Leaving Roma

This is intended to be a juxtaposition of how we feel about leaving Roma: on one hand we happily "headin' out" and on the other we are sad to be leaving the land of deep passion and artistic expression.

(Be sure to check a previous post (Our Daily Route) for a new pic of Clare and Carla from "Good Caffe". They shared many a smile over Clare's ABC's and peach fruit juice.)

p.s. when we get home and have unlimited access to the internet we will be publishing a special feature for those of you who have been following our journey. More to come!!

My parents put me in precarious positions

And I love it.

30th Birthday Feast

For my birthday Tom got me three Italian boys!!!! What a gift! Well, okay, Frank offered to cook me a traditional Roman meal. Alessandro and Piero pitched in too, and it turned into a five course feast with Rigatoni all'amatriciana, spaghetti carbonara, a lovely tossed salad with baby lettuce, a plate of cheese called burratta, and the BEST EVER tiramisu from a very exclusive Roman bakery. We washed it all down with a lovely bottle of red wine and laughed our way through the night. It was a very memorable meal that I intened to share with you, in detail, after I get rid of this carb-induced coma I have fallen into.

Clare and Sunny

Clare has very clear preferences on who she admires and who she doesn't. Luckily, she loves Sunny. He is the one I wrote about below in the restaurant reviews: Cibo (the one in "Jaipur"). We run into him on the street occaisonally, and all Clare will talk about for the rest of the day is Sunny-this and Sunny-that and "Can we eat at Sunny's?" And we always say yes because Sunny is one of the few people in Rome who have made us feel truly welcome with his pleasant smile, firm handshake, and great big heart. It doesn't hurt that his restaurant has some of the best food in Rome.

Just go with me on this one....

I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s all the churches and crypts and tombs and memorials. Maybe it’s the transatlantic flight home with airports and terrorists and the unknown. Maybe it’s the fact that I watched, Italian-style out my living room window, the delicate dance of an ambulance team as they carried a very elderly man across the backs of parked Vespas and around double parked cars just to load him into the waiting gurney. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m turning 30 this week, and my grandfather always said he was going to die at thirty, then forty, then fifty… well, you get the point. Maybe it runs in the family to ruminate upon the idea.

I was really thinking about the process of death, the journey. I have been very close to death my whole life, the specter of it and the reality. My grandmother lived with us while she was dying of ovarian cancer, and those short years were some of the most informative years of my cognitive life. I watched my family rally around her, watched my grandfather tend to her devotedly, and watched her slow and sometimes holy undoing. Death is never pretty, and hers was no exception, but I often think that I learned to live by watching her attempt to gracefully die.

Some twelve years later I watched my grandfather die of lung cancer in that same house. Just as my mom had done before, she opened her doors to her parents to give them a safe haven to rest a while before taking that last journey. Again, my family drew in together, tending to him, keeping vigil, washing, bathing, feeding, and sometimes just poking bad-taste fun at him to keep up with his wicked sense of humor. The process was no less disturbing, and it was amplified hundredfold by the fact that both my older sister and I were very pregnant at the time, and could not endure too much of the physical toll that his dying exacted.

In the past few years there have been many deaths around me; friends, family, and acquaintances have disappeared, and I mourn their loss. It puzzles me the way some people deal with death, and it puzzles me that I get so angry when I am excluded from the process. Just recently we have lost people to breast cancer (2), leukemia, heart attacks (2), lung cancer, ovarian cancer, old age, and other circumstances. In one case we were gone for a short weekend and missed the sudden funeral due to Jewish time observances. I felt so helpless and adrift after that, bereft that I had not had the chance to celebrate her life and pay respects after her death. In another case I was excluded from properly grieving and paying of respects by a sudden inexplicable chasm in a longtime friendship. I was caught up in a double sorrow: grieving for the friendship, and grieving for the lost friend.

Other deaths we were excluded from not by tangible reasons, but by the intangible boundaries of social order. We were not proper family by blood, but probably shared more time with the deceased than the actual extended family. And the most disturbing event is the most bewildering: being the last person to visit with someone before they died. There is such weight in that anomaly, such a sense of human responsibility.
What did I say? What did he think? Did he feel loved and happy when I left? In that case I know he did: I had just taken a very elderly, beloved neighbor a dozen chocolate chip cookies. They found him in his chair with the cookies in his lap, a bottle of water by his side, and the ball game on TV. May I die with the same comforts and peace.

