Ahò, e daje! Magna a Taverna de' Mercanti!

[It's Food Week at AHIR: all food, all drink, all week, leading up to World Nutella Day on February 6! It's going global, folks: RSVPs from Argentina to Australia; Nutella Day Parties already planned in Houston, San Francisco and Milan; and we've even got a fan singing the joys of Nutella in French, all the way from Paris!]

Forgive me, I lapsed into Roman dialect in my title today, but it's only because where we're going now just brings it out in me. This place, IMHO, wins hands-down for Rome's most fun and authentic period building and atmosphere to dine in. Naturally, it's in Trastevere, where else?

First off, it's in what I consider one of the most charming piazzas by night: Piazza de' Mercanti. Imagine those places that Disneyland or some other theme park tries to recreate: a cobblestone square surrounded by quaint houses with flower boxes in the windows; big, hulking medieval buildings with flaming torches out front; ivy lazily creeping down the sides of the brick walls. Eating at Taverna de' Mercanti is definitely like stepping back in time, and even though they do play up the uniqueness of their location (most likely a former stable building from the 1400s or thereabouts, although I'm not really sure on this), luckily it doesn't feel too "touristy" or put on.

Take the front door, for example. After you walk through the heavy door whose entrance is flanked by two flaming torches, you climb this staircase to reach the dining area.

See what I mean? It's one of those places that looks fake because it is so authentic. Does that make any sense?

Now take the menu. When you arrive at your table, you'll find this rolled up into a scroll, waiting for you on your plate. It's about 2 feet tall by 1 foot wide.

I can't tell you how many times I've taken mine home with me, intending to frame it and perhaps hang it in one of our vacation apartments here in Trastevere, but I've never gotten around to it (yet). The fact is though, it makes for a special (and free) souvenir. It's printed on really nice paper and has sayings in Roman dialect.

As for the food, well, it's always excellent. Nothing too fancy. They specialize in "carne alla brace," grilled meats, and they have a large open grill in the dining room, so there's a real rustic feeling to the place, in addition to the period furnishings they have hung on the walls and from the ceiling.

(I can assure you that their chefs are not under the influence of anything; I just happened to catch this poor guy at the wrong moment.)

They also have a nice range of pizze (yes, folks, that's how we say "pizzas" around here). Per esempio:
Now, this is a pizza that's got way too much going on for me to ever eat it (I mean, hello, fried egg in the middle?) but Ale loves it. It's the capricciosa. Usually it's half of a hard-boiled egg, but who knows, I guess they got creative here.

I didn't manage to get a shot of any of the waiters, but they wear traditional period dress, complete with blousy shirts and neckerchiefs.

All in all, it's a fun night out, and a great place for couples and families alike. The place is huge, so reservations generally aren't necessary, but in the summer it gets crowded so you might want to go by early (7:45-8 pm) or call ahead. One of the most coveted spots is a table on the piazza--definitely worth it if you can manage to book one. Pizza is a bit pricey, ranging from €10-€15, while the meat dishes go from €10-€48 (and you can even have grilled quail if you really have a craving). We usually end up spending about €25-€30 per person including the house wine.

TAVERNA DE' MERCANTI
Piazza de' Mercanti 3/a
Closed Sundays
Tel. 06/5881693

Tea Time at Zeno

[It's Food Week at AHIR: all food, all drink, all week, leading up to World Nutella Day on February 6!]I have a fantastic new discovery for all you tea-lovers out there. Let's just say that finding a really nice cup of tea in Rome isn't the easiest thing to do. After all, we are in the espresso capital of the known world. So, fair enough.

All that is about to change. How is it possible that Zeno has already been open for a year and I hadn't found it? Boh! (Maybe I can manage to use my favorite Italian expression in every post this week.) In any case, now that I've found it, I'm letting you in on the secret.

These people know tea. Not only do you get your very own little tea set when you order, it comes complete with a TIMER that tells you when to pull out the filter. Geniale!

This is the Japanese tea set I got when I ordered the Bancha green tea. Their menu has about 7 pages of different teas: black teas, white teas, green teas, herbal teas, (wait, I'm starting to sound like Forrest Gump with shrimp...I'll stop now.) Besides tea, they also have lots of cose sfiziose, indulgent things, like crepes--I counted no less than 16 different kinds, even one with whiskey and one with fig and pear. The one below was with a 70% cacao dark chocolate and was massively rich. I shared it with my friend but between the both of us we couldn't even finish it.

There are tea smoothies, 8 different types of hot chocolate from Domori, a super-gourmet chocolatier in Genova, as well as hot chocolate "aromatizzato" with flavors ranging from hot pepper to coconut, liquorice, cinnamon and even the intriguing Schezuan pepper. Not sure I'd go there with hot chocolate, but it's fun seeing it on the menu anyways.

This is the tea-prep station where they get your little tea set ready after you order. The wait staff is really friendly and explain everything to you on your first time in. When your timer starts beeping, they give a discreet look over to check on you, just to make sure you know where everything goes and don't need a hand.

The atmosphere is laid-back and trendy without being stuck-up. There is a cozy feeling, like when you curl up on the couch with a good book. I've been here twice and both times I've found it to be a relaxing and enjoyable place to be. I even got the impression that they wouldn't mind if you took a book to read or did some studying, and that, my friends, is really something: it's not easy to find a place to just "hang out," read or study here in Rome. Public libraries are pretty much non-existent, and of those that do exist, most won't even let you bring in your own books! I've found the coffee bars geared to a quick espresso on the run, not kick-back coffee houses like you might find on a college campus, for example. So this is another point in Zeno's favor.

Zeno is in the Prati neighborhood not far from the Vatican Museums, but is so hidden away that no tourists will probably ever discover it, unless it gets listed in a guide book. So, tourists and visitors in the know, take the tip: if you've spent a day wandering around the Vatican and you need to take a load off, let the folks at Zeno pamper you for a bit. You won't regret it!

Zeno
Via Santamaura 60
Open 4 pm-1 am daily; closed Mondays

Chronicle of an Abruzzese Dinner

This week, in a grand lead-up to World Nutella Day, I am declaring Food Week over here at AHIR: all food, all drink, all the time. At least this week. (By the way, I do trust that all my fearless readers are getting their entries ready for WND? Don't wait until the last minute! The clock is ticking!)

