightly firmer texture of the cream at La Fraschetta a little, if we're getting really picky. The strawberry is also amazing, like a very thick creamy strawberry short cake.

On a side note, tiramisù or, tira mi su literally means 'pick me up'.

Via Albalonga, 7-11; www.barpompi.it. Open 6:30am-1:30am, closed Mondays. Re di Roma metro stop, easy walk from San Giovanni in Laterano.

Caffe della Pace

2009-06-22T00:36:00.002+02:00

Sitting in the same quaint piazza for over a hundred years, Caffe della Pace has been a popular spot in Rome since it's opening. Their website (caffedellapace.it) has some lofty claims as having inspired artists of all types for over a century as a place for them to gather and discuss new ideas. While that may have been true in the past, their current prices don't seem like the types that would attract too many artists to wile away an afternoon debating the merits of the petite church Santa Maria della Pace. More likely today, they'll be complaining about how to get into the church, which houses Raphael's Sybils, but is open for an hour a day sometime in the morning only on weekdays.(Caffe on the left, church on the right in the picture below)

While their prices are a bit steep (2.50 for an espresso, 4 for a cappuccino, 7 for a beer), if you manage to find a table outside, often difficult on a weekend afternoon, it is a great spot to watch the world go by in the late afternoon and early evening. Once the sun sets things get a little more crowded the whole area in general fills up with revelers. If there are no seats outside, sitting inside isn't the end of the world, they have an interesting collection of statues and paintings to keep your eye distracted.

Among their overpriced drinks it is possible to find a good deal. They have a great aperitivo spread which comes entirely free with a drink. Last night I went there for dinner, had two glasses of wine at 5 euros each and ate my fill. Each night is slightly different, but the basics are generally the same. Last night I had zucchini rolls stuffed with some kind of white fish and spicy peppers, roasted potatoes with bell peppers, pan fried eggplant and zucchini and an assortment of bruschette and crostini (small pieces of toast with various spreads). Aperitivo starts around 7 and lasts until the food is gone, which on Friday or Saturday can be about an hour or so, rest of the week takes a little longer.

Via della Pace, 3/7. If you're in Piazza Navona looking at St. Agnes follow the street to right (north) of the church and walk back two blocks, caffe is on your right.

Light and Water

2009-06-20T21:46:00.005+02:00

Italians certainly have a particular type of flair. I originally wanted to say a flair for the spectacular but that is only because the Italian word for show is spettacolo. What Italians think of as entertaining and beautiful is often rather tacky and just involves a lot of smoke and mirrors. Italians are also suckers for fireworks. I'm not going to deny that fireworks are entertaining, but I have seen a few fireworks shows here and just weren't all that big, especially for things put on by the city, and Italians were in awe. Maybe I'm spoiled being an American and having grown up watching fireworks that are just a lot bigger, or, to go along with my general thoughts towards Italians, they are much less mature than their age would let on and are much more easily amused by flashing lights. (That's going a little far, guess I'm having a bitter week towards Italians, happens every now and then)

This whole train of thought came from a show last night that one of my roommates was going to see and I tagged along. It was in Piazza del Popolo and was celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Italian electric company ACEA. This was the third year in a row they have put on the show (not clear the reason for the past two years) and apparently it has grown last year. The description of the show is 'Water and Light', vague right? It started with an extremely over-handed description of Rome as the city of light and water, talking about the sweeping effects they have on the population (Italians have a thing for over exaggerating a whole lot).

When it was almost dark the show began. The first piece was a group of 4 women dancing on stage with another suspended from a wire connected to the top of the Pincio gliding over the audience, pictured below.

Throughout the show there was a thin waterfall on the back of the stage that they used as the screen, which gave everything they projected a Monet-esque impression. Not many of my pictures of it came out, but the one below, the face of Botticelli's Venus, turned out reasonably well.

The show consisted of an odd assortment of songs (all in English, except for 2 Spanish songs) that ranged from Swan Lake to Paul Simon that were all accompanied by various dancers. When they played a piece from Swan Lake there were two sets of ballet dancers off to the sides of the stage that were beautiful, but that wasn't enough for the Italians. They needed a giant balloon swan that, for me, really took away from the grace of the music and the dancers. When they played Paul Simon's Under African Skies there were only two dancers, a small girl wearing a flowing white shirt and pants, mirrored by a wiry black guy wearing pants that matched hers. The first half of the song they danced in front of the water fall/screen and then at a certain point they started dancing under it, dramatically changing the fit of their clothes and their overall appearance. It was the only piece to me that did not seem largely over done, they dancers were great and they were allowed to speak (well dance) for themselves without any other distractions.

Another song they played was the Statler Brothers' Counting Flowers on the Wall which was accompanied by 8 Marylin Monroe look-alikes, skirts blown from below and all.

The final piece was a dozen or so dancers with staffs lit on both ends dancing on the central stage, along with changing lights illuminating the hill behind them. And the grand finale was, of course, fire works.

Rome itself is a theater with stages, small and large, scattered all across the city. Piazza del Popolo is perhaps the largest of those stages and for this reason is often used for large events. The events I have seen to date have merely set up a stage in the piazza and that's it, but this event incorporated the entire setting into the show. The hill above Piazza del Popolo, the Pincio, has been covered with gardens since the Roman Empire, but it was not until the piazza was built by Valadier in the 1820's the the hill was incorporated into the scene (it was originally separated from the piazza by the cloister of the church Santa Maria del Popolo). His neoclassical design makes the hill look almost like a flat wall towering over the piazza, when, in fact, it is very deep and is crisscrossed by a road leading up to the top as well as smaller foot paths. This show, especially at the end, utilized the depth of the hill (as well as its height) to great effect.

Michelangelo on Architecture

2009-06-20T21:42:00.001+02:00

"It is certain that the elements that make up the framework of a building are akin to the limbs of the body. Only a man who can reproduce the human figure and is well-versed in anatomy knows anything about architecture."

Crema di Scampi

2009-06-16T16:20:00.004+02:00

Most of the dishes I have tried have been relatively easy and Lorenzo has given me a bit of hard time for not trying something more interesting, so with some free time on Saturday afternoon I took on a risotto con crema di scampi. I confess it wasn't exactly true risotto because I cooked the rice separately and added the sauce and rice together, but I was cooking for 7 and don't have a pan big enough to make that much risotto the old fashioned way. Here's more or less how it went.

8 good size scampi, heads still on if possible (regular shrimp would probably do the trick, probably a half pound or so)
two cans peeled, whole tomatoes
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
olive oil
salt - 2 big pinches
heavy cream (16 oz maybe)
1/2 cup of cognac
1 lb rice

1. In large pan heat olive oil with a good amount of fine grain salt. Cook scampi in pan, heads and all, when they're almost done add half of cognac to pan, light and let burn off (just angling the pan toward the flame should do the trick if you let the liquor heat for a minute). This burns off an impurities in the scampi as well as adding some extra flavor.

2. Remove scampi and cool, drain remants of pan through fine strainer and save for later.

3. Peel the scampi, saving the shells. Chop the meat into pieces as you like, I did some very small and others a bit bigger. (Leave some whole to put on top of each plate for decoration). In a small pot dump the shells and fill with water, and set boiling.

4. In food processor (or with hand blender) puree tomatoes.

5. Heat oil in bottom of medium size pot, toss in garlic and cook a minute or two, add tomatoes, scampi and drippings from pan. Cook for 10-15 minutes, adding broth as necessary to keep nice and liquid.

6. Add cream to the pot, start with half, give it a good stir keeping an eye on the color. This depends a little on personal preference, but generally you've put in enough cream when the sauce is light pink. Add rest of cognac to the pot and cook for a few more minutes on medium heat.

8. Cook rice following directions on box, and then combine with sauce in large pan. Cook for a few minutes adding broth as needed until it reaches the right consistency.

