Roma- Day zero

I will tell you of incidents, little stories, of people we met in Italy. I am no food writer, but will try to talk to the magnificence of the food we ate. 

Roma:

Anjali just about lost it in the airport after all that travel and no place to walk. There were just too many people to let her walk around. We had to calm her down and then head out into the heat.

The apartment folks in Rome had sent us a cab. Alessandro, the cabbie, waited for us for an hour with a sign “GANESH” that caught our eyes right away, amidst all the Gandolfinis, Berninis and Mancinos. We lost no time in getting the cabbie to chat. He loved to show off his English. 2 sons; one not so good in studies and helps drive cabs with the father, the other very good and works in a IT job in Roma and has moved in with his girlfriend. Mother is very happy that children are close by, and likes the girl (father also happy). The family detests Berlusconi (the very corrupt, philandering, misogynistic and very racist ex-PM of Italy who was eased out one too many years too late), and is sure economy will recover after a couple of years of austerity. I had no heart to tell him it would take a bit longer than that. 

The half hour trip to Trastevere took us past some really old and rich neighborhoods and Gianicolo park. When asked who lived in the old villas, he said “A loth of reech peepulleh”, and gave a throaty laugh. Our apartment was in a middle-class segment of the area, on a cobbled street and with barely enough room for a car to squeeze by. By the time we got out, took the baggage out and paid him, there were 4 cars honking behind him. “Aaah Italy”, here we come. We looked forward to 10 days of fun. 

The lady who managed the apartment, Natalia, waited for us at the apartment. She was super nice with the kids. Anjali took off as soon as I set her on the floor, literally took off poof!! Kala had to run behind her to make sure she did not put anything in her mouth. Natalia was a Romanian (from Romania) student studying music in Rome. She worked part time in a café bar nearby and helped run the apartment for the non-English speaking owner of the house. In fact we met a lot of immigrants like that. The English-speaking immigrant face of all-Italian establishments. Natalia gave us a map and talked about all the best eateries nearby and ways to use mass transit in Rome. I was glad I listened, because each one was awesome! The girls were on cloud nine, exploring the house: look Appa I am jumping on the bed, why do they have 2 potties in the bathroom (one was a bedet), they have a crib for Anju, but can I use it Appa, can I have some of the candy… it was going on and on. 

After settling in, we walked about the neighborhood of Trastevere. Cobbled streets, old buildings, mopeds parked at odd angles, clothes drying high above, between buildings. There were cafes at every corner, and everyone sitting at the tables outside smoked. Wearing sunglasses and people-watching and smoking over a glass of wine or Cappuccino was a European thing to do. 

Dinner was at Il-Duca. We  made the classic rookie mistake of ordering too much; ravioli, pizza, dessert and a carafe of wine! The restaurant reportedly has the last of wood-fired pizza ovens in the neighborhood and is known for the pizzas, which only sets the expectations even higher. When we ate the pizza, we fainted. 

What happens when you faint? Your eyes are closed, the world spins around you, you lose consciousness, and settle into your own world that your mind concocts. That’s pretty much what happened with that first bite of the pizza. I have been thinking about why the pizza tasted so good. It’s not just the cheese in the pizza, it’s the tomatoes, it’s the sauce, and how you have to eat it. The slices are large, so you fold it over like a handkerchief and I know it sounds uncouth. Not having tasted the pizza in the homeland of pizzas at all, your mind goes crazy with expectation. Your tongue touches the rough crust and it surprises you. You get past it. The teeth tear into the pie crust and your tongue is inundated with juices from the melting Mozzarella, the bleeding fresh-baked tomatoes and the sauce. The taste explosion just about causes you to lose sensation for a second. To understand it on an intellectual level, I had to close my eyes…taking in the fleeting image of Anjali reaching for the wine glass and thinking I will get to that problem in a second. That was the first time I had a momentary loss of reason due to food. That first bite convinced me that it was pizza made for the gods. Have you seen those movies where there is a fight, where the moves are fast until the fist meets the face at which point things go slow and you see the impact of the punch in slow motion? After the punch has landed, it goes back to the fast mode again. That is exactly how dinner went. Everything pre-bite was blurry; ordering the food, keeping track of a wily Anjali and curious Maya, taking a sip of wine, running after Anjali. Then that first bite lasted an eternity. Post-bite things went back to blurry; I caught Anju within inches of the glass, then ran after her, Maya nodded off, so did Anju, then things petered off toward dessert.

 We spent almost 2 hours at Il Duca and practically stumbled out, clutching our bellies. We swore we will never overeat again. To walk it off would require us to walk to north pole, so we settled for walking next door to Piazza Santa Maria to watch a few musicians play. The kids were up by then and thoroughly enjoyed the music. We lounged around and were home by 10pm. The neighborhood was just getting crowded! This is a town that parties hard.

We crashed like we had just run a marathon! Good times lay ahead.