Allora... we've got to start Food Week with a bang. So where do we turn but Abruzzo? Home of hearty mountain cooking. It's freezing there, people! They have to eat lots and lots so they can stay warm. It's like bears going into hibernation for the winter. Remember when we went hiking (ok, hiking is a big word. Let's say walking.) in the Parco Nazionale? That was to burn off the calories from our previous night's dinner. Abruzzo food=comfort food. Hence the cozy fireplace at Plistia, hidden haven of cucina Abruzzese in Pescasseroli:

And no, you won't go thirsty, just look at that mantel!

The owner here (I think his name is Ciccetto, or at least his nickname is Ciccetto), really went all out. Once he saw the "americana" whip out her camera, he put on a show. I have photographic evidence of all dishes consumed. There's nothing like a crackling fireplace in a rustic Abruzzese restaurant with just a few tables, stuffing yourself with dish after delicious dish, when it's freezing outside. I literally felt like a guest in this guy's home, partly because our friends know him, partly because he's just like that with everyone.

(CUE the boxing round bell....DING! And no, there will be no bikini-clad women holding signs on my blog). Round One:

Most Abruzzo restaurants will first serve you an appetizer of local cheeses and cold cuts on a wooden board. Plistia? Check. These were the cheeses for that evening, slices of which were served to us along with prosciutto and salame.

DING, DING! Round Two:

No, we didn't get the whole thing. It was more for show. But we did get the first piping-hot slices. It was a flaky, phyllo-like pastry crust filled with spinach and cheese. I can't even remember what kind of cheese. I was already nearing food coma.

DING, DING! Round Three:

I'm such a bad blogger. I think I blacked out at this point from food overdose, because I can't even remember what was in this soup. I have a faint recollection of hearing "cotechino," which is a pork sausage traditional around the New Year (we were there in early January), but folks, shame on me. You'll just have to guess from the shapes floating in the bowl. Gnocchi? Potatoes? Boh! (All-purpose Italian word for "who knows!")

I'm about to throw in the towel, but no! DING, DING! Round Four:

Now, these ravioli I definitely remember. They were something special. Red turnip ravioli filled with ricotta and walnuts. Speechless. Ravioli with ricotta and walnuts in general are heavenly, with just a touch of olive oil and fresh parmesan.

And just like Rocky, we push onwards. Yo, Adrian! DING, DING! Round Five:

At this point you'll just have to start describing the dishes yourselves... running out of steam... must keep going... there was some green stuff... and some grated cheese on top...

DING-DING! Round Six: (Attention vegetarians: Hide your eyes! Look away! Look away!)

As if we needed a nice, juicy steak on top of everything else. And folks, please note that this was not a communal steak but just my personal plate (or personal huge wooden board, if you will). Often in Italy I've found that meat is served "al sangue" which is rare, to bring out the flavor. You'll never find a menu here like the one I once saw in the States, basically telling you that if you ordered anything less than medium you were at your own risk, the State Health Department didn't recommend it, etc... no, here most of the restaurant owners either butcher their own meat or know the butcher and get it fresh, so it's less of a worry.

Oh, people, the end is near! When our friend called in the afternoon to make a reservation, the owner asked us if we wanted crema pasticciera for dessert. This was freshly homemade that day, warm confectioner's custard oozing out from crispy, sweet millefoglie wafers and powdered sugar. Can you say YUM? Yes, there was still room left for this. How can you resist?

And Ginkers, this was the photo I was talking about, just for you. The owner pulled out a box of his "special" grappa, this one from Nannoni, an unopened bottle, pointing out to us that the license number was 000001 or something like that, meaning that these were the first producers to ever acquire the license the government put into place for grappa producers. Ginkers, you could probably explain it better, but after all, it's the drinking of it that counts, as I'm sure you'd agree? Ale and I were actually the only ones brave enough to try. Me likey.

With this, our Abruzzese food battle is over. We've lost; we were really no match for these dishes in the first place, but we leave contented anyways. I don't know if I'll ever get back to Plistia, but if you ever go to Pescasseroli sometime, I highly recommend it. And ask Ciccetto what that green stuff was, will you?

Ristorante Plistia
Viale Principe di Napoli 28
Pescasseroli, Abruzzo
Tel. (0863) 910732

Un-American Graffiti

The other day, I posted a video that my friend Finny made when she was visiting, of me driving around my neighborhood streets looking for parking (in this post). One of my guests who will be arriving in a few months and has never stayed with us, but who follows my blog, got in touch with me to mention that with all that graffiti you see on the video, could it be that my neighborhood (Trastevere) is in a run-down or dangerous area?

Fair enough question. Truth be told, Trastevere was a pretty rough neighborhood in the 50s and 60s, but over the years has actually undergone an urban gentrification, becoming one of the more expensive and well-to-do areas of the city (believe it or not, after seeing the graffiti-covered buildings in the video). I wonder if graffiti=crime is still a good general rule of thumb to apply in the States? In my experience, it certainly doesn't work that way here in Europe. I realize that most Americans live in a suburban, not city, environment, and so may not be used to seeing graffiti, and thus they associate it with a run-down or dangerous area. In many of the suburban areas and gated residential communities that are so frequent in the States, you generally don't find distinctions between the "bad" and "good" parts of town as you would in a city, and private homes would probably be the only place to put graffiti. It's the urban environment that seems to invite the graffiti "artist" to go to work, and I think we should take a take a closer look at how common the practice of graffiti is here in Rome, who is doing it, and what it means.

In most of the larger European cities I have visited, I have seen an abundance of graffiti. Everywhere. Near the train station and shady-looking businesses around it. Near and even on the richer homes (which are still apartment buildings, not single-family dwellings). On the shops. On the subway cars. Even on the churches. Everywhere within about a 2 meter radius from the ground, anywhere there's a nice "canvas" of wall, seems to be fair game.