9. For nice presentation, put another scampi on top of each plate with a nice sized sprig of parsley.

Serves 6-8

English or Italian?

2009-06-16T16:04:00.003+02:00

I have found some of the most difficult words for me to pick up in conversation with Italians are the occasional English words that have become a part of the modern Italian vocabulary, but have some very odd pronunciations, incorrect uses, or just plain don't exist in English, but are close.

One of the first I learned was footing, which means running or jogging as in faccio footing, literally "I do jogging", more "I'm going for a run".

Next comes feeling (with a heavy accent on the first syllable) as in, c'e un po di feeling tra loro - literally, "there is a little bit of feeling between them" which doesn't make any sense really, but actually means "they like each other".

Instead of saying fine settimana, plenty of Italians just say weekend.

One that makes me laugh all the time is "stop" which they use when we would say "that's it", or "that's all". If one of my students is running through a list of things he might say "I had dinner, watched a film, read a book and, and, and stop."

Another that is generally used the same as in English is "comfort" which there is a word for in Italian, comodita, but they often use the English anyway.

Waiting for the first pitch

2009-06-16T15:27:00.003+02:00

As a former baseball player, I see ways in which just about everything in life can be related to the game of baseball, working in the kitchen is no different.

As some general ground rules, think of the kitchen as the batter and the customers as the pitcher. The chefs know the pitchers repertoire (the menu) but they don't know what is coming until it is on its way to the plate. They also don't know what new things a pitcher has that can throw them off, think Mariano Rivera adding a two-seam fastball to his devastating cutter, like someone who wants the carbonara but is allergic to cheese. Worse, outside elements can have a huge effect. Say you're facing a knuckleballer on a windy day, it's like the daily deliver of clams and mussels not coming in, you're just fishing.

The kitchen gets busy at 10, three hours before business opens for lunch, just like we had to be at the field in college. The chefs get their stations organized, making sure all the pilots lights are working, setting potatoes to boil for an hour, getting the vegetable broth going, sorting through basil leaves, chopping tomatoes and eggplants etc. I view this as stretching and tossing the ball around to loosen up the arm, relatively mindless repetitive acts, but essential nonetheless. What would the kitchen be without tomatoes? What good is a shortstop with a stiff shoulder.

After stretching and tossing comes batting practice. This is where the chefs get their muscles going a little more, but still know what is coming and are in a relatively controlled environment. Letting the tomatoes sauce cook for a few hours, making this week's crema di scampi, putting the sugary crust on top of the creme caramel, baking the daily bread. Every now and then there's something a little different, today we put together a white ragu with anchovies, like the pitching coach having to throw BP because the head coach is running late coming from his daughter's volleyball game, a slight change but easily handled.

After BP the infield is dragged and everyone relaxes for a minute, downing another gatorade, because it's a hot day in May in the Carolinas, at 11:30 we pause for lunch, enjoying a glass of wine, because this is Italy.

Everyone returns to the kitchen and the wait is on, teams to their respective dugouts while the home team pitcher gets it going in the bull pen. Restless middle-infielders play a game of pepper in short right field, Antonio and I chop up the remaining eggplant, the center fielder takes some extra hacks in the cage trying to keep that elbow up, Giovanni prepares eggplant rolls, looking ahead to the group of 25 that is coming this evening.

Finally the starting pitcher jogs out from the pen, the first customer of the day takes a seat. A group of six orders amatriciana al mare, a restaurant staple, but there the fish guy is still late, a pitcher seen many times before with a big loopy curve ball has developed a harder one with a later break, adjustments need to make on both sides. The next day starter up in the booth with the radar gun runs down to the dugout and passes the info along to the coach, Antonio yells at the waiter for forgetting the shellfish delivery hasn't come in yet and then digs around the fridge and finds the last half bag of clams still good from the day before.

And from there both teams settle into a rhythm. The chefs have gotten it across to the waiters that there's no swordfish so they stop telling people we have that instead of tuna, the second time through the order the players have seen that harder curve and make an adjustment to it.

There remains one gaping difference between the hitter and the chef, if a hitter is successful just 1 out of 3 times he is an all-star, a restaurant that leaves 1 out of 3 customers satisfied doesn't stay open very long. A chef needs to hit about .950 with a slugging percentage in the ball park of 3.600, those are beyond Ruthian numbers.

Sigmund Freud on analysis of art

2009-06-16T15:20:00.001+02:00

"This has brought me to recognize the apparently paradoxical fact that precisely some of the grandest and most overwhelming creations of art are still unsolved riddles to our understanding. We admire them, we feel overawed by them, but we are unable to say what the represent to us."

Scholars Lounge

2009-06-15T15:36:00.003+02:00

I generally try to avoid doing stereotypically American things, but every now and then they are necessary, so last night I went to watch the rubber match of the subway series. There are a handful of Irish pubs in Rome, the closest things to true sports bars, and some of them can get American sports. However, Scholars is the only place I have found that has an mlb.tv package and can therefore get any baseball game out there even if it's not on national tv. Watching an internet feed can be frustrating at times as it does freeze every now and then to let the video buffer, but it's better than nothing. I enjoyed watching the Yankees put a beating on the Mets last night, delivering Johan Santana the worst loss of his career and gaining a game on the Red Sox for first place in the AL East.

Aside from getting baseball games, Scholars is very nice little bar. There are hardly ever many Italians in there, and during the school year it can be so crowded with study abroad students it is actually just unpleasant, but when school isn't in session there is a good regular crowd of Brits and Americans who live in Rome or come here with some frequency. They have a good beer selection and discounts for American students, always helpful. They bring in live music once a week or so, I've managed to hear the same Bon Jovi cover band twice. They have decent food as well, they make big salads, which are hard to find in Rome, good long sandwiches on toasted baguettes as well as a creamy Irish stew. They also organize a trivia night on Mondays in the spring and fall, which I have never made it to, but have heard good things about.

Conveniently located just around the corner from Piazza Venezia (Via Plebescito 101) their website is http://scholarsloungerome.com/

Italian Children

2009-06-15T12:09:00.003+02:00

Italian children must be the most babied group of people in the entire world. I know that sounds like a rather sweeping statement, but I have some examples that I think will back up my point. Ever now and then I, and most Americans I know living here, get a little fed up with Italians and I think it is largely because we, Americans, just operate differently than Italians do and for me it is largely in the treatment that children receive. So much so that I don't know how Italians ever manage to become independent.

In just the past two days my views have been reinforced twice over. The first was taking the metro on Saturday afternoon. General etiquette anywhere in the world while riding public transportation is that younger people should give up their seats for elders and men give up their seats for women. The latter is true in Italy, but not the former. In the pecking order of who should be allowed to sit on a bus or train children between the age of 5-10 top the list. This to me is unbelievable. I have seen grandmothers give their seats to their grandchildren. On a few occasions I have given up my seat to an elder women, just to see her give it to a little kid standing behind her that I didn't see. Really?

Example number two came from my roommate's parents who stopped in Rome yesterday afternoon on their way to Florence. Keep in mind my roommate is 29. His parents brought so much food and other things for the kitchen we had to actually through out a few things of leftovers to make room in the fridge. Don't get me wrong, his mother is a great cook and I will certainly eat a good amount of the food she brought, but it just seems like a little bit of overkill to bring an entire fridge (and freezer) worth of food to your son who is 29. To top it all off his mother, who was in Rome for about 2 hours, spent half of that time ironing his shirts...