Perhaps Italy makes me appreciate life wholly because you live on the razor’s edge here. You are always moments away from getting creamed by a Vespa, falling off a poorly-maintained crumbling monument, eating a tainted meal from careless hands, breaking your back in one of the thousands of potholes larger than manholes, or simply getting into a fatal fistfight over cutting off someone in line. There seem to be no funeral parlors here, no funerals in churches, no hearsts, no mourners wearing black. What do modern Italians do with their dying, their dead? Is it inconvenient to the tourists to wait for a funeral to finish, for the motorcades to pass? Just as it is hard for me to imagine living comfortably in Rome, it is hard for me to imagine dying comfortably in Rome.

That’s my rumination on Death, and now I’m done. (I know, bad pun.)

Press Release

The American Artist Clare Dowling has announced the completion of a suite of paintings accomplished in Rome, Italy. This group of works, [a series of 16 watercolors], was undertaken whilst her parents were on sabbatical studying the Roman Baroque. Ms. Dowling’s expressions are evidence of her own experiences living and working in Rome. Her most ardent collectors, of course, will receive personal announcements of her accomplishment in the form of painted postcards. The rest of her admirers will simply have to wait for the exhibition scheduled for sometime next spring.

This recent group of artworks are representative of the enormous change in her personal abilities and vision since living in Italy. The personal handprint, as it were, of a life lived in the cafes and cultural centers of Rome and Florence. The explosion of color and gesture gives license and inspiration to us all. We will surely hear more from this young creator.

Outer Rome

One of the best things that has happened to us here in Rome is our experience outside the city center. Living in Trastevere has given us a real sense of Roman life. In addition, we have purposefully traveled to the outlying sections or neighborhoods of Rome. Not the suburbs, but the perimeter neighborhoods where the real Romans live.

The Aventine is quite beautiful. It is an upper-class district with more parkland and greenery. It sits up on one of the seven hills that Rome was founded upon. The highest point overlooks the city from the Vatican to the Circus Maximus. The backside of the hill flows down to the east, filled with large homes and apartments with plenty of trees and parks. Almost entirely residential until you hit the flatlands. One has the sense it is the Beverly Hills of Rome, in the city but still apart from it.



Testaccio is a working class neighborhood, south of the Aventine. It is a neighborhood quite proud of its “romaness”. It is the heart of the Roman soccer team’s following. It is clean, plenty of parks and schools but not many churches or government buildings. The marketplace in the biggest piazza is a wonder. Lisa has commented on it accurately. Testaccio has lots of shops and restaurants. We agreed, you could live in this area very pleasantly.


The Esquiline , particularly the outer edges of this area are an inner city environment. Not a slum, but like much of downtown L.A., filled with warehouses, trains, trucks, and commerce. Within the neighborhood are working class people including a large Chinese population. Within this area there is a large park in the Vittorio Emmanuel Piazza. The surrounding 19th century buildings are not kept up, but the shops and people are stylish and seem to cherish their environs. It is close to the Termini , so many travelers come in and out of the area. The shops and hotels cater to this group, but there is still a sense of neighborhood.



It’s been great to get out of the tourist areas. They are the history and culture and the reason for our work here, but they are also congested and commercialized for the tourists trade. The “eternal city” is filled with stories of the past at almost every turn in the street.
This is also true in these outlying areas. Our extended stay here has allowed us to explore and wander and get a feel for the contemporary Rome as well.

I have often found myself attracted to certain cities and areas in my travels. I am drawn to those areas that blend human activity and culture. I like the mix of shops and home, of artisans and manufacturing in the same neighborhood. In Ireland, I love the city of Cork. It is industrial and residential with nature at its doorstep. Unlike Dublin, which is too city, too urban. In England, I loved living in Cambridge with its intellectual industry and again, nature at the doorstep. In Rome, I like the old Roman just outside the historical center where people live and breathe and yes, nature is not far from their doorstep.


Ciao, Tommaso

Testy, Torn, Testaccio

I’ve got the blog-blahs. With one week to go until we return, I just want to lie around and mope. Isn’t that strange? I’m already moping that I’m leaving and moping because I already want to be home. It’s a weird struggle: at first this trip looked like it was going to be a hellish ride because of Italy-accom’s incompetence. When we finally got settled into our apartment and our family had its little reunion, everything began to swing around.

When they left we dug ourselves deep into Tom’s project on the Baroque churches and we accomplished an amazing amount: something to the tune of 150+ images a day. At last count (today) we have 4000 images and 3+ hours of film footage. We have four books in the works (including one just on the graffiti culture of Rome) and a project that Tom is keeping Top Secret as a surprise for those of you who have been following the blog faithfully.