When you live here you tend not to notice it, but my guest's comment has really made me stop to consider the topic. I'm now kind of more sensitive to it since I need to be able to communicate the European urban reality to people who may never have experienced a European city before, and may be justifiably put off by the fact that there is graffiti on the walls, and what that says about the area.

Here's what I came up with on my walk back from the grocery store yesterday, as a little examination of this topic.

First, I think the majority of the graffiti you'll find is simple tagging, kind of like a cat spraying to mark territory. Take this street corner off of Viale Trastevere for example: make a simple 360° turn, and on every corner of the intersection you'll find the same tag: "Lucas."



I found Lucas all down the road as well, once I started looking for it.

Here's another example of tagging that I found in various spots in the neighborhood. Can you decipher what the "tag" is?


If you said "Croels," you're right. (Now scroll back up to the first "Lucas" photo. Notice anything?)

Here's the first piece of graffiti I ever saw in my neighborhood, five years ago. Who knows when it originally went up. I still remember it because I thought it was funny, and since I was just learning Italian, I was proud of myself for understanding it as well:

It says "More houses, less churches." Graffiti as political statement, especially when painted directly on a church. Rome's housing situation is very difficult.

Evidently inspired by this succinct and effective message, someone else decided on a new rhyming phrase that has sprung up next to it, on the same church:

"More green, less...." well, I'll let you look that one up in your Italian dictionary. Let's just say that dog owners aren't so good about picking up after their dogs when they walk them.

Some graffiti can get quite elaborate and almost artistic:

And if it stops for long enough, even a press delivery truck becomes fair game:

Often you'll see buildings that look a bit two-toned, like this restaurant:

That's because they are constantly painting over the graffiti. But just next door, this:

Because it all depends on the owner of the building, and if they can afford to keep painting over it.

What point am I trying to make? The truth of the matter is that I'm no sociologist or criminologist. I wish I understood better the reason why graffiti is such a common practice here in European cities. I agree that it's a shame to see it on churches and buildings of important historical significance, and it certainly can be an eyesore. But I think when we're talking about graffiti and associating it with crime or a "bad" neighborhood, we need to understand the context we're dealing with.

Why are the graffiti artists tagging all over? Is it because they want to commit crimes in the neighborhood, or because my particular neighborhood attracts a delinquent crowd? No. Like I said, you'll see graffiti pretty much throughout Rome. (As an aside, when the Rome soccer team won the national championship in 2001 for the first time in 20 years, "normal" people turned into rampant graffiti artists, spray-painting elaborate emblems on the streets and buildings in broad daylight, for weeks on end.) So the question remains: why?

In college I took a few criminal justice classes (a secret passion and curiosity of mine--I took all the electives I could, as I was actually an advertising major) and one of my professors, Jeff Ferrell, had gone underground to do field research with graffiti crews, getting to know them inside-out and writing an interesting book on the topic. I have to say that Crimes of Style: Urban Graffiti and the Politics of Criminality was hands-down one of the most engaging course textbooks I ever had. One reviewer of the book comments:

"In the graffiti artists' use of space and in their definitions of beauty and neighborhood, they uncover the way power and meanings are manufactured. Ferrell's work is a powerful, clear, and engaging book; one which shows stunning new ways of seeing and studying 'crime.'"

Later, when I became a copywriter at an ad agency, my creative director actually hired a graffiti artist to do a mural on a city wall for a campaign we were working on, and the graffiti artist went on to sell some of his work in art galleries.

That's the thing: whether we like it or not, many of these spray-can toting individuals do define themselves as artists, not criminals, and no amount of clean-up is ever going to truly get rid of the problem. I don't really know how to reassure my guests on questions like this. I think many people who have traveled to Rome for the first time have probably been initially shocked at seeing all the graffiti, but then it most likely fades into the background once they see that it isn't an occurrence particular to just one area, but pretty much to all areas.

In the end I can't really provide a good answer. And I'm sure if I could, it would be way too complex and involved for this post, anyway. I just wanted to bring up the topic and open it for discussion. I'm curious to hear what your impressions are when seeing this, what experiences you have to add, and if you are qualified to enlighten us from a more academic or sociological point of view, please do so!

Celebrity Sighting in Rome

Funny thing about Rome. I’ve been here over five years and I’m just now coming to the realization that as long as I live here, there will be moments when I will run across minor or major celebrities when simply going about my daily life. The other night is when this finally hit home for me.

Ale and I went to a symphony orchestra concert at the Auditorium. When the lights came up at the intermission, we in the peanut gallery look down at the expensive “platea” seats on the main floor and Ale says, “Hey, there’s Bruna Vespa.” Those of you in Italy will know him as the host of the nightly national talk show Porta a Porta, where, inexplicably, the theme music is “Gone With the Wind” and when a guest enters, Vespa discreetly pushes a button to ring a doorbell and you hear DING-DONG and it’s like “Oooh, who’s there?” Then they cue up some more “Gone With the Wind” and the guest walks in. So cheesy.

When Ale came back from walking around during intermission, he says to me, “Hey, I saw Ciampi out there.” Ciampi. Yes, THAT Ciampi. No less than the 10th President of the Italian Republic. “Whoa! Where’d you see him?” I ask. “He was waiting in line for the bathroom with me.” I start laughing. Hey, even an ex-president is only human.

Here are some other personal examples of how daily life in Rome can have you rubbing elbows with the famosi:

• One day two summers ago I was waiting on a street corner near my office, going to lunch, and traffic suddenly stopped. The main street was deserted, not a single car moving in either direction. We weren’t allowed to cross the street. No one moved. It was one of the most surreal things I’ve experienced here in Rome. After about 5 minutes of dead nothing on this busy main street, Pope Benedetto comes by, standing up in his pope-mobile, waving to the crowd. I was “this close.” Of course that was before I started blogging, so didn’t have my camera in my purse. Doh!

• When I went to see Nanni Moretti’s last film, Il Caimano, at a certain point I noticed my colleague’s son playing soccer on screen. Turns out he goes to school with Moretti’s son and that’s how he got to be an extra.

• Eating at Augustarello, a super down-home and rough around the edges trattoria in my neighborhood, we spot Martina Stella, who I think lives around the corner from me. She was the man-stealer in L’Ultimo Bacio.