Infiorata di Genzano

2009-06-15T11:34:00.006+02:00

I was flipping through a guide book a few weeks ago and read that in the sleepy little town of Genzano there is a flower festival every year in early June. I did a little research and found out the festival, the Infiorata, was this past weekend, June 13th-15th. Genzano is one of the small towns in the Castelli Romani that sit in the Alban hills to the south east of Rome and have been a favorite get away for Romans for two thousand years. Roman ruins do not compare to Hadrian's Villa in Tivoli, but they are still around. More impressive are the Medieval and Renaissance monuments, including the summer papal residence in Castel Gandolfo. Genzano is not known for anything in particular beyond this festival, the town itself is rather simple, but quite peaceful and certainly a few degrees cooler than Rome.

To reach Genzano you have take the metro to the end of line A and then catch a COTRAL (Lazio bus system) bus to Genzano. Times for the buses are not readily available (nor are they accurate) but they leave about every hour or so. I went with to of my roommates who had never been to Genzano and liked the idea of escaping the city for an afternoon. We got off the bus around 11:30 and started following the slow, but steady, stream of people walking toward the center of town. The first signs of anything special going on were the typical white tents set up for a fair, small booths with local products; wines, cheeses, oils, meats etc. There were a few interesting places, but for the most part they were selling small touristy trinkets, cheap clothes and cheap housewares.

When we reached the central piazza we looked up to the left and saw the main street lined with flowers...

The images ranged from abstract designs, to portraits, to religious images to architectural settings. They were all executed with flower petals and various other plant materials. The colors were dazzling. The image below is of a famous Italian singer who died a few years ago, can't remember his name though.

When we reached the top of the street we wondered around the back of the church at the top and came upon this view of the volcanic lake (Lago di Nemi).

From there we tried to go back around the church on the other side and came across a street, alley really, that was so small we thought we had reached a dead end. I was skeptical and went to take a look. The street managed to get even smaller as I passed a door open on a family enjoying lunch, then another door encased with the smell of jasmine. I rounded a corner and the street opened up just enough for a women to have set up a table to sell wine and sandwiches. She had in front of her a large pig from which she was slicing pieces of porchetta, roast pig with a variety of seasonings. We had been discussing options for lunch but when we smelled the porchetta and she offered us a taste of homemade wine, we were sold. We each had a sandwich, so full of meat we had to keep them wrapped in a napkin to prevent them from falling apart, and a glass of red wine. While we stood there and ate our sandwiches we chatted with the woman a bit and she made fun of my Italian accent, imitating the guttural American pronunciation. This is something that has not really happened to me before, and at first I was slightly offended but then it occurred to me that it meant I was speaking pretty well if I had accent to make fun of.

Here's the pig...

After lunch we took a free shuttle down to the lake where there is a museum of Roman ships. In the 1930's, under Mussolini, fragments of a Roman ship were discovered along the shore of the lake. He had the entire lake drained, through a tunnel the Roman had built, and two large ships were discovered sitting on the bottom of the lake. The both came from the time of Caligula, (verified by his official seal on the piping found on one of the ships) and the hulls were well preserved partially in the mud at the bottom of the lake. They were excavated and moved to a museum built specifically to house them on the northern shore of the lake. The architect was Vittorio Ballio Morpurgo, who designed the original pavilion for the Ara Pacis. The structure itself looks likes like the inside of a boat hull turned upside-down, with massive ribs and spanning two wide open rooms that housed the boats, which were built solely as pleasure palaces for the Emperor to cruise around the lake on. Sadly, during World War II the boats were burned as Nazi forces were being driven south of Rome, the Allies blamed the Germans and the Germans blamed the Allies. Among the pieces that remain are two sets of window shutters complete with hinges, some metal roof tiles, four marble columns, lead pipes that heated the baths, a large anchor and other small metal pieces such as door handles.

Below is one of the anchors, along with my roommate Domenico to give a little sense of the size.

La Fraschetta di Mastro Giorgio

2009-06-14T17:44:00.003+02:00

This very originally named restaurant (it takes its name from the street it's on) sits in a hidden corner of Testaccio well away from the run of the mill tourist places in Rome. I found out about it from Lorenzo at Pierluigi one day when I asked him where he goes if he eats out in Rome and this was one of two places he mentioned. It is next to da Felice, which was recently written up in the Times as a place to truly Roman cuisine. I have never been to da Felice so much of this is only what I have heard, but Fraschetta is owned by the same family that runs da Felice so the food is pratically the same and prices are a bit lower as it is not as well known. Their menu is not as strictly Roman as it could be, no cacio e pepe for example, but they still have some great things.

I went with a friend last week and we both left very satisfied. As we were ordering, our waiter, after every suggestion we made, said something along the lines of "Well that is good, but...you should probably order this." Needless to say we followed his advice and were very well served in doing so. We started with a plentiful assortment of meats and cheeses (7 euros) that came from the deli-esque counter we walked by on our way in that set my mouth watering before we even sat down. After that my friend had a spaghetti with chicory and pecorino cheese, a suprising combination that went really well together, and I had the house pasta, an amatriciana mixed with n'duja (spicy Calabrian meat sauce) that left me drinking the house Chianti rather quickly to put out the fire in my mouth, something I greatly enjoyed as I often miss the lack of spice in Italian food.

After our pasta we were pretty full, but I have decided to pick up my grandfather's quest to find the best tiramisu in Italy, so I had to order dessert. And I think I may have succeeded to that end (not that I'll stop looking), but their tiramisu was unreal. It was considerably thicker than most I have had, almost a firm cream that held its shape over the biscotti in the bottom of the bowl, topped with a great chocolate powder. As we were splitting the traditional tiramisu our waiter came by and mentioned that they also make a strawberry one, which we of course tried, it was also excellent, but the chocolate one wins.

After dessert we each had a little after dinner drink, limoncello for Erin and an Amaro del Capo for me. All told we had a large antipasto, two plates of pasta, two desserts, bread, water, a liter of wine, two after dinner drinks and the bill only came to 62 euros, not something you find often in Rome. A definite keeper.

We went on a Saturday night and made a reservation, which was a good idea as they were packed when we got there at 9 and would have had to join the line outside otherwise.
Via Mastro Giorgio, 19 (Via A. Volta, 36), tel. 06 5741369. www.lafraschettadimastrogiorgio.com.

Penne with tomato sauce and hint of basil

2009-06-10T12:19:00.003+02:00

1 can peeled, whole tomatoes
1/2 small white onion, finely chopped
olive oil
1 tablespoon of pesto
1 box penne pasta

1. Heat oil, add onion and cook on medium heat until tender, 5 minutes.

2. Add tomatoes, simmer 40 minutes or so (until tomatoes have more or less fallen apart) on medium heat adding water (or ideally vegetable broth) as needed to maintain consistency.

3. Cook pasta and add to pan along with pesto. Leave low heat on and stir until thoroughly mixed. Serve immediately.

Serves 4

Does anyone speak English here?

2009-06-10T11:44:00.003+02:00

Yesterday morning I finally made it back to the kitchen at Pierluigi after nearly a month's absence. It was a particularly slow day, I helped Antonio make tomato sauce, chopped a few hundred cherry tomatoes and sorted the good and bad basil leaves out of a large pile. Again, I had a very simple task to do, chop tomatoes, but Antonio managed to show me how to do it better, arrange the cutting board on top of the bin that the halved tomatoes were going into and set up the bowl of whole tomatoes just to the side to reduce any un-needed extra movement. Aside from that a few interesting things did happen while I was there.

While I was chopping tomatoes one of the guys who delivers fish came in and said he had a pescone (a really big fish; pesce - fish, -one - a suffix meaning something large), sitting on ice. What he carried into the kitchen was only the tail, from the lower dorsal fin to the tip of the tail. It weighed 25 kilos, so it was probably a 300-350 pound fish. What transpired from there was interesting. The seller wanted the restaurant to by the whole thing, making his life easier not having to find another buyer, but 25 kgs of tuna would just go to waste, they only needed 10. Either the guy selling was not a very good negotiator or the guy who handles the fish at Pierluigi is just that good, but the restuarant ended up buying just the 10kgs they wanted and they guy carried the rest away.

