Jetlag caught up to all of us, and we woke up at 11am. We wanted coffee.
Natalia had shown us how the Italians made their espresso at home. Either the
Italians copied our south Indian filter coffee or we copied their espresso
method. Everything is the same, down to the utensils used, and slow. So we
head out for breakfast, to do the European thing- Chill out, have a cappuccino and
watch the birds.
Romans do not like the morning sun. The only humans on the street were
tourists like us. I heard one american ask another, “Why is this place
deserted? Is it a holiday?” When you party hard all night, you don’t want to
wake up before lunch. We found a café bar and ordered cappuccino. What we got
was tepid coffee. Kala’s face puckered up, obviously disappointed. “What the
hell is this?”
A little background here would help.
A few years ago, we visited Spain with
friends and just about had a near-disastrous trip. I wrote about it (see
earlier blogs about Seville). The one thing we remember fondly about that trip
was the perfect cappuccinos we got everyday; 3-4 every day. Despite the talent-challenged football team Italy has, we figured the
cappuccinos would be similar in both countries. Boy where we mistaken. I tried my pidgin italian;
Calda, CALDA, CALDA. The waiter nodded and brought me the same damn drink every
time. And you see folks sitting around with the same cup of joe for hours on
end. I wanted to tell them the milk in that cappuccino is probably curdled
after sitting around in the open for so long. We were out walking quickly thereafter to run some errands.
Natalia had told us about the farmer’s market close to the apartment, and we
needed to buy some supplies, and a TIM card for the phone.There was this malayali aunty working in the store. She made the same
mistake everyone makes who meet Kala the first time; she asked if Kala was
malayali. She smiled and said no. Anju of course smiled and giggled at the lady
and she was eager to help. The store carried curry powder and pickles, and
ghee! We bought ghee for the kids. Yes we had a fully functional kitchen and we
used it too.
Farmer’s market was nice too. Awesome tomatoes. Juicy, ready to burst open at touch. A Bangladeshi worker there asked if we were
from Chennai. When we said yes, he being a big Calcutta Knight riders fan said,
“Shah Rukh Khan superstar. Calcutta Knightrider best cricket team. Chennai
superkings lost haha.” It was weird to talk cricket with a Bangladeshi in Rome!
We took it easy after all the shopping and returned home. While the kids
slept, I went out for a run, up the hill to Gianocolese park. As it always
happens, I got lost very close to the Spanish embassy, and a soldier in a
parked Humvee helped me set me on the right track despite the language barrier.
Fantastic run through the park, with trees to my left and spectacular views of
the city of Rome to my right. Ran 3 miles and picked out a route to bring the
Kala and the kids later in the day.
Couple of hours later, we were on top of the hill, had a gelato We lounged
about lazily soaking in the sun and the sights. There was a carousel in the
park which got the girls happy. A bored-out-of-her-mind teenager with a Led
Zeppelin T-shirt sat at the counter and gave out tokens for the rides. Felt bad
for her; probably wanted to be out chilling with her friends than work at her
family-run carousel.
Something funny happened on the way down. We stopped by a local vegetable
market on the way back. It was run by a Bangladeshi family. Their 5-year old
son took one look at Maya and said “Aeei!” And did a Salman Khan move saying,
“Dinchaak Dinchaak Dinchaak”, trying to wriggle his hips! He must have seen it
in a movie. Maya gave him the same withering “What the hell are you doing?”
look that her mother usually gives her, and walked on to look at the bananas.
The boy did not know what to do next and went back to sucking his thumb
standing behind his mom! Priceless.
Dinner was at dar Poeta; Trastavere’s best pizzeria. Same pizza
experience here too; pre-bite Madness, magic, post-bite madness. Now we were quickly
getting used to being KOed by the food, and using red wine to temper the
impact. Here is where I say; Not the pizza from last night, but THIS pizza was
the best!! At this rate, one could scrounge around the dumpsters in the back
alleys of Rome, and come up with better-tasting pizzas than Pizza Hut’s “stuff”.
Pizza Hut and Dominos have conned the world; that I am sure of.