• We used to get our traditional cappuccino and cornetto all the time at this one bar near Piazza S. Cosimato, that is now sadly under new management. Sadly, because the cashier there was this feisty old lady who we adored. One time we went to see the latest Carlo Verdone (Italian comic legend) film, and at a certain point, there she was, feisty as ever, with one rude line to yell at someone in the movie. Hilarious! We’re like: that’s the lady we pay for our cappuccino! Turns out Verdone knew her too, and appreciated the comic value of her energetic Roman-ness, so gave her a one-liner in his movie.

• Speaking of Verdone, Ale has had a few “sightings” of both him and Cristian De Sica, another famous Italian comic actor, at coffee bars near the Monteverde Vecchio neighborhood, where I think both of them live.

• When I was getting my hair cut a while back, my hairstylist, who works alone, got a call on his cell phone. “No, I told you, you can’t just come in here like that! Oh, fine. But hurry.” Next thing I know, my hairstylist Alberto is washing some guy’s hair in the sink next to me, and I can swear I recognize him from somewhere. I don’t really watch Italian TV but I got to chatting with him and he was telling me how he’s “the voice” of Will Farrell here in Italy. (You do know that every foreign actor has an Italian voice counterpart that does his or her voice in every film? It doesn’t change until the dubber dies!) I looked the guy up online and it was Pino Insegno, a minor celebrity on the TV and stage circuit here in Rome. I’ll never look at Will Farrell the same way.

• Another time when I went to lunch during work, I saw these yellow signs everywhere that said “To Set.” Not trying to be too discreet about that one! As I walked by the Pantheon, a huge crowd was gathered. Turns out they were filming a scene from Ocean’s 12 that day, and everyone was waiting for someone like Brad Pitt or George Clooney to come out.

• At our church one morning I saw a guy with a ton of bodyguards, praying silently. It was another ex-president, Cossiga.

• Speaking of our church, we’re taking this mandatory pre-marriage class, that frankly is more than a tad dull. One night though when we show up for our “lesson,” our teacher says, “I was thinking, instead of having a class tonight, maybe you would like to go into the church for a prayer. There’s some Nobel Prize winner visiting, Tutu someone…” We’re like: Desmond Tutu? Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize? Seeing him speak definitely beat the normal lesson!

Maybe you'll remember my brush with 80s celebrity when I picked Don Johnson up from the airport in Trani this summer, where they were filming the movie that one of Ale’s clients was producing. Turns out “DJ” is now doing “Guys and Dolls” at London’s Picadilly Theatre and invited us to come see him, so we got a 1 cent Ryan Air flight for early February (after World Nutella Day, that is!). From Sonny Crockett to Nash to Italian Mafia boss to Broadway star—what will he come up with next? Did you know he sings? This was total news to me, people! I’ll report back on our “new pal’s” performance.

Celebrity sighting to me sometimes seems like an exotic sport with wild animals. I sure wouldn’t want to be one of them.

Have you ever had any celebrity “sightings”? What do you think about the whole phenomenon of spotting celebrities?

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Roma E' Strana

That means Rome is weird. It's not such a bad thing. You see, I got tagged by Finny Knits for the "Six Weird Things About You Meme" and since I tagged Finny a while back, it's only fair that I play along. But, Dio Mio, says I! Who wants to know weird things about me? This is a respectable Rome-themed blog and so I'm not telling, unless you come to Rome yourself and buy me a nice glass of wine--I'll even let you choose what kind. After last week's Wine Series, you're schooled and ready to go, right?

So, in keeping with my blog theme, I'm going with a modified version: "Six Weird Things About Your City Meme." And here are the slightly modified rules.

THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the 6 weird things about their city. People who get tagged need to write a post of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 bloggers to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment on each of their blogs telling them they have been tagged, and tell them to read your blog, leaving a hyperlink to your post if possible.

Let us not forget that I've already shared my Ten Things I Will Never Understand About Rome. But those were curious mysteries I have absolutely no answer to, while these are just plain curiosities, whether we can explain them or not. So here's my official weird ("unique"? "special"?) list.

1. Il Parcheggiatore

This is a mythical figure here in Rome, of utter and complete annoyance. You're in your car, looking desperately for a parking spot. A kind of shady-looking character standing in a parking spot (often one marked by blue lines meaning it's a city-mandated spot and costs 1 EUR an hour) starts waving you over. "Ehi, capo! Vieni!" (Hey, boss, over here!) You think, OK, now that's a public parking space. Outta my way, buddy. But no! You see, this is his JOB. He "parks" people. Abusivamente. Illegally. The parcheggiatore abusivo does pretty well, because if you don't pay him a euro or two for "finding" you a spot, he just might key your car, or something equally lovely. Now, in my neighborhood, where it's virtually impossible to find a spot, these guys turn up on occasion in a couple of parking areas. I generally don't need to park where they hang out, but if I am desperate and it's the only spot I can find, you better believe I'm not paying them. I pretend I don't hear them. This is one of the benefits of having a 15-year old car whose 6-month insurance payment is more than the total value of the car itself.

Speaking of parking, just for fun, here's a video you may not have seen on Finny's blog. Her plan was to film how incredibly impossible it is to find parking in my neighborhood (I'm behind the wheel), but instead the parking gods smiled down on us and we found a spot just waiting for us.



2. Umbrellas, bubble guns, and possessed kitties.

When it rains, umbrella sellers mysteriously appear everywhere. When it's sunny, they sell guns that make electronic noises and shoot bubbles. That is, when they're not selling battery-operated velvet kitties that make scary meowing noises and have red eyes, or a plastic Smart car model that they place in a shoebox top so that it can run up against the borders of the box, making honking noises and opening and closing its doors.

Behold this picture as evidence:

Walking across Tiber Island one day, I find this guy amusing himself by shooting his bubble gun for sale. There are a million and one of these street hawkers and apparently they all get their merchandise from the ACME Junk Warehouse. Who BUYS this stuff? And WHERE do they all congregate to automatically switch all of their various merchandise to only umbrellas of every shape and size at the first sign of rain? Mah! Mistero.