So I have mixed feelings. But one thing is for sure, I have come to love Via San Francesco a Ripa. If it weren’t for the crazy guy above us (who I yelled at today for breaking the elevator. Again.) and the crazy noise, I’d be truly happy. Our street has all the bohemian chic and old-Italian style that makes Italy what it is, and yet remains neighborly. This part of Trastevere is so different from the true center of Rome, and more endearing because of it. You could literally live here without crossing the Tiber for anything except to check in with the American Embassy every once in a while.

We wandered into Testaccio yesterday and I finally breathed a bit of fresh air. Testaccio is just southeast of us, across the river. New sights! New open spaces! Different feeling altogether. I told Tom that I could live in an area like Testaccio, where the people actually smile (a bit) and the streets are wider (a bit) and the chaos is tempered (a bit) by the lack of tourist sights and notable lack of churches.

We went to the Market at Piazza Testaccio and were delighted at the loud but friendly calls of the fishmonger; the smell of Clementine oranges being broken open by the fruit vendors; the mustardy, earthy smell of chestnuts roasting; the bewildering display signs of specials; the meat cases with skinned baby pigs the size of a loaf of bread, black footed chickens, and smiling pig’s heads; and the sight of elderly mammas picking though the jumble of pillowcases, purses, shoes, t-shirts, and household items piled on the outlying tables. It was a lovely morning that was topped off by an excellent lunch at “D’albino il Sardo” with the ever-avuncular Angelo tending to us. Couldn’t ask for more.

Clare's Man of the Hour

Oh yeah, did we mention Clare has a boyfriend at every restaurant? This is Angelo from D'albino il Sardo (which I wrote about previously). He even feeds her by hand. As you can see, she takes after her mama in her preferences for older men. :)

Our daily route

Every day we walk over the Ponto Garibaldi and go on our walkabouts to photograph the Baroque churches.


We peek into the street markets on Viale de Trastevere and then end up walking our tootsies off.











If Clare's lucky she ends the day in the arms
of one of her many boyfriends. Pictured here is Luca
of "Good" caffe. He has her order down pat and she'll
let him know if the apple-cinnamon muffins
aren't up to snuff. Also pictured is Carla from "Good".
Clare (and Tom and I) especially love her and her good
sense of humor.

Dreaming of Mexican food and In N Out....

It's cold.. did we mention that?

Cibo: the Gustatory Pleasures of the Dowlings

The unofficial restaurant guide to Rome (mostly in Trastevere!):

Da Albino il sardo all’angoletto – Retreat under the vine covered bower and don’t let the unsmiling waiter fool you, this place is all heart. The minute you order something out of the box – say paparadelle with cinghale sauce (pasta with wild boar) the merest edge of his mouth with twitch and you’ll know you are loved. The food ranges from very good to fabulously extraterrestrial. The bread for the table is carte de musica: warm, huge, round crispy crackers drizzled with a touch of olive oil. The boar with toasted cheese is an otherworldly experience. The shrimp and rocket antipasto is light and lemony. The house wine is ridiculously drinkable. Go here. Go back often. (Trastevere, Via de Luce)

Osteria del Sostegno – In this tucked away restaurant, they only have four burners in the back kitchen, so if you have a large family, you may be asked to limit your primi orders to four dishes. It’s worth it. The pasta is perfect with clean interpretations of classics. The décor is warm and inviting, and there are no real misses on the menu. The wait staff is kind (we witnessed a male waiter endure and deftly deflect repeated attempts at diversion from a clearly loopy, wandering elderly lady) and efficient, and each has a hand in finishing the dishes, so they take pride in the outcome. It shows, both in presentation and in gustatory excellence. Menu changes with the season. Recommended Pollo Cacciatore; Zuppa Verdura; Speck, Radicchio e Avocado, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, and Zucchini Flower Pasta. The tiramisu is so light it could float away. Make sure you take the time to seek out this eatery. (Pantheon, Vicolo Collonna)

Teatro di Pompeo – The all male wait staff is patient and unsmiling. They’re serious about your order, and the food is strictly Roman style. What makes it different is that each dish is resoundingly good. Nice portions, fantastic taste, and a REALLY great value. The waiters will always recommend what the chef that day likes to cook. If you’re undecided, go with it. Not just a fancy name, the Teatro IS actually built over an ancient buried theater, cave-like rooms of which can be seen on a trip to the toilette. On your way back to your table, stop by the open arch that features the kitchen. The chefs are bustling about the burners, turning out succulent veal dishes, clean soups, hearty pastas, and one of the best straccetti con rughetta I’ve had.
(Pza d. biscione, Campo dei Fiori)

