Rome was...delicious.
I had always thought that the hype about real Italian food was just that: hype. But it really is worth every last penne. Elizabeth Gilbert had the right idea – to “Eat” here for four months would be Heaven. The only difference being, angels don’t get fat.
I had always thought that the hype about real Italian food was just that: hype. But it really is worth every last penne. Elizabeth Gilbert had the right idea – to “Eat” here for four months would be Heaven. The only difference being, angels don’t get fat.
One of the downsides to travelling alone was that I often avoided sitting down at restaurants for proper meals. And while little eateries and street vendors are great for a bite (or three), a glass of wine and a napkin across the knees gives you a whole different taste of the local cuisine. So, it was lucky that I had some company in this gastronomic paradise.
My friend and I soon discovered that the secret to a good meal in Rome lies not in the busy, commercialised city centre, but in Trastevere. This little suburb across the river is an intimate network of narrow streets lined with bustling local restaurants. And best of all, almost completely devoid of tourists. I always say that you know you’ve come to the right place to eat if you can’t understand a word that’s being said around you. And so, it was in places like this that I cut through glorious layers of fresh lasagne, twirled my fork through handmade tagliatelle, indulged in slice after slice of greasy-but-oh-so-perfecto pizza, sipped through glasses of house wine, and savoured every last spoonful of raspberry-topped panna cotta... And don’t forget the hourly gelato fix. Your ice-cream experience isn’t complete until you have tried their melon and pistachio flavours.
To top it all off (because I haven’t had to buy new jeans yet), I tasted the best tiramisu I have ever had. It being my favourite dessert, I have tried quite a few, but this one... Wow. As the moist scotch finger melts onto your tongue, the coffee and alcohol cut through first, strong and aromatic. Then almost immediately, the creamy layer oozes forward, smoothing the harsher tones and coating your mouth in a layer of rich velvet...
It really was quite an experience.
You may be surprised, dear reader, but I actually managed to fit in quite a bit of sight-seeing in between all this eating! Though I won’t go into much detail about the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Trevi Fountain or the Spanish Steps. I did enjoy them a great deal, like the millions of other tourists that week, but I’m sure Google will be much better at informing you of their historical significance than I!
We spent quite a while in the Vatican City admiring the pope’s impressive language skills in person and taking photos in the Sistine Chapel. Yup, that's right, I took photos despite being forbidden to do so in six different languages before entering. If it had been for religious reasons, I would have put my camera away without a second thought, but for a Japanese company that wanted copyright protection for financing the restoration of the paintings? Ha, keep dreaming. If Michelangelo and the Pope don’t mind, I’m going to take home my own memory of this beautiful place guilt-free.
We also visited the gorgeous riverside night markets. As the normal dinner time for Southern Europeans seems to be around 10pm, it wasn’t unusual to find locals here enjoying a beer or a puff of Shisha at midnight. We passed on the smoking, but after a nice drink, we went exploring from stall to colourful stall.
My favourite find? Singing bowls. Well, my friend’s find, actually. Without him, I would have walked straight past them. But channelling his inner Tibetan monk (being a Caucasian American, naturally), he grabbed my hand, put one of the beautifully engraved bowls onto my flattened palm, and began to run the wand (a clave-like stick) around the rim in slow steady circles. And a few minutes later, to my delight, the bowl began to vibrate and, well, sing! It was such a stunningly pure sound.
The vibrations are said to have medicinal effects and the sound is used to alleviate stress. They are apparently also very popular in classrooms for encouraging group work and student concentration. Though I am having a little trouble imagining my old high school class adopting the practice... Somehow, big, gruff, footy-kicking boys and singing bowl-meditation don’t seem to fit too well together. Or maybe, that’s just the problem...