3. Taking wind.

Romans are pretty funny when it comes to cold temperatures. If you aren't covered up to your chin with a scarf when it's cold, you'll literally catch a cold. "Copriti bene! Prenderai freddo!" (Cover up! You'll catch cold!) was one of the first phrases I learned in Italian, I heard it so often. One time I had an earache for like a week, so I went to the doctor and his first question to me was "Did you take wind?" (Hai preso vento?) What's THAT 'sposta mean? Apparently if your ear "takes wind," meaning if a gust of cold wind happens to blow in your ear, well, it causes a prolonged earache, even for a week or two. I'm not saying this isn't medically valid. I'm no doctor. I just thought it was weird. BTW, the earache went away on its own.

4. Only two subway/underground lines.

It's weird for a huge European capital like Rome. We struggle along with nearly 300 daytime bus lines. It makes for pollution and gridlock, yet, we have just Metro A and Metro B, which only intersect for transfers at one point: Termini train station. And even those two lines took like 20 years to complete, or something ridiculous like that. I'm not going to the trouble to look up the exact amount of time, but trust me, it was a lot. You see, weird thing... every time they start digging, all this stuff from these people who lived here like 2,000 years ago keeps getting in the way.
Wait! Wait! What's that, you say? Metro C? Have a look for yourself:

Here we are in front of the famous "wedding cake," a.k.a. "typewriter," monument to Vittorio Emanuele II in Piazza Venezia, with a nice 'ol barrier explaining to us that "archeological investigations" are taking place for something called METRO C. This would be a third underground line which would serve the historic center which is currently hopelessly underserved by underground. Maybe my grandchildren will be able to take me for a ride. I'm not all that hopeful.

5. A new word for my vocabulary.

Many of you weren't around in the beginning to read my Italglish post. But that's the fun phenomenon of English words or English-sounding words taking on actual meaning in the Italian language. Tracie B. has quite expertly grasped this concept as well. So the new word for my vocabulary, that I learned for the first time the other day, is splatter. As in: SPLAH-ter-uh. As in:

"Have you seen that new movie by Mel Gibson, Apocalypto? I heard it was totally splatter."

"Yeah, I saw it. It wasn't splatter. It was more just trying to show what their lives were really like. Ok, it was kind of splatter. But it was splatter with a point."

Any guesses as to what this might mean? If you guessed "gory" or something approximating graphic scenes of violence, you'd be right. Or, as this Italian Wikipedia entry states, "a type of film genre born out of horror, which produces ultra-realistic violence through special effects, such as spraying blood." Splatter. Gotta love it.

6. Grocery shopping.

Why do I have to bag my own groceries? Why do the cashiers here sit down when in the States they are almost always standing? (A couple of my various jobs to earn money to come back to Italy was as both a grocery store cashier and a bagger for 5 months, so... I'm just a tad jealous.) Why do I have to pay 5 cents per bag? (I've already ranted about this somewhere.) Why do I have to wear plastic gloves when I touch the fruit and why do I have to weigh it myself, trying to remember the number of my fruit or vegetable so I can enter it on the scale? Weird.

There's my six, in no particular order of weirdness and basically as they sprung to mind. Personally I can't be bothered to tag anyone else. But if you want to list your own, by all means! And you can surely steal my modified rules and tag other people. Leave a comment with the hyperlink to your post.

Viva la strana!

That's right folks, it's WORLD NUTELLA DAY!

What, you ask? World NUTELLA Day? What's that?

Well, my friends, it is the inspired brainchild of my lovely expat pal Sara over at Ms. Adventures in Italy, who has kindly enlisted my help in co-hosting this groundbreaking, earth-shattering, nothing less than simply life-changing EVENT.

Who can remember the first time they were allowed to eat chocolate for breakfast?

Nutella is more than just a "chocolaty hazelnut spread," it is a way of life. From childhood memories to oozing hot crepes, from breakfasts on vacation, to free-spooning sessions on the couch, Nutella is present in the memories of many of the children and grown-up children in the world.

And it doesn't have its own holiday.

We're about to change that.

Sara from Ms. Adventures in Italy and Shelley from At Home in Rome solemnly declare February 6th "World Nutella Day" - a day to celebrate, to get creative with, and most importantly, to EAT Nutella.

How to participate:

1. Make a recipe using Nutella. Eat Nutella with a spoon. A big one. Make art with Nutella. Wax poetic about Nutella. Cuddle with Nutella. Re-live your first experience eating Nutella. Offer Nutella as a sacrifice. Tell us your favorite story about those fabled Nutella glasses. Have a Nutella-eating contest or a Nutella party!


2. Take pictures, upload a video, and blog about it from now until February 6th, 2007. Posts on February 6th are strongly encouraged.


3. Email nutelladay [at] nutelladay [dot] com. with Subject: Nutella Day and include your name, your site name, and your permalink/URL by February 6th, 2007. You can also attach one 100x100 pixel photo of your dish-etc. to include in the roundup. We'll be posting the round-up on the 7th of February.


4. In your post please include the Nutella Day participant button below and have it point to this post or to www.nutelladay.com


5. Tag/categorize your post with "Nutella Day."

Don't have a blog? Don't let that stop you!! There are more ways to share!

• Tips: Send us your tips, usage and ways to enjoy Nutella at: tips[at] nutelladay*dot* com and we’ll post them on the Nutella Day site!

• YouTube: Add your Nutella-inspired video to the Nutella Day You Tube station


• Flickr: Add your photos to the Nutella Day Flickr pool

Some resources for Nutella ideas and recipes to get you started:

• Read about its history on Wikipedia, with BBC, or on the Nutella USA site.
In the U.S. find a store near you that sells it with the Store Locator


• Watch a crepe with Nutella being prepared in Paris


• Nutella on Food Network or if you read Italian, check out 1000 recipes on the Nutella Italy site


• Nutella Pancakes from Slashfood


• The Nutella Supreme from Cream Puffs in Venice


• Ogle some serious food porn with The Girl Who Ate Everything's Nutella Crepe


• Self-Frosting Cupcakes with Nutella from Baking Sheet


• Nutella Banana Muffins or Nutella Creme Brulee from Delicious Days


• A torta alla gianduia from Hungry in Hogtown


• Nutella Cookies from Alpine Berry

Do not, I repeat: DO NOT, accept cheap imitations:


"Clever," indeed! Nothing compares to Italy's own Nutella.