For lunch we had a nice pasta, penne with tomato sauce al profumo di basilico (with hint of basil). Antonio put that together, the sauce was very simple, some white onions finely chopped, large canned, peeled whole tomatoes, oil olive and light salt. That simmered for about 45 minutes until the tomatoes had pretty much fallen apart, then he added a little bit of a pesto-like sauce he blended with a hand blender. To go with that Giovanni made some breaded sardines and a nice salad.

While we were eating lunch the phone rang and Lorenzo's grandmother (I think, haven't quite figured out the relationship) picked up the phone and then rather confusedly turned to the tables where we were all sitting and asked if anyone spoke English. I was the only one as Lorenzo wasn't there and the two waiters who speak English hadn't arrived yet, so I took the reservation. A little thing, but it entertained me nonetheless, Isabelle for 2 people at 8:00 last night.

When I walked back into the kitchen a spiny lobster that was crawling across the floor having escaped the tray it was sitting and fallen off the counter. Giovanni was the only other one in the kitchen, he tends to take a quick lunch and get back to work, and had his hands full filling ricotta rolls and pointed the lobster out to me as I almost stepped on it on my way into the kitchen, guess the their fish is pretty fresh.

Andre Aciman on Roman Streets

2009-06-10T00:43:00.000+02:00

"This protean city is all about drifting and straying, and the shortest distance between two points is never a straight line but a figure eight."

Spaghetti al Colomba

2009-06-08T14:38:00.004+02:00

I had this dish last weekend in Ferrara and attempted to recreate it last night, an experiment that went reasonable well. The name comes from the restaurant in Ferrara, but spaghetti with sage and anchovies might be easier to remember.

1 box of spaghetti, preferably egg (I made it last night with penne and that worked well too)
12 fresh sage leaves
6 anchovies
2 cups cherry tomatoes
1 cup tomato puree
1 large tablespoon butter
1 garlic clove
200 g fresh ricotta

1. Finely chop half the sage leaves, smash garlic clove and half the tomatoes.

2. Melt butter and simmer garlic and sage leaves on medium heat for 5 minutes, making sure the garlic doesn't brown, just soften.

3. Add tomatoes, tomato puree and anchovies to the pan, simmer on medium-high heat for 15-20 minutes stirring regularly, adding water as needed to keep sauce liquidy.

4. Cook pasta, drain, but don't shake dry.

5. Turn heat to low, pour pasta into pan and dump ricotta on top, stir until thoroughly mixed. Serve immediately.

Serves 4

Eggplant rolls alla Melissa

2009-06-08T14:32:00.003+02:00

Melissa was in the Aeolian Islands a few weeks ago with her brother and ate this at the hotel where she was staying. She liked it so much that she emailed the hotel to get the recipe.

EGGPLANT PREP

slice eggplants and sprinkle with salt. let sit to sweat. (eggplants hold a lot of water and the salt brings it out/dehydrates it)

heat vegetable oil to frying heat

fry eggplants until a nice golden brown

place on paper towel to soak up excess oil

STUFFING

saute garlic in olive oil until golden brown

add one bottle (or two cans) of tomato sauce (JUST tomato sauce/puree with NO flavoring)

add salt, pepper, and fresh basil and let simmer for about ten minutes

(remove some and put aside for garnish)

add 100g of breadcrumbs (unflavored) to make soft stuffing. (n.b. a little goes a far way, so be sure to not add too much, otherwise your stuffing will be quite dense and hard, which you don't want)

FINAL PREP

put a nice dollop of stuffing into the eggplant and roll.

garnish with finely grated parm, a LITTLE red sauce, which you put aside, and fresh basil

Federico Fellini on his first impressions of Rome

2009-06-04T23:00:00.001+02:00

One of the things I found most striking was the monumental rudeness that I encountered everywhere. A gigantic rudeness and a gigantic vulgarity. This vulgarity is part of the character of Rome, that magnificent vulgarity to which the Latin authors have left testimony - Plautus, Martial, Juvenal. It is the vulgarity of Petronius' Satyricon. It is a kind of liberation, a victory over the fear of bad taste, over propriety. For anyone who observes the city with the aim of expressing it creatively, the vulgarity is an entertainment, an aspect of fascination that Rome inspires. But Rome seemed to me immediately a familiar, welcoming and friendly city - perhaps because my mother was a Roman...

Ferrara, Padua, Mantua

2009-06-03T22:14:00.012+02:00

This past weekend was a long weekend in Italy due to the was a national holiday on Tuesday (June 2nd), Festa della Repubblica, celebrating the foundation of the Italian Republic in 1949. As far as I can tell the only people that actually did anything were the 6,000+ military personnel that marched through the center of Rome on Tuesday afternoon. I sight that not a single person I talked to has been to in years because it takes place after lunch on a holiday, a time that everyone is doing one of three things A) recovering from a meal, B) still eating a meal, or most likely C) somewhere out of the city, usually the beach but in some cases the mountains.

If you read that last paragraph carefully you would have noticed the holiday was only on Tuesday, but it was a long weekend. This is because almost this entire country took a 'bridge' day on Monday and made a true long weekend out of it. At least three quarters of the people I spoke to did the same. Following suit (some Italian habits are rubbing off on me a little) I did the same and had four days to run off on another adventure. Most of my ramblings around Italy have been to the South, so this time I decided to head North. My decision was also swayed when I read that there is a Palio (horse race, more details to follow) in Ferrara the last Sunday in May every year.

I told a friend of mine, Crystal, about my plans to head out of town for the weekend and about the Palio and she happily agreed to join, as she had not been to Ferrara and is leaving Italy soon and trying to cram in some last minute traveling. I was working until 8 on Friday night so unfortunately we could not leave until the next morning. We got to the train station and the Eurostar fast trains were are booked (note to self, book trains in advance on holidays) so we got stuck on the considerably slower inter-city train. We arrived in Ferrara around 3:30 Saturday afternoon instead of 1:00 as originally planned. Not the best start, but we were both happy to be away from work with nothing to worry about for four days so we took it in stride.

We walked in from the train station to our hotel which was conveniently located one street away from the Este family castle that dominates the center of the town. Our hotel was called the Hotel De Prati and for 105 euros on the night of the Palio was very nice and the man working at the front desk on Saturday afternoon was exceptionally friendly and helpful. We dropped our bags at the hotel and headed out immediately to stretch our legs after five hours on the train. We grabbed a map from the front desk and were off.

Our first stop was the castle. The castle was built in response to a riot against the royal family that ended when a high official in the royal court was torn to pieces by a mob that they could not keep out of the original palace. Originally part of the city walls, the castle is based around four towers that are joined with curtain walls. Over time the city expanded and the castle was used less for defensive purposes and apartments were built for the Este family. The exterior has remained more or less unchanged since its completion in 1544 while the interior has undergone many alternations as tastes and styles changed across the centuries.

Three features of the castle struck me the most. The first is the massive moat that still encircles the castle making access possible only across drawbridges that appear to be all original. Second, the kitchen, where the civil and military aspects of the castle vividly overlap. Re-constructed ovens with slits for archers next to them. And finally the prisons. The walls and ceilings are covered with scratchings and ashen writings of those held there. The prisons were used from as early as the 1420's when the Duke's second wife fell in love with her step-son and started an affair with him, they were kept in separate cells for a few weeks and finally beheaded. The most recent residents were followers in Garibaldi's during the battles for the unification of Italy in the 1840's and 50's. Some of their writings are still easily seen, including one for a man named Marco who wrote about his woeful situation as someone who was fighting for freedom and has had all freedoms taken from him.

