A Roman Penny Walk

When my son was little we used to go on what we called "penny walks." We'd walk until an intersection, flip a penny, and turn right for heads or left for tails. Sometimes we took the car and went on penny rides. We always had a great time discovering new places--never knowing where we'd end up or what we'd find. [It was also really cheap entertainment.]

Today John and I did a Roman adventure version of a penny walk. We hopped onto the metropolitan (aka "the metro", Rome's underground subway) at the Piazza de Spagna and rode until we reached a stop we'd never heard of--the Valle Aurelia. This stop is to the far west of Roma centro. In fact, it's literally off the map, so don't go looking for it. We got off at the Valle Aurelia stop and found ourselves in a neighborhood that was somewhat reminiscent of the Central West End in the STL. Part business, part residential, eclectic restaurants, wide streets, and plenty of great people watching.

We stopped for pranza (lunch) at a little place with a long take-out order bar filled with freshly-made sandwiches, cheeses, salads, and five or six tavoli (tables). The signora bella behind the counter invited us to take a seat and her husband came to take our order. Being Americans, and unfortunately acting like we were still in les Stati Uniti, we asked him for a menu. "What do you want?" he asked. "Pasta," I safely replied. "Ah! Macaroni con vodka e pomodore?" Followed by the universal shrug. "Si." I shrugged back. Giovanni added una salata and asked for due piatti (two plates) so we could share.

Our pranza was delivered by the owner, who is also the father of the signora bella and father-in-law of the waiter. He was really excited we chose his little ristorante. It's funny because the Italians love to practice their English, and we Americani love to practice our Italian. So the conversation went something like this:

Angelo: "So, where from in America?"

J&K: "Sono di St. Louis."

Angelo: "In Louisiana, correct?"

J&K: "No, en Missouri, vicino al Chicago."

Angelo: "Oh Chicago! It's cold, right?"

J&K: "Si, freddo in inverno."

Katerina e Angelo

Angelo: "Do you like your lunch? I make just for you."

J&K: "Delizioso."

And so it went. We ended up seeing pictures of Angelo's grandbaby, hearing about how this family-run business was his dream, talking about futbol, and getting an invitation back anytime to his ristorante. We exchanged email addresses, took photos, and Angelo kissed my hand. It's really not so difficult to communicate with people--even if you don't share each other's native language.

Now, in light of Mr. C's calling me out for my innocent observation of the incredibly beautiful Italian men...I'd like to share a little random eye candy with you--especially you Tammy Phelps! 

Katerina



Wednesday morning broke beautifully.  Tried a new place to buy K's coffee (she likes the first cuppa in bed and I deliver).  Not as good as Romo's Elen Bar (our main hangout) so Romo keeps the first cup of the day franchise.  Then Kathryn goes to Italian class from 11-1.  I hangout at the Elen Bar with great wireless and priceless views.  Work a bit; email; watch the ladies walk on bad surfaces with tight outfits and 4 inch heels; giggle at the tourists with their maps and confused looks.   As my mom used to say "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."

After class we gather our maps and put on our confused looks for the ride to "somewhere for lunch" chronicled above.

Upon our return we bravely decide to get off at a different metro stop from the one we had left from.  Leaving the station we had two choices for our exit (uscita).  50-50, what are the chances we took the wrong choice.  100%.

We wound up on Via Veneto, a lovely, high end street with shops and restaurants way out of our price range.  Now we know where the high rollers stay when in Rome.  We continued to walk in the wrong direction for quite a while.  Eventually breaking down and asking for help.  We wound up on a long walk in an underground tunnel under the Borghese gardens and eventually wound up at our original metro stop.  We know how to get home from here!

I had a conference call with a customer, Kathryn took a nap and then we headed out for a dinner.  K had the best pasta fagiola and I took the waiter's recommendation for a truly Roman pasta dish over my comfort zone choices.  It was a long thick noodle simply dressed with olive oil, paremsan and ground pepper.  Wouldn't sell on the Hill because it is too simple.

Watched remake of Psycho in English, which wasn't as good as the original Hitchcock version we watched Tuesday night.  Why remake a classic?

Slept like a bambino.

Giovanni