Accept only the real deal, even if your supermarket, like mine yesterday, only has it in 30g snack packs with little white plastic thingys you can use to "spread" it (yeah, right, we know it's just for shoveling it directly into your mouth!):

Look, people, if I am brave enough to publish a silly self-portrait posing with a baby Nutella in order to promote this online event, then surely you can join in the fun too...

Now get out there and prepare your World Nutella Day entry!

Guest Blogger: Eugenio, Wine Expert Extraordinaire (Part Two)

Welcome back to my two-part series on my pal Eugenio (read part one here). Thanks for your comments on part one; it's encouraging to see that I'm not the only one who feels a little unsure about where to start when it comes to knowing about wines. So, without further ado:

Q: You often hear experts talking about smelling things like tobacco, or grass, or other smells… how is it possible to distinguish these smells? Do you need to take a course?

A: It’s true. Wine experts have chosen to tell the story of the scents of wine by using examples of scents that are common to everyone. It’s easier and more understandable when you hear someone say they smell “cinnamon” rather than “aldeide cinnamica,” no? That’s where we get the perfume families that describe the scents: floral (acacia, violet…), fruit (berries, tropical fruit), herbal (hay, mushroom, grass), spice (pepper, liquorice, vanilla), toasted (coffee, cocoa, smoked), ethereal (wax, varnish, caramel), etc.
To identify them it’s enough to just remind yourself of common scents and then look for them in the wine.

Q: Why is it important to smell wine?

A: It’s important in order to appreciate the characteristics typical to a wine and its quality. And then let’s think of the role that scent covers in certain animal species. From bees to dogs, and lastly in humans. Scent gives psychological and physical emotions, and it determines choices. Have you ever eaten something that you hated the smell of? I don’t think so…

Q: You were a judge for the International Wine Challenge, and from what I understand, it’s kind of like the Oscars for wine. How did you become a judge? What was the experience like for you?

In June of 2005 I was at Vinexpo in Bordeaux to choose wines for my Italian and Swiss companies. I was stressing out a poor French producer because I was telling her about the defects I had found in her wine. A woman saw this and came up to me, asking me if I was a sommelier and if I was familiar with the IWC, inviting me to stop by their stand to chat.
I stopped by, got to know the organizers and had a nice chat with them. In the months following we exchanged emails, they evaluated my resumè and then they invited me to participate as a judge in the Challenge. I told them that I was available and I was honored by the offer, which would allow me to taste wines alongside the world’s foremost wine experts, learning from the Senior Judges who I had the pleasure of working with in the beautiful Barbican Center in London.

Behind the scenes at the International Wine Challenge 2006, held at London's Barbican Center

The IWC is the most important wine tasting competition in the world: more than 9,300 wines are tasted and evaluated by 150 judges, only three of which were Italian. Let’s not forget that Italy is the biggest producer of wine in the world. To represent Italy alongside my two “made in Italy” colleagues was an honor for me. Working side by side with these “Masters of Wine” was a completely unexpected goal for me, especially considering that I’m “only” 38.

Q: The whole “scene” that happens at the table when they bring you the bottle of wine you ordered can be intimidating for someone who doesn’t know anything about wine. Tell us then, what is one really supposed to do when the bottle arrives? Are you really supposed to smell the cork?

A: I don’t smell the cork but smell the wine to see if it smells of cork. If this is the case, then I ask them to bring out another bottle. If it’s not the case, then I nod to the server and pour myself a nice glass that I enjoy completely relaxed in good company. It’s fantastic exchanging impressions of wine with my friends. A bottle of special wine can be a gift of invaluable emotions, making an evening unforgettable.

Q: What was or what is the biggest satisfaction you gain from your work?

A: To count among my clients: both colleagues and sommelier restaurant owners, many of whom are the biggest Italian and foreign wine experts in their field; associations dedicated to the promotion of the culture of “drinking well;” not to mention also a few indulgent VIPs famous on a global scale. In Italy you know we have a privacy law, otherwise I would name some names…
This is the payback for all the hard work I do on a daily basis in finding important wines with little prices.

Q: One last question, just for fun: in your opinion, what is “the” wine of 2007?

A: Can I have a back-up question, please? It’s like asking a father which of his children he likes the best. And I have lots of children, at least in an enological sense…
Given that, I’ll close my eyes and respond to you in good faith. I’m betting on Ruchè 2006 from Nadia Verrua. It’s coming out in May 2007 and I think it’s going to make people talk a lot about it. And in tasting it, you’ll understand why…

Thanks, Shelley, for the interview! I wish all your readers a wonderful holiday if they are coming to Italy. And don’t forget that the ancient name of Italy was Enotria, or “Country of Wine.” Surely there’s a reason for this name, no? In vino veritas…

Grazie to you, Euge, for the generous information you shared…I had fun picking your brain a bit on a topic that continues to fascinate me. Wishing you all the best in 2007!

If you are interested in contacting Eugenio, you can write to him at: bigliocca AT caveduroi DOT com. Soon he will also be launching a long-awaited website, delayed due to his impossibly heavy workload, at www.caveduroi.com. Keep an eye out for it, and happy wine tasting!

Guest Blogger: Eugenio, Wine Expert Extraordinaire (Part One)

Among my pals here in Italy, I am lucky to count a person who I think has hands-down the coolest and most glamorous job of anyone I know. Eugenio Bigliocca, founder and owner of Cave du Roi, a wine sales and distribution company, is a bona fide international wine expert. And if you think I’m exaggerating because he’s a friend of mine, then I’ll let his resumè speak for itself. Besides the fact that he has been a sommelier certified by the Italian Sommelier’s Association (AIS) since 1994, he is often called on by Slow Food, Italy’s premier foundation for promoting education and appreciation of excellent food and wine, to present and discuss wine; he works with some of Italy’s top up-and-coming “diamond in the rough” wine producers, scouring the Italian countryside personally to discover them and sometimes signing their wines for exclusive distribution; in addition, last year he was asked to become a judge for the International Wine Challenge, a kind of “Oscars” in the international wine community, one of the highest honors that can be bestowed upon someone who works in the field of wine tasting, sales and education.