The castle is impressive, but I was not a fan of the restorations in many of the rooms, there is too much new white plaster and places that have obviously been whitewashed over. This may help with the presentation of what still remains, but to me drains much of the original feeling out of the castle.

After the castle we wondered around town, looking at the map only very occasionally, with no particular destination in mind. At one point we ended up on the outskirts of town walking around the city walls where we first discovered a small tower that had a photography exhibition of a local ornithologist and his pieces of the nearby bird sanctuary. From there we took a turn back toward the center of town and happened across a small bio-farm where they grew organic vegetables and made various things from them, ranging from homemade pastas to incredibly thick honey. We settled for a bag of cherries to accompany us on your walk back to the hotel and to tide us over until dinner.

We got back to the hotel as asked the guy at the desk for a dinner recommendation, something I am always a little hesitant to do as I think all Italians are generally trying to screw over tourists and will more likely send you to their friends' places than a truly good restaurant, although sometimes the two go hand in hand. In this case we lucked out and he ran off a list of four or five places and what they're specialties were. We chose the most authentic sounding one, although it was a bit farther from the hotel than the others. On our way over was walked past the Duomo, San Giorgio di Ferrara, which was illuminated with shimmering candles whose light danced on the soft pink and white marble facade.

We ate dinner at Il Ristorantino di Colomba and had an absolutely amazing meal. We stared by splitting smoked goose breast, which Crystal almost refused to order, but after one bite we both agreed it was up there with the best smoked meat either of us had ever had. It was garnished with shredded red cabbage, shredded lettuce and grapefruit. For a main course we split two pastas. One was the house spaghetti, the recipe which I posted this afternoon, which was delicious and I managed to recreate last night. The other was a cappelletti, a type of stuffed pasta, in a simple but savory ragu sauce. To wash it all down we had a liter of the house red, a Sangiovese del Rubicone, was easily better than its 6 euro price.

Sunday was the day of the Palio (explanation coming soon) but it did not start until 4pm so we decided to rent bikes as a way to see a little more of the city. Ferrara is a city that has more bicycles than cars and everyone, I mean everyone, from 1 to 92. While walking do dinner we saw a girl in her twenties in red stilettos cycling by just slow enough not to mess her hair up, but still with purpose. In the morning there was more than one mother with a baby seat (think car seat but a little smaller) either just behind the handle bars or on the rack over the back tire. Baskets full of daily groceries were everywhere.

We found a bike rental near the Duomo and picked up our bikes for the day, Crystal opted for one a little newer, I decided to go old school and was rather enamored with my little three speed bike that was probably twice as old as I am, but worked like a dream. It was the first bike I have ridden a long time, possibly the only one without training wheels, where you could start to pedal backwards to brake.

We spent the morning and early afternoon cruising around the city with no real destination in mind. Crystal discovered she could finally ride a bike with no hands, we crossed the river Po and saw a gaggle of ducklings, I refused to look at the map, all in all good times.

When we were in the center of town, as opposed to riding along the tops of the walls, which we did quite a bit, we started to see more and more people amassing near the castle wearing all kinds of medieval costumes. It was the initial preparations for the Palio. A Palio is a traditional medieval horse race between the various contrade (districts) of a city that is held once or twice a year. The most famous is in Siena where it takes place in the main square, piazza del Campo, every year on July 2nd. If you've seen the most recent James Bond movie, Quantum of Solace, the opening scene when he is running through a crowded piazza with a horse race going on is the Palio of Siena.

Siena's is the most famous largest Palio out there, but cities, and smaller town all across Italy hold their own. Ferrara's Palio is the oldest in Italy. This year they celebrated their 750th anniversary, meaning this event has been held since before the birth of Dante, before America was even a thought, and a few years after Genghis Khan ravaged Asia.

The event itself started at 4:00 with a massive procession through town starting at the castle and finishing in the Piazza Ariostea. Each of the eight contrada was led by three men bearing the standard of the district. They were in turn followed by people in every sort of medieval dress, all wearing the colors of their contrada: swordsman, archers, ladies in waiting, regal couples, princes, princesses, flag throwers, trumpeters, drummers etc etc.

Standard bearer of the Contrada di Borgo San Giacomo

Once all eight contrade had processed into to piazza the races began. First was the 16 and under boys footrace. They all wore the small costumes they walked in the parade it, but had switched into running shoes, which mildly disappointed me, all or nothing right? They were followed the by the girls 16 and under footrace, again, still in costume with sneakers.

The spectators around each end of the piazza, as opposed to the long sides, where divided up by contrada and when each race finished the contrada that one stormed the track and raised the victorious runner on a pair of shoulders (looked quite uncomfortable actually) and carried him/her on a victory lap.

After the two footraces came the animal races, first a donkey race and then a proper horse race. the donkey race was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. I have little experience dealing with donkey's but can imagine that they are not the most intelligent animals and could be a bit ornery. My speculation were confirmed as they tried to line them all up and get them to the starting rope (no gates, just a taught rope that is dropped). This process took about twenty minutes and finally the judges gave up and just started the race when about 6 of the 8 were ready.

Getting read for the donkey race, rider from Contrada di Borgo San Luca

After the donkey race came the real horse race. Lining up the horses took one false start and almost an hour of jostling to get the order right. Without gates this was a very difficult task. All the riders were also bareback (donkeys were the same). They also refused to start the race until the order was just right, obviously the horse race is taken a little more seriously than the donkey race, rightfully so.

Overall a Palio is certainly a sight to see, I have yet to see the one in Siena and imagine it is incredibly, but I think seeing the one in Ferrara was in a way more authentic. The city was not particularly crowded, not many people come to Ferrara to see the Palio. In fact, most of the Italians I talked to before leaving did not even know it existed. It felt very much like a county fair. People of every age were out to root for their district, the hard core fans wearing their local colors, others with a small towel to wave.

After the Palio we took a train from Ferrara little farther north to Padua where we arrived at our hotel around 9 that night. Padova is the second oldest university town in Italy, a few years behind Bologna, so there is a pretty active night life with lots of small wine bars and decent restaurants. We wandered from the hotel, found a place for a pizza and called it a night.

The thing most people come to see in Padua is the Scrovegni Chapel (or Arena Chapel) with Giotto's amazing frescoes depicted the life of Christ with a focus on the life of the Virgin. Giotto is viewed by many having ushered in the early Renaissance with his fresco work. He portrayed emotion in his figures in a way never seen before. He did this primarily through gestures, which he used as a vehicle of inward emotion. From a practical stand point the chapel is a little inconvenient, they allow groups of 25 people in for 15 minutes at a time an you must reserve a spot in advance. They recommend doing so a day or to before (you can't reserve on the phone the day of), but we arrived at the ticket office around 10am and there were plenty of spots open during the day. We chose one around 4pm as the chapel is near the train station and that was going to be our last stop in Padua.

Aside from the Arena Chapel the only other two things of interest I wanted to see in Padua were the market designed by Palladio and Donatello's Gattamelata equestrian statue. The Gattamelata stands to the side of the church of St. Anthony's in piazza del Santo. The statue represents Erasmo da Narni, the commander of the Venetian army whose nickname was Gattamelata, which means 'honeyed-cat', because was a smooth talking diplomat. In taking on an equestrian statue of this nature Donatello was doing something that had not been done since ancient times. Year before, Donatello, along with Brunelleschi, traveled to Rome to study ancient works, Donatello sculpture and Brunelleschi architecture. His Gattamelata was largely inspired by the statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome, now in the Capitoline museum, but in his time in front of St. Giovanni in Laterano. The two are very similar, but there are some important differences.