Jaipur – Sunny and his crew serve up delicious Indian fare at this gem of a restaurant. Special touches like a touch of sparkling wine in flutes when you are seated and the plate of fennel seeds and small, licoricy candies as you leave are simply cherries in the sundae at this eatery where each dish is an exquisite composition of flavor. Begin with papadans and the three-sauce tray. Order a large range of small dishes (each is usually under 7euro) and make sure to swipe up all those delicious sauces with buttered naan. Chicken tikka masala, lamb curry, and any form of their spinach are highly recommended. The restaurant recently won 2nd place in an international cooking contest in Naples. English spoken. (Trastevere, Via de San Francesca a Ripa)

Vizi Capitale – This little tucked away restaurant is a refreshing break from carb and tipici (typical cooking) hell. Each dish is a creation of flavor and freshness. The ambience is suave (like the padrone) and the staff helpful. Try the multi-course tasting menu for the best experience. Meats are cooked perfectly, pastas are al dente and not heavy, and dessert (we had chocolate mousse and vanilla gelato) is never an afterthought. It can be perfectly affordable if you are a party of two and split the tasting menu with an added primi plate! Surprisingly beautiful plates and chargers highlight the sumptuous fare. One of the best restrooms in all of Rome (it had potpourri and PAPER!) A gem. (Trastevere, Vicolo della Renella)

Takè – A sushi oasis in the heart of Trastevere. The décor is sumptuous inside and the details are numerous. Recommended are the udon tempera and salmon-avocado rolls. Tiny purses of minced pork and water chestnuts offer a pleasing contrast in texture. Though the menu may seem limited to those of us in areas with vast menus, it is carefully refined. Don’t be surprised if, while dining, you see a man shoulder a huge fish right through the center of the restaurant, headed for the back kitchen. You KNOW it’s fresh! (Trastevere, Viale de Trastevere)

Da Giggetto – You’d think the waiters would be more endearing at this gastronomic institution, but if you don’t mind hunting down the dessert cart or reminding them multiple times for your water, you’re in for a treat. The food is wonderful. The fried artichokes (Jewish style) are a legend, and the fish is succulent. Veal is tender and flavorful. The pastas uniformly good, and the view out over the Portica d’Ottavia, is spectacular. (The Ghetto, via Portica d’ Ottavia)

Pizzeria del Moro – The whole staff works as a team, calling out orders and making table service quick and efficient. The menu is in three languages and the food is three star. They have fresh fish and lightening quick service, without feeling rushed. Pizzas are fast on arrival, large on the plate, and huge on taste. Risotto is tender and rich; the grilled prawns were the size of small lobsters; the fish case is iced and on view. The beer comes in one size: large and cold, and the waitress with green flashing eyes is all-seeing and intuitive. You won’t leave hungry or feeling ignored. (Tratstevere, Via del Moro)

Good Caffé –Luca, Carla and the rest of the staff do their best to make you feel a part of something special. Most of the staff speak some English and attract students from John Cabot University, but go for the drinks and the food. Unusual items such as apple cinnamon muffins, fresh tremezzino sandwiches, and homemade apple torte are winners. The eggplant Parmesan looks de-lish. The White Lady’s are highly recommended. Luca serves up a mean latte. Although the waiters will count up your bill without writing it down (which can be confusing and unnecessarily obfuscating), the wireless Internet connect is rare in Rome, and a draw for business types and scholastics alike. (Trastevere, Piazza Dorotea /S. G Malva)

Caffe Farnese – With its spectacular view onto the Piazza Farnese, this caffe is a lovely break from the crush of the Campo dei Fiori crowd. Smartly dressed waiters and waitresses (where else in affordable Rome do they wear bow ties at a caffe?) will take your order with relative promptness. The caffe latte was so rich and thick you could hear it sploosh as you stirred in a bit of sugar. The cornetti are scented with orange water. The selection of sweets and savories is vast. There are oranges glowing in a stainless steel basket by the juicer perched in the window. Need I say more? Go often. Linger long. (Piazza Farnese, near the Campo dei Fiori)

Vincenzo de Lungaretta – Cooking straight from Mama’s hand to your table. Literally. One day we had to wait what seemed an interminable time for our check, and on inspection, found her operating the till and then running back to finish a dish. The waiters are good humored and good looking, and the food is simple, tasty fare. The salsicce is loaded with flavor, and accompanied by a lemon wedge to brighten the tastes. The penne all’arribiata passed the spiciness test of our connoisseurs (tom and clare) and the side dishes are all homey fare. It faces one of Rome’s few fine art spots: Joe DeLuca’s photography gallery. Right across the street is a tiny fruit and vegetable stand complete with sleeping watch dog under the fruit crates. (Trastevere, Via Lungaretta/Near Via de Luce)