Since the day I met Eugenio a few years ago, I have been continually impressed by his approach to wine. I’m a total wine amateur—I drink it, but can’t say I know how to properly “appreciate” it. That being said, I’ll admit that I always believed that in order to be a real wine expert, a job pre-requistite was to be a colossal snob. I was not only intimidated by the field of wine appreciation, I was turned off by the idea that you had to have a major superiority complex to be part of this “in” club.

When we first encountered Eugenio after coincidentally sitting next to him at a dinner for a mutual friend, we ended up talking to him literally non-stop for the three hours or so the dinner lasted. I was instantly intrigued and completely enchanted by his down-to-earth approach, and above all his passion for wine, which was tangible and contagious. I took the chance that first evening to ask him lots of “wine for dummies” questions and he never once made me feel ignorant or silly, bringing me instead, even if just for a moment, into that exclusive club I never thought I could join.

For a while when I was contemplating my transition away from my rather overwhelming job as director of a large US university study abroad center, we toyed with the idea of becoming partners in a wine business here in Rome. We talked about opening a wine shop, a wine bar…we let our imaginations run wild. Unfortunately we never took this dream project to fruition; as his business continues to skyrocket and my newborn business of hosting tourists in our apartments picks up the pace slowly but surely, we’ve left our plans aside for the moment. But I can certainly say that if ever there was a perfect person to dream up an incredible business plan with, Euge is the man.

Needless to say, he keeps us in good supply because we get all our wines from him and him alone, including the bottles I leave for my guests in the apartments. It's a little like having a personal wine shopper who knows your tastes and introduces you to amazing wines you weren't aware of, without going broke. So I can definitely admit that in this respect I, and my guests, are quite spoiled!

But enough of my gushing. I’ll let you read for yourself why I think he’s such a rare find in the world of wines. I asked him if he would allow me to “interview” him for my blog, and he was happy to oblige. I’m hoping we’ll all learn a little something new in the process. Grazie, Euge!

Q: How did you start working in the field of wines?

A: Out of passion. When I was five years old I used to help my grandfather bottle wines and… that’s where my mania for “the nectar of Bacchus” started.

Q: What was or what is the biggest obstacle you’ve had to/have to overcome in your work?

A: The incompetence that reigns sovereign over many “experts in the field.” I’m referring to those restaurants and barmen who chose a wine based only on its notoriety or price.

Q: What’s your philosophy on wine? By that I mean: how do you work, who are the producers you work with, what sets you apart from others in your field?

A: I personally choose wines made by “small producers,” almost always unknown to the media. I deal with denominations (denominazioni) of notable origin, made by excellent producers who are often still complete “unknowns.” I love working with someone who makes 30,000 bottles of a quality wine that dreams are made of, rather than 1,000,000 bottles of medium-level quality.

With respect to my competitors, I differentiate myself because by choice, I don’t sell famous brands, but rather “niche” wines. I’ve chosen the path of non-devotion to the celebrated super-famous wines, which are hardly ever truly extraordinary, unless you’re talking about their price.

I try to discover enological jewels and to tell their story to true wine lovers, meaning those who don’t buy wine with a guide in their hand, but who are gifted with critical capability and feeling. And those who trust my judgement, obviously! I like to surprise my clients and ignite their curiosity with my definition of what constitutes a good new wine. My competetive advantage is often better quality at a lower price.

Q: For someone who doesn’t know anything about wine, but would like to start somewhere, what’s your advice?

A: I suggest they sign up for a course held by a qualified professional, for example in Italy I’m referring to something like a course with the Italian Sommelier’s Association or ONAV (National Organization of Wine Tasters). I think it’s impractical to try to teach yourself. I think in this field it’s essential to start off on the right foot.

Q: In your opinion, how can someone tell a “good wine” without being an expert? What are the characteristics that a person should look for?

A: Above all, I would look for an absence of defects. That means I would try to understand if the wine smells excessively like sulfur dioxide. Do you smell a “stink” of burnt rubber or sulfur? Or if it smells excessively like vinegar. Or if it has really strong notes of wood with hints of vanilla. In this last case we’re in the presence of a misuse of the barriques. In the mouth we’re trying to taste if there’s excessive acidity or if it’s well-blended with the alcohols. A wine-tasting course is useful because it teaches you in just a few hours of lessons how to recognize the values and defects of a wine.

Q: Lots of people think a good wine has to be expensive. Is this true, or is it a false myth?

A: False. In a market economy, a wine’s price is determined exclusively by supply and demand. There are incredible wines that cost little only because they aren’t yet in high demand. And these are the wines that I devote my attention to. That being said, I can maintain that I’ve never drunk an expensive wine (by that I mean more than €50 a bottle) of truly low quality, but medium quality, yes.

Q: What then in your opinion is a reasonable price for a “good” wine, or maybe it’s impossible to say because it always depends on something?

A: Often the price is connected directly to the denomination (DOC) of the wine or the region where it was produced. It’s hard to generalize. I would say that in an enoteca (wine shop) I’m willing to spend €12 for vintage wines and €25 for reserve wines, at least as a jumping-off point.

Here's Eugenio and his lovely girlfriend Mariana with Ale and I on the right (like how my shirt matches the tablecloth and curtains?? I totally planned that, you know) during a once-in-a-lifetime vacation we took last summer to St. Petersburg, Russia. He's a total giveaway: look how he's holding the glass, next to us amateurs! Even though he's holding the glass, he was actually the only one who wouldn't brave trying the "chacha," a gut-burningly strong traditional after-dinner drink (or perhaps anytime drink, for that matter) from the country of Georgia. I remember him saying, "You guys are out of your minds! If I don't see the bottle and I don't know where it comes from, there's no way I'm drinking it. You don't understand how risky that can be!" See what happens when your profession causes you to "know too much"? You miss all the fun! ;-) That is, if you consider swigging the taste equivalent of gasoline and rubbing alcohol "fun." Well, like they say, when in St. Petersburg...