One of the greatest problems an artist faces when constructing an equestrian statue in bronze is supporting all the weight on the main sculpture above on the skinny legs of a horse. The Romans were able to accomplish this with only three legs, Donatello, however could not, and was forced to have the horses front left leg supported by a ball, Aurelius' horse's front right leg is in the air. (Leonardo was commissioned by the Medici's to build an equestrian statue and he tried to do so with the horse rearing up on its hind legs, putting all the weight on two skinny pieces of bronze, however he only completed a wood model.) Both Erasmo and Aurelius have their right hand raised, Aurelius in a Roman gesture of clemency, Erasmo's holding a lance. Both statues are almost exactly the same height, about 11.5 feet, but Donatello's Erasmo is considerably smaller than the Roman Aurelius. The smaller figure actually give him a greater sense of power. This sounds backwards at first, but because the man is smaller and is controlling a beast of the same size he seems even more powerful.

Donatello's Gattamelata outside St. Anthony's in Padua.

The church in the background is impressive and I confess I knew almost nothing about it before going in. The church is laid out like a pilgrimage church that allows for pilgrims to enter and not disturb a service going on in the central nave. This is done through aisles along the sides of the nave and an ambulatory and circles the main altar. This design would allow pilgrims to reach the relics the church contained at any time of day, whether or not there was a service in progress. The theory behind this is that the closer a pilgrim was to a relic the more likely his prayers were to be heard (I really don't understand religion sometime). The church of St. Anthony's contains a trove of relics in a radiating chapel directly behind the main altar. The relics of greatest interest are those of St. Anthony himself, his tongue, larynx and chin are all in glass cases. They were put there in 1980 when his tomb was opened to celebrate some anniversary and those parts had somehow been preserved (again, don't get it). Crystal did make the comment that she felt a particular energy, not at the relics but the tomb on Anthony itself.

After St. Anthony's we headed to the market in piazza della Ragione to pick up somethings for lunch. Crystal and I split up, I was in charge of things to make sandwiches and she was going to get some fruit. I found a butcher that was selling smoked goose, which I of course got (and have been trying to find unsuccessfully in Rome), a piece of a very nice goat cheese and some pane del santo (saint's bread) that had whole sun flower seeds in it. I thought I did a reasonably good job and didn't get more food than we could handle, Crystal went another direction.

When we met she had a large plastic bag with melon and two smaller brown paper bags in it, remember were just looking for lunch. One paper bag contained 4 peaches and 2 nectarines, the other a half kilo of cherries. And then there was the melon. The fruit vendor had given her a taste and she had to get it. I was skeptical at the time, but it ended up working out very well. We ate the melon the next more for breakfast in our hotel, cutting it up with my small swiss army knife and drawing a few strange looks. As good as the melon was, the peaches took first prize. They were unbelievable. So juicy. A really red juice that almost looked like blood it was so red, I couldn't resist and had to take a picture...

...might have been the best peach (well three) I've ever had.

Earlier in the morning we passed a beer store and we picked up two bottles to have with lunch, however they were not cold so we put them in the fountain to cool for a few minutes before we had lunch. Before we started to eat, while waiting for the beer to cool, we discussed the quickest way to cool a bottle of something. Crystal, being a biology teacher, went immediately to dry ice, but agreed with me when I said the best way to go (outside of a lab) is to fill an ice bucket about half way with ice, and then a lot of water and a ton of salt. Stir it up and you get water that is below freezing because salt water has a lower freezing point than fresh water. Cool a bottle of wine in about 10 minutes, much quicker than the freezer. After the beer cooled it went perfectly with the smoked goose and goat cheese sandwich I put together.

After lunch we tried to get into the University where Galileo taught and the first anatomy theater was, but it was closed for no clear reason despite the sign saying there were tours every hour, 't-i-i' as Crystal said, This Is Italy. From there we walked back to the Arena Chapel to see Giotto's frescoes, grabbed our bags and headed to the train station.

Our plan was to take the train to Vicenza, about 20 minutes away, where Palladio spent his formative years and then designed much of the city. However the thing I wanted to see most, his Villa Rotonda, is only open from 10-12 and 3-6 on Wednesdays, we were going to be there on Tuesday. So I'll have to try that some other time. Out of plans we decided to take the first train coming through to anywhere we had heard of and neither of us had been to yet. We ended up going to Mantua. Somewhere I was very excited about but did not think I would get to anytime soon, as it is a little inconvienent.

We got in around 7 and already had found a hotel after flipping through our various guide books. We dropped out stuff off and went out to ejnoy the last hour or so of light. Mantua used to be an island (now it is just a penninsula) but it still sits between three small lakes, very originally named, Higher Lake, Middle Lake and Lower Lake. After walking about town a bit and making our way through the Ducale Palace, once the largest in Italy, none of the rooms were open but the modern day city streets wind through the Palace, we found ourselves on the edge of Middle Lake and happened upon a lakeside bar called Papa's and stopped for a drink.

Crystal enjoying a drink by the lake in Mantua at sunset.

The main church in Mantua is Sant'Andrea designed by Leon Battista Alberti in the latter half of the 15th century. The church is rare in that Alberti was given the commission from the ground up, there was nothing there he had to work around that would interfere with his designs. Alberti, a diligent student of Vitruvius, based much of his design off Roman, and even earlier Etruscan ideas. He was presented with one thing in particular he had to achieve with the design. The city of Mantua has a vial of blood that is supposedly the blood Christ shed on the cross and is displayed once a year. To accomadate the crowds for this event the clergy needed to be able to present the vial to those inside the church as well as out, again the closer people were to the relic the more likely their prayers would be answered. To do this Alberti's facade is a triumphal arch with a low pediment over it, and then another open arch above that with a large rose window where a clergyman could stand holding the vial and present it to the crowd on either side of him.

The interior of the church (the crossing, dome and choir were added later) mixes the triumphal arch motif with an early Etruscan idea for the interior of a temple. Each side of the nave has three massive chapels, mimicking the three cellae that would have been in an Etruscan temple, as described by Vitruvius. Above the nave is a giant coffered barrel vault. The effect inside the church, looking only at Alberti's end and ignoring the near section, as I have tried to capture in the picture, is one that reminds me of the chiaroscuro (contrasting light and dark) that later Renaissance painters strove for. There were only 7 windows in Alberti's original design (not counting the small apse which has been destroyed) and all are very high above the church floor so they each seem to have a beam of light illuminating a certian point in the church, which changes as the day goes on. This leaves very uneven light throughout the building, leave dark corners in opposition to brilliantly illuminated patches.

Interior of Alberti's Sant'Andrea in Mantua

Our last stop in Mantua was Giulio Romano's pleasure palace built for the Gonzaga family, the Palazzo Te. The palace was built at the beginning of the Mannerist period, 1520's and 30's, just following the high Renaissance. This was a period of turmoil in the church, on Haloween in 1517 Martin Luther published his 95 Theses setting off the Protestant Reformation and generally setting the Vatican on the defensive, and just 10 years later Rome was sacked by invading German and French armies who ravaged the city for nearly a year. Art at this time was largely done toward the glory of God, and since things were not going well for Catholics, God must have been angry with what they were doing, so the artistic style began to change. The High Renaissance achieved ideals of ancient proportions, Leonardo's Vitruvian Man being perhaps one of the most famous and obvious examples. The figures of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel were also based in antiquity and reflect largely Greek sculpture, the Belevedere Torso in particular. Raphael's School of Athens brought together all the great minds from antiquity onto one wall. Another explanation for the artistic shift, or possibly just one that added to it, was that artists simply could not execute works to the same levels as the three masters of the period I have listed above, and after their deaths, Leonardo in 1519, Raphael in 1520 (Michelangelo didn't die until 1564 but his style too changed over time) other artists had to try other things.

