No wonder Italy is food-obsessed…

…when every conversation seems to end with a call for chow!

And who is this Harry Vederchi that everyone seems to think I am?

The path from the Villa Borghese to the restaurant where we had a dinner reservation took us through an archway in the wall that, at one time, marked the boundary between “in Rome” and “outside Rome”. Not surprisingly, considering the country’s (and its capital’s) history of being invaded and sacked, we’re talking about a lot more than a simple picket fence here.

On the left is the Villa Borghese’s garden entrance and, on the right, the massive wall that once circled the entire city of Rome. You might recall in one my earlier updates, when I talked about where the catacombs are located, I referred to just about any place outside the walls of old Rome as a likely roof for one subterranean burial chamber or another. Unlike modern cities, Romans were forbidden from burying their dead inside the walls. The practice of burying the entire body was also something the Christians, beginning in about the 2ndC A.D. brought to Rome along with their attendant belief of an eventual resurrection. Without going into a lot of detail, previously the almost universal custom among the largely pagan population of the city had been for cremation, so embalming, to put it delicately, was not something done really well at the time. So – outside the wall with Grandpa, please and thank you.

Not too far inside the wall, we found one of Rome’s most popular bars among those who long for the good old “Mad Men” days of three-martini lunches – Harry’s on the Via Veneto, home of fine cocktails, excellent bar snacks and a long attraction among the hoi polloi, many of whose photos grace the walls both inside and out. (One big reason could be the presence – almost directly across the street – of the US Embassy, but that might cause one to make rather *ahem* inappropriate conclusions about the lunching and dining habits of the American diplomatic corps and the soaring word-of-mouth popularity as more and more friends of those same diplomats came to the city for a visit.)

For the record, Leslie and I can vouch from firsthand experience that they make a fantastic Planter’s Punch and margarita – and their bottled Guinness is damned fine, too!

Our dinner that night was a place not too far from Harry’s – thankfully, because their cocktails also contain a generous amount of whatever liquor forms their base with all the resulting impact on a person’s co-ordination. This particular restaurant had been recommended to us as an experience in “comfort food”. It was; Les had a schnitzel cordon bleu and I had a beef that had been braised all day in a rich wine sauce and, as a result, was so tender it could easily have been cut with a dull spoon. We shared a bottle of red wine and if you haven’t yet savoured a bottle based on the Sangiovese grape, I highly recommend it. All the “heavy red” adjectives apply – robust, full-bodied, “plummy”, etc – and with winter getting closer it is absolutely perfect in close proximity to a crackling hearth.

The next day, Leslie was conferencing for the early part of the day and I opted to update my notes upon which this book-length trip diary has been based. Surprisingly, she returned earlier than I expected and she has given me permission to share why.

Apparently, organizers of an academic library-based conference in Rome are pretty much resigned to the fact that the vast majority of people are likely there because it is in Rome, and not because of the quality of the scheduled papers because they were all over the map in terms of both academic content and quality of presentation.

In like manner there was, she said, precious little attention given to posting onsite signs steering delegates to whatever room they needed to be in for the seminar topic of their choice. The coffee break and lunch, she added, were simply laughable. Held in the university cafeteria, coffee was served by one hopelessly overworked behind-the-counter employee who was shoveling the little Euro-sized cups across the counter as fast as she could, but nowhere near fast enough to make the process smooth for the couple hundred people waiting for a cup.

She (Leslie) also said that it was easy to tell who the American and Canadian delegates were – the people looking at the minuscule cups they were handed as if it were a sample for their approval before they received the mugs of joe they clearly expected.

Lunch, she said, was no better and apparently consisted of the same cafeteria food as was flung across the counter at the students, with whom the delegates had to share the cafeteria at the same time, quickly filling the limited number of seats to capacity and leaving a lot of people wandering off to find a place somewhere else.

So since Leslie returned with that tale in the very early afternoon, having abandoned the conference entirely for the day, we decided on yet another walkabout, this time to an amazing ongoing classical Roman excavation on a huge hilltop beside the Colosseum called the Palatino (the Palatine Hill).