The interview continues in my next post, where we talk about what the heck it means when someone says they “smell tobacco” or “smell grass” in wine, and what you’re really supposed to do when they bring that bottle of wine to the table for you to taste. Stay tuned!

Waiter for a Day

I have so much good stuff backing up in the post pipeline that I think I'll take the day off to sort it all out. I haven't even shared my colossal dinner in Pescasseroli with you, and that alone will take a while, sorting out all the photos of each dish! Get your appetites ready.

Meanwhile, how's this for efficiency? Here's the only restaurant in Rome where I've seen something like this. It's called Pizzeria San Marino and is a bit out of the way from the center--if you know Rome at all, it's over in the Corso Trieste area off of Piazza Istria (north Rome). When you arrive, you find this list with a pen on your green checkered tablecloth:

That's right, folks. DIY ordering. Just browse the list, put the number you want of each item next to it, and when your waiter comes by you hand him the list.

Just make sure everyone at your table is in agreement. Ale went first and put "4" next to supplì (pronounced "soo-PLEE", a fried rice ball filled with mozzarella...worthy of its own post) and there were four of us, without even asking if anyone else wanted one. So as the list made its way around the table, there was a lot of: "FOUR supplì? I don't want a supplì, I want a bruschetta!" I guess he figures that a supplì is a necessary part of any healthy pizza-balanced diet, and in Rome, I guess he would be right!

Pizzeria San Marino
Via S. Marino 52
Tel. 06 85 58 439
(Closed Sundays)

You've Got (Blessed) Mail

As many of you already know, I’m getting married here in Rome in late March. That means, among many other things, wedding invitations to send. Even though I already pretty much know who is coming from the States because by now almost all the people who can manage to make it have already bought their tickets, still, wedding invitations have to be sent out to everyone – can’t skip tradition.

I made my own invites using an image of an engraving of our church from the 1700s. (Curious which of the bazillion churches in Rome it is? See if you can guess by looking at this.) Since I put so much time into them, I wasn’t about to trust them to the dreaded Poste Italiane, the Italian mail system. Granted, most people in Italy have no other choice. But blessed are those who live in Rome, because they can go to Poste Vaticane.

That’s right, Vatican Mail. Oh, how I heart them. So friendly, so efficient, so…. so not Poste Italiane. Let’s not even get into that today. Suffice it to say that I finally gave up on them when a package arrived from my mom with a small box of Godiva chocolates. Lovely, no? Not so much when you find one, just one, eaten, leaving of course the other three to enjoy. As if. Per favore! (Yes, I am convinced it happened on this side of the ocean, and no, I don’t need proof. I am shamelessly prejudiced against the Italian postal system.)

No, no, Vatican mail is blessed by the hand of God, indeed. In my experience, the price is pretty much the same as Italian mail; what makes the difference is that Vatican mail is all sent directly to Switzerland for distribution to the rest of the world. The tiny Vatican post office next to St. Peter’s is a tourist hub and melting pot of world cultures, all passing through to mail their postcards from the smallest country in the world (.2 square miles).

I had 40 invites to mail. When I got to the window (no line, by the way!) and explained this, the man working the window next to me saw my envelopes and said, “Who’s getting married?” (What is this now? Friendly banter at the post office? From a postal employee?)

“That would be me,” I say. “After six years in Rome, I guess it was about time.”

“Marrying an Italian?”

“Romano di Roma,” I say, a phrase to indicate a “Roman from Rome.” “Trasteverino.” Ale was born in Trastevere and Romans generally agree that being from Trastevere is about as Rome as one can get. Trasteverini take a lot of pride in being from the neighborhood, especially since nowadays there are so few left who actually still live there, as it has become affordable pretty much only for rich foreigners or people who have lived in the neighborhood for generations and passed down property.

“Well, well, then! Auguri e tanti figli maschi!” He sends me “best wishes and many male children.”

“Well, children in general would be fine by me,” I say.

“You know what happened to me when people told me ‘tanti figli maschi’?" he asks. "I have three sons! So I wish you tanti figli maschi, just so long as they aren't Romanisti.”

Romanisti are fans of the Roma soccer team, one of Rome’s two rival teams. When someone asks which team you are a tifoso (fan) for, it's a pretty critical moment here in Rome. Luckily Ale is a diehard fan of Lazio, the opposing team.

“Oh, no worries there. We’re a strictly Laziale household.”

You should have seen the sheer delight on his face. It’s funny when you find Lazio fans, they get so excited to know you’re on “their side” against the evil forces of Roma.

“Well then, I wish you tre figli e tre figlie!” (three sons and three daughters).

I guess being a fan of his team bought me some bonus offspring.

“That way we can bring them all to the stadio together, right?” I reply.

Delightful, am I still in the post office? I ask the man at my window if he has any nice stamps by chance, since I don’t want my wedding invites stamped by a machine.

“Just for you, since you’re marrying a Romano, Trasteverino, here’s what I’m going to do…”

He manages to find three beautiful stamps that equal the exact amount I have to pay per envelope. (Did you know that it's possible to go to an Italian post office to buy stamps and be told they don't have any??) There’s a large table where I can sit down, with a damp sponge I can use for putting the stamps on the envelopes. As I spread all my stuff out and get to work, I feel like I’ve died and gone to postal heaven. I realize this may sound ridiculous, but perhaps you have to have some experience with the Italian postal system under your belt to truly appreciate this.

Just under 40 envelopes and nearly 120 stamps later, I’m on my way, and so are my invitations. Buon viaggio!

An automated stamp machine outside the post office for when it's closed. I've never seen an automated Poste Italiane stamp machine...have you? Hmm, must be too convenient.

Inside the post office, with a big table and chairs for tourists to write their postcards. On the left is the numismatic shop, where you can buy commemorative stamps, postcards and coins. (Can you spot the picture of the pope?)

The post office is located directly to the left of St. Peter's Basilica. There are two yellow mailboxes out front. Mail must be sent from here. You can't buy stamps here and then mail things from an Italian mailbox, just as you can't mail anything from here with Italian stamps.

Hey, turn around, I think I see something behind you...