The Palazzo Te reflects more of the former idea. Giulio Romano was a very skilled architect and had clearly studied his Vitruvius. He also lived and worked in Mantua, a city splattered with Alberti's Early Renaissance works. His palace includes many ancient prinicples and architectural techniques but acknowledges them by playing with them. For example a pediment above a window (the triangle part) with a gap at the top, leaving the triangle without one of it's three points. Another thing he does often is put incredibly enlarged keystones, as you see in the door behind me in the picture below.

Strolling in the courtyard of Giulio Romano's Palazzo Te in Mantua

Inside the palace the rooms are decorated with incredibly lavishly, Romano having designed everything done to the last fireplace. The two rooms of particular note, and which I felt were particularlly Manneristic, were the room of the Giants and the room of Psyche. The room of Psyche depicts a Ducale lunch where if you look at the details are sorts of debauchery is going on: naked bodies everywhere, drunks, a man having sex with a goat, and the list goes on. The Room of the Giants depicts the fall of the giants at the hands of the Olympic gods. Starting from a false dome directly overheard and painting pours down from the triumphant gods above to the larger than life grotesque giants at floor level being crushed beneath massive columns and boulders hurled down by the gods along with an occaisonal lightning bolt from Zeus.

Basilica di San Paolo Fuori le Mura

2009-05-27T13:32:00.004+02:00

Basilica of St. Paul's Outside the Walls

Originally a small church erected by Constantine in 324 over the tomb of St. Paul, where a small shrine had stood for over two centuries before that, today's church was built after a tragic fire in 1823, due to a sloppy workman fixing the roof, burned the whole thing to the ground, sparing only the main apse.

Constantine's church was consecrated on November 18th, 324, and then torn down just sixty years later to make room for the vision of Emperor Theodosius. He began the church in 386 but did not see it to it's conclusion, as he died in January 395 and the church was not completed until the end of that year by the Emperor Honorius. Although is was almost entirely rebuilt, the current church shares much the same design as it's 4th century predecessor. Under Pope Paul VII (late 9th century) walls were built surrounding the church, and attached monastery, to make it a stronghold against invading Saracens and Lombards. In the early 13th century the beautiful cloisters to the south of the church were built, connected to the main church through a door in the transept.

Before entering the church you come into the square courtyard with the imposing figure of St. Paul carrying his sword lording over the small garden. He may be dwarfed in size by the four large palm trees but he nonetheless rules over the well groomed grass and hedges. This is one of the most pleasant entrances to a church in Rome, you are already outside the hustle and bustle of the center of town in this neighborhood, and stepping through the Corinthian colonnade that is open on the front you enter an even more tranquil space. The thing that strikes me the most is meticulously kept grass and stark contrast it provides with the white statue, grey columns, azure sky and gold mosaics that cover the facade of the church. The picture below shows the first glimpse of the courtyard as you enter from the far right. The columns on the shady sides make for a great spot to take a load off and enjoy a tranquil moment after a hectic bus or train ride and before entering the church.

As I said before the church was burned to the ground in 1823, but the restorations tried to follow the designs of the old church as much as possible, so the feel inside is the same as it had been for over 1400 years. When the church burned the entire Catholic world contributed to its reconstruction including, most notably, pillars of alabaster from the Viceroy of Egypt and precious malachite and lapis lazuli from the Emperor of Russia. The floor plan stands out the most to me. It is a giant rectangle with an enormous unobstructed nave that is lined on both sides by double side aisles, created a forest of columns that one must pass through before reaching the central nave, an idea that Bernini may have had in mind over a thousand years later when he built the piazza in front of St. Peter's. Compared to the tall nave with airy clerestory windows, the side aisles are dark and offer a more intimate space even they are only divided by columns. Their only illumination comes from windows that are covered not with glass but with incredibly thin cut marble arranged in symmetrical patterns that bring to mind a Rorschach inkblot test.

As you walk to the front of the nave you will see the two over life-size statues of St. Peter and Paul flanking the 13th century baldacchino (spared by the fire) by Arnolfo di Cambio (original architect of the Duomo in Florence). In front of the baldacchino there is a set of stair that leads down about six feet or so into a small open space where you can see the supposed tomb of St. Paul as well as the chains that bound the Saint in the last days before his execution.

Also of note in the main part of the church is the apse mosaic that was also spared by the fire and was executed by Venetian artists in the 13th century. The mosaic depicts Christ surrounded by the Apostles Peter, Paul, Andrew and Luke. There is also a portrait of Pope Honorius, who commissioned the work, near Christ's feet.

If you are facing the apse walk to the right towards the southern end of the transept and you will find the entrance to the cloister (3 euros, 1.50 reduced), certainly worth the price of admission. The cloister was also built in the 13th century and this small graceful courtyard is lined with columns of varying shapes and decorations from serpentine white columns to columns inlaid with chevron mosaics. While the courtyard at the entrance catches you with its size and power, here detail is the clincher. The walls of the cloister are lined with ancient marble slabs salvaged from the original church and bear Latin and Greek inscriptions. In the far left corner of the cloister you can enter the small pinacoteca (picture gallery) which also includes a room of relics

The church sits south of Rome's historic center in the Ostiense neighborhood and is a long walk from the center of town but is easily reached on the metro (B line to San Paolo) or Bus, #23 runs along the Tiber and stops directly in front of the main facade.

Ovid on picking up a girl at the Circus Maximus from his Ars Amatoria (Art of Love)

2009-05-27T13:27:00.002+02:00

Furthermore, don't overlook the meetings when horses are running;
In the crowds at the track opportunity waits.
There is no need for a code of finger-signals or nodding.
Sit as close as you like; no one will stop you at all.
In fact, you will have to sit close - that's one of the rules, at a race track.
Whether she likes it or not, contact is part of the game.
Try to find something in common, to open the conversation;
Don't care too much what you say, just so that every one hears.
Ask her, 'Whose colors are those?' - that's good for an opening gambit.
Put your own bet down, fast, on whatever she plays.
Then, when the gods come along in procession, ivory, golden,
Outcheer every young man, shouting for Venus, the queen.
Often it happens that dust may fall on the blouse of the lady.
If such dust should fall, carefully brush it away.
Even if there's no dust, brush off whatever there isn't.
Any excuse will do: why do you think you have hands?
If her cloak hangs low, and the ground is getting dirty,
Gather it up with care, lift it a little, so!
Maybe by way of reward, and not without her indulgence,
You'll be able to see ankle or possibly knee.
Then look around and glare at the fellow who's sitting behind you,
Don't let him crowd his knees into her delicate spine.
Girls, as everyone knows, adore these little attentions:
Getting the cushion just right, that's in itself quite an art;
Yes, and it takes a technique in making a fan or your program
Or in fixing a stool under the feet of a girl.
Such is the chance of approach the race track can offer a lover.

Fans or Fanatics?

2009-05-27T11:59:00.003+02:00

The Champions League final is in Rome tonight at the Olympic Stadium north of the center of town. Much to the disappointment of Italy, all Italian teams were knocked out of competition months ago, so Barcelona will face off against Manchester United tonight. Much of what I have heard is rumor I'm sure, but I think there must be some truth behind it. The capacity of the Olympic Stadium is about 80,000 fans, but apparently another 30,000 to 70,000 (numbers vary from source to source) screaming British fans have descended on Rome to catch whatever piece of the action they can. The vast majority of these will not find tickets to the game (which are being sold for upwards of 1500 euros) and so will be roaming the streets looking for a watering hole to watch the game.

The city of Rome has taken measures against the general festivities. Starting last night at 11pm and running until 6am tomorrow morning, bars and pubs in the center of town are not allowed to serve alcohol. The main thoroughfares running through Rome will also be closed starting around 2 this afternoon.

To me these seem like very extreme measures. Rome is a major city, 3 million people in the city proper and 5 if you count the suburbs. That a soccer game could cause such massive changes is difficult to comprehend fully. Imagine if the city hosting the Superbowl could not serve alcohol and cut off the majority of it's larger roads? Doesn't seem like that would go over very well.