Getting into the Palatino site required separating our wallets from 14 Euros each, but it proved to be eminently worth it.

A brief bit of background: The Palatino overlooks – and forms a part of – one of the most ancient sections of Rome. In fact, local mythology holds that the hill is the site of the “Lupercal”, the cave where Rome’s twin founders, Romulus and Remus, were supposedly discovered by the she-wolf who nursed them and kept them alive. Leaving the mythology aside, apparently some recent excavations have been discovered that date to 1,000 B.C.

Related to the classical period, the hill has been home to some pretty famous Romans, including Augustus – the city’s first emperor, Tiberius and Vespasian.

Most famously, the Emperor Nero, whose extravagances re-defined “obscene”, set about constructing for himself a “Domus Aurea” (Golden Palace) after Rome’s great fire in 64 A.D. wiped out several of the elaborate homes and estates of many of Rome’s wealthy living on the Palatino’s slopes. Variously estimated to cover between 100 and 300 acres of central Rome, much of the Domus Aurea remains to be excavated. Sadly, Nero never really got to enjoy his wretched excess for very long; he committed suicide in 68 A.D.

To stroll the Palatino today is to wander among grounds that two millennia ago were barred to all but the most stratospheric of the upper echelons of Roman society.

Here are a few photos taken among the ruins to be found on that large chunk of central Roman real estate:

Even on a blindingly sunny hot day, the Palatino is a wonderful place to wander because its archaeology is interspersed with some magnificent Mediterranean pines that cast large patches of shade, many of them dotted with benches and even public water fountains.

Leslie and I disagreed on whether the random placement of contemporary art pieces among the classical structures enhanced or detracted from the site – as was the case with the modern gleaming marble installation here in the midst of a massive courtyard. (She favoured “enhance” while I was of the opinion that the modern art belonged in a setting elsewhere. Probably makes me a Philistine.) Ironically, the signs accompanying the modern pieces were much more informative than were the signs telling us just what exactly were the 2,000+ year-old structures surrounding them.

Rome was built to last and one result is that there are few restrictions among monumental sites like the Palatino that bar visitors. Besides the wide-open ground level here, notice the people on the upper level in the centre background (which actually is exactly where I was when I took the previous photo that includes the modern art.)

OK… so sometimes a modern placement graces its ancient setting. One of these photos is Leslie channelling Sophia and the other is Sophia herself captured in 1981 by the late Ottawa master photographer Yousuf Karsh. Can you tell which is which? (“Real” Sophia photo source: http://pleasurephoto.wordpress.com )

Two more dining experiences to report before we say goodbye to Italy 2013. On one of my wander-about days while Leslie was conferencing, I found an amazing pub called l’Antica Birreria Peroni and, as it turns out, it’s the kind of place native Romans go for lunch.

As its name suggests, it’s an old-fashioned pub tied to the Peroni brewery and let me tell you that you will find few drinks more refreshing on a scorching Roman mid-day than an ice-cold pint of one of Italy’s signature beers. The day we toured the Palatino, since we were in the neighbourhood (if you get to the Wedding Cake, you’re a five minute walk away from 19 Via San Marcello, the pub’s address) I suggested it to Leslie – and since we were both ready for a chill break, it was an easy sell.

The pub is built on the site of a former shrine where, the story goes, in 1669 an image of the Virgin Mary being displayed on a nearby wall moved her eyes. (Not to be sacrilegious or anything, but a few pints of Peroni bashed down as thirst-quenchers on a hot Italian afternoon will definitely seem to trigger movement of the walls themselves, never mind any images that might be plastered on them!)

Food is affordable, basic comfort food – Leslie had a perfectly grilled breast of chicken with fries while I opted for a knackwurst with fries and sauerkraut. (Fodor’s, I discovered, calls it the home of the best hot dog in Rome.) Meanwhile at the table right beside us, an older local woman was happily picking apart an entire fish. The whole time we were there, it was just bustling with both the fashionably business-dressed and the blue-collar trades who brushed plaster dust off their shirts before they came in.