Insalata Ricca – Huge salads and ample plates of pasta are what this eatery is known for. The salads come in about 25 combinations and are easily splittable by two. Nearly 15 pastas are on offer, and you would be wise to check the buffet case for daily specials. The pizzas are light and crispy, with just the right amount of toppings. Wait service can be spotty, but is generally quick and passable. Five Locations in Rome, but not all have a piazza oven like Trastevere. Multilingual menu.
(Trastevere, Via de Santini)

To Fly (Quick Lunch) – A new restaurant with ultra-mod interior and unusual style: they have nearly 18 different dishes set out buffet style for a price fix lunch of 15 Euros. At 12:30 they roll out the four chafing dishes and present anything from lasagna to chicken legs to pork. Buffet dishes range from shrimp couscous to cold cuts to rice with peas and mint. One dish was a surprising medley of eggplant and cold cooked calamari steak, and another was warm flavored rice molded into a ring and served with sundried tomato sauce. Just for the sheer number of dishes to try and the varied menu, this restaurant is recommended. The fact that 98% of the food was excellent doesn’t hurt either.
(near Piazza Venezia/via Fornari)

Recommended with reserve:
Paella II – The sangria is special, the paella is a good break from pasta, and there is an egg and potato wedge of excellence that we never managed to find out its name. However, this restaurant is run by the parents of the gypsy boys that tried to pickpocket me in daylight on the Ponte Garibaldi. For that reason alone, beware. The boys often lurk in the back room. Keep your purse in your lap and enjoy the sangria!
(Trastevere, v. Gensola)

Le Archi di Trastevere – Service can be excruciatingly slow, but is genial. A family-run establishment, this restaurant serves HUGE portions and very tasty fare. Highly recommended are the pasta e ceci soup, the risotto al mare, the shrimp cocktail, and the pasta with lemon sauce (it works, don’t ask me why).
(Trastevere, v.d.arco san calisto)

Tom's reading list part Deux

Adam Gopnik, “ Paris to the Moon”
I thought this was a terrific work. American family abroad, the trials, the insights
All in an art/literary context. Expectedly, I found a lot of similarities to our experiences here in Rome.

Michael Frayn, “Headlong”
A perfect BBC or “Masterpiece Theater” drama from the author of “Copenhagen”.
Art as the mcguffin in the plot, mystery and human failings bunched up to create a tumultuous story of an interior and intimate nature. Kind of a “da Vinci Code” for the thinking reader.

Federico Garcia Lorca, “In Search of Duende”
Lectures by the poet on the spirit of Andalusian music. Written in the 1930’s it has certain romantic and nationalistic leanings that date the ideas. Nevertheless, as a metaphor “duende” is the spirit that all creators hope for.

Alessandro Baricco, “Ocean/Sea”
Magic Realism in style, poetically written. Almost a child’s story about characters in crisis brought together in a seaside Inn. Each character, including the Inn and settings are metaphors for states of being. The story, told in a magical way makes it all the more
vivid.
“Silk”
Beautifully told tale of love, desire and commitment expressed in the manner of a folktale or myth. Like the aforementioned novel, this also is vivid and magical.

Lindsey Davies, “Shadows in Bronze”
Fun reading, film noir meets ancient Rome when the Roman detective Marcus Falco tries to solve 2 murders and bring to justice a cadre of traitors. Parts of the action take place on the Amalfi Coast in the Aventine section of Rome…..which we have come to know very well!

Italo Calvino, “If on a winter’s night a traveler…”
Postmodern in style, the novel, [ I use the term loosely], is self-reflective. It speaks a lot about how it is said not what is said. The writer and the reader are characters in the book. The pages are filled with the beginnings of 10 different stories, separate narratives that almost come together in the end. It’s one of those early postmodern experiments in literature. It can be forgiven for that… in that it makes you think about the role of the reader in literature. What we each bring to the story is important, even vital to the continuation of culture.

In addition I’ve been reading multiple books, brochures and church biographies on the people and places we’ve been documenting in camera.

Ciao, Tommaso

We're officially broke

To support Clare's fruit and vegetable habit we've had to put her to work washing dishes.

Halloween and Happy

Here we are in front of Santa Maria Maggiore's fountain. Happy!



Here's Clare in her Halloween getup of a gatto (kitty). She LOVED it for about 6 minutes. By the time I had gone to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, she had scared herself by making faces in the mirror. I think she didn't recognize herself after a while! We promptly wiped it off and set out for our evening at the Cantina Paradsio.