Which brings me to the title of this post, are European soccer fans that much crazier about their teams that their American counterparts? Does a national tie to a team make the connection stronger than living in the same city as the team? I think America lacks greatly in its support of our teams that play internationally. Look at the World Baseball Classic that has taken place in the last few years, it was barely a blip on the radar screen of Americans, even serious baseball fans. For countries such as Japan (they won it by the way) it was a huge event. The first rounds, pool play with four groups of four teams, were played in Mexico, Canada, Japan and Puerto Rico, but the second round, semi-finals and finals were all played in the States. The US team made a good showing and made it to the semis, losing to the eventually champions.

The reason bars are not allowed to serve alcohol is obvious, the city is afraid that drunk Brits (they aren't that concerned with the Spaniards) will turn the city upside after the game, win or lose. Are British fans that much more violent that American fans? Or just drunker? Or maybe both. I don't have an answer to these questions but it is impressive that a soccer game could have such a huge effect on a city as large as Rome.

Hotel Raphael

2009-05-25T15:24:00.003+02:00

The hotel is one of Rome's finest and included in a very short list I saw in the Times travel section along with the likes of the Hotel de Russie and the Hassler Hotel (Romes finest 5 star luxury hotels). Originally a Renaissance Palace, this building has undergone many renovations throughout the years. The Hotel opened in the 1960's after massive interior restorations, leaving the 18th century facade intact due it's demarcation as a national historical monument. Little of that facade is visible today because it has become a living wall of greenery. The entire building is covered with different types of ivy so that only the front door is uncovered. Some of the larger vines can be seen sinuously twisted into the metal grates covering the lower windows. Once you enter the hotel it has a very modern feel. The lobby sports various works of art including some ceramics by Picasso.

If you take the elevator to the fifth floor, walk up one more flight you emerge onto the multi-level terrace which offers one of the most stunning views of Rome. Set one block back from Piazza Navona, the roof is in the middle of the historic center of Rome and offers a spectacular view of the surrounding area. Looking southeast (behind Florian's head in the picture below) the first thing you see is the dome of Sant'Agnese in Agone, a masterpiece started by Rainaldi and finished by Borromini. Continuing left from that you'll see the top of the obelisk which sits on top of Bernini's Fountain of the Four Rivers. After that Borromini's fanciful dome of Sant'Ivo alla Sapienza. When he finished construction on the dome the pope at the time (I think Alexander VII) was not convinced the construction would stand so he forced Borromini to guarantee it with his own money. In the distance to the left side of the picture you can see the Vittorio Emanuele monument with it's four horse chariots rising high above the Forum.

Other highlights of the view (not in the picture) include the dome of the Pantheon, Villa Medici on the southern edge of the Villa Borghese as well as the many gardens that dot the Roman skyline.

Given that it is a luxury hotel, things do not come cheap at the restaurant, but a bottles of wine start at 28 euros (not extortionate for where you're sitting). We had a very nice Palai Muller Thurgau from the Dolomites which went well with the breeze. Cocktails are 14 euros, beer 11 euros, coffee 4 euros for an espresso and 6.50 for a cappuccino. The also have salads (12 euros) and sandwiches (14-16 euros). Attached to the bar is also the hotel restaurant which is supposed to be fantastic, but incredibly expensive, I didn't get a chance to look at the menu so I can't say any more about that.

Shrimp and Melon Salad

2009-05-24T15:58:00.003+02:00

This salad is perfect for a hot afternoon and a great starter to a light summer lunch.

shrimp - small-med
melon
crispy romaine lettuce
dijon mustard
olive oil
black pepper

1. Boil shrimp, cool, peel and cut in halves (pieces about 1/4-1/2 in)

2. Cut melon into small pieces - same size as shrimp

3. Shred lettuce, combine all ingredients

4. Mix olive oil and mustard in about 1-1 ratio with a little bit of black pepper

5. Pour dressing over salad and serve

Angels and Demons

2009-05-20T22:37:00.002+02:00

When I first read Angels and Demons I enjoyed it much more than the Da Vinci Code because I had been to Rome before and could picture in my head where the story was taking place. I would have to say the movies turned out similarly to the books, I enjoyed the most recent edition more. I did not think particularly highly of the Da Vinci Code as a movie, entertaining, but nothing I would rush to buy a copy of or another ticket to. So my expectations going in to Angels and Demons were not particularly high.

I had seen a part of the filming of the movie when I had just arrived in Rome last June with my cousin Linzee. We were walking towards Piazza Navona one night and came to a street that was closed off and had to detour around. We did not know exactly what as going on, but when we finally reached the piazza we saw a large crowd, peered over there heads and there was Tom Hanks having his make-up put on talking with director Ron Howard. I took a picture with Linzee's camera held above the heads of the crowd which I still have not seen beyond the small screen on her camera.

The movie was shot all over Rome last summer and the best story I heard about it involved a scene they were shooting near the Pantheon. It was a Saturday and someone was getting married in the Pantheon (not sure just anyone can do that) but the entrance was blocked by the film crew and the bride's limo could not reach the front door. Somehow Tom Hanks got wind of this and stopped whatever he was going and escorted the bride and her father to church. There was even a picture of it the next day in the daily Metro newspaper.

As for the movie itself, Rome shines above all. Dan Brown's two books that have been turned into movies have one major difficulty in that they are jammed full of so much information (some accurate, some questionably so) that it is difficult to pass all that along in film version. To do this Tom Hanks' character, Robert Langdon, runs off a few random facts here and there that it seems no one else on screen really cares about, but are necessary to move the plot along and keep the audience informed.

Another interesting fact, the Pope would not let any of the movie be filmed in Vatican City. This is obviously a big problem as the climactic 10 minutes or so all take place in the Vatican as well as other scenes here and there. The CGI is good and I was particularly impressed with the depictions of the interior of St. Peter's. It is an absolutely overwhelming space and I think they captured that well.

Like the Da Vinci Code, not something I will run out and buy, but very entertaining and a good start to the summer actions movies.

Michelangelo on the superiority of sculpture to painting

2009-05-20T15:49:00.001+02:00

"The more painting resembles sculpture, the better I like it, and the more sculpture resembles painting, the worse I like it. Sculpture is the torch by which painting is illuminated, and the difference between them is the difference between the sun and the moon."

Chicken Marsala with sage

2009-05-18T22:24:00.004+02:00

While the bulk of my kitchen education recently has come at Pierluigi, my roommate Domenico is an excellent cook and has taught me a thing or two as well, including his Chicken Marsala, that comes with a history lesson about the origins of Marsala every time he cooks it.

Marsala is a town in very Western tip of Sicily, where an English trader named John Woodhouse visited in the late 18th century and tasted the local wine which was very similar to a Port or a Sherry, which were both very popular in England at the time. The process by which Marsala is called in perpetuum which raises the alcohol level, thus preserving the wine better over long distance travel. Woodhouse eventually returned to Sicily and began mass producing Marsala.

It is certainly an entertaining story, but I now think I have heard it at least half a dozen times, even Florian begins to roll his eyes when Domenico gets going these days. Here's the recipe:

chicken breasts - 1 lb or so - sliced thin the long way or flattened with hammer
sage - fresh leaves (chopped in 1/4" pieces) are better, but dried work pretty well
olive oil
Marsala - 1/2 cup maybe

1. Heat pan with olive oil on medium heat

2. Put chicken on and sprinkle sage on top. Cook until nice and brown, but turn regularly so it doesn't burn.

3. Once chicken is browned pour in Marsala and cook until is reduces to a glaze.

4. Serve immediately and be sure to pour the drippings from the pan onto the chicken.

Serves 4, great with potatoes cubed and roasted with some butter, salt and dried sage