Memo to self: Next time, get Leslie to take the mandatory we-were-there photo BEFORE we go into a wonderful pub like the l’Antica Birreria Peroni, rather than at the doorway after a couple pints of beer have been tucked away. (Actually, truth to tell, it was her first experience with my new camera and she admitted she might have flubbed the focus… That’s her story and she’s sticking to it.)

After a leisurely walk back once more past the Forum, the Circus Maximus and the Colosseum, we returned to the hotel for a late afternoon siesta before walking a few blocks to another place that turned into a completely memorable dinner: the Romeo e Agata. We decided that since this was our last dinner in Italy we were going to do it traditionally, with something from both their Primi Piatti and Secundi Piatti and a Dolce to wrap up. For the first course, Leslie has an exquisite pea soup garnished with cuttlefish ink (which tasted waaay better than its description might suggest) while I had one of their signature dishes, a spaghetti with a pecorino (sheep’s milk) cheese sauce that re-defined “rich” under a generous grating of black pepper (actually called “Agata’s style" on the menu).

Leslie’s main was a cluster of lamb chops that she pronounced “perfect” while I opted once more for sea bass. I like sea bass a lot, but it is something I have tried unsuccessfully more than once to cook myself (including a disastrous grilling experience that saw large chunks simply flake away between the grates). So far I have failed utterly to do it even close to how well an Italian chef can prepare it, but I have discovered that a carefully monitored pan-fry in olive oil does produce a nice preparation.

We also scored bonus points with the waiter by asking for one of two Falanghinas on their wine list. As I mentioned in my earlier update that described our Mustilli winery tasting and tour, Falanghina is a southern Italian heritage grape recently being re-introduced to oenophiles (Cross two triple word-scores in Scrabble with that one and your opponent will abandon the game in tears!) and simply knowing of its existence seems to mark you as a serious wine lover. (See “Mike’s Guide to Faking Wine Connoisseury”, coming soon!)

Thinking the more expensive was probably the better, I was rather pleasantly surprised when, for the first time in my life in a restaurant, I was talked into a cheaper bottle; the waiter told us that Falanghina actually has far more character in its youth than when aged. So he suggested we try a more recent, less expensive 2010 instead of the 2008 we had originally requested and it was fantastic.

The trip home was marred only by a delay in getting off the runway. While waiting in the departure lounge, I was watching a TV news channel and saw that apparently an “emergency landing” had closed one of Rome’s runways. Given airport spokespersons’ penchant for euphemism, it was only after we returned home that we discovered one of the many Baltic airlines had experienced what pilots call a “hard landing” – essentially hitting the runway so firmly that the landing gear collapses. No injuries; no fire, thankfully, but no doubt a hell of a bump for the passengers and a mammoth exercise in getting the aircraft jacked up sufficiently that temporary wheeled locomotion could be slid into place underneath to get it off the runway.

Meanwhile, this was our view when we finally swung into position for our take-off roll on the one serviceable runway – a line-up behind us in which we had already spent 45 minutes waiting for our turn as aircraft not only took off, but a couple dozen landed farther and farther behind schedule as the day went on.

= =

Coda… In 1955, an otherwise little-known movie entitled “The Seven Hills of Rome” featured this musical interlude written by Renato Rascel and sung by Mario Lanza. It was an instant hit – especially when it was given an English lyric as well as the original Italian. (Well, as “instant” as anything could be in the pre-You Tube days of building an audience through repeated airplay.)

During the 1960 Olympic Summer Games in Rome, the Coca Cola company in Italy gave a vinyl souvenir recording of the song to the competing athletes and Olympic officials. It has since been recorded by singers as diverse as Dean Martin, Perry Como, Nat King Cole, The Ames Brothers, Connie Francis and, of course, countless Italian singers in addition to Mario. By way of farewell, here is as good a version as any that I’m including here for the obvious reason that it is illustrated postcard-style with some of the places we saw on this trip and our visit last Fall, (and a few we’ll save for next time). Play us out, Renato! (Coke record label photo source: coca-colaconversations.com)

Next time: just some of the many tastes of Italy.