A Letter From Lake Como

Dear George,

  I'm sorry you weren't home the last time I visited Lake Como.  I know I should have timed my trip better, but we we decided to stay an extra day in Freiburg, and you know how rarely I get to Germany!  It's funny how this was my second trip to the lago, yet the three Italians I was traveling with had never been, and I, once again, had to act as tour guide.  Romans!

  The photo at the top of my blog was taken at the Villa Monastero (do you visit other villas on the lake to compare?), which was originally a nun's monastery built in the early 1200's.  (I'd join that convent!)  As a visitor sashays through the ornate rooms and tranquil gardens, it's not a far stretch to imagine oneself as a baroness or important guest and wish that one could stay for a few days.  I was so sure that I had lived there in another life that I nearly shooed away all of the tourists; I didn't like the way they were snooping around.

Bellaggio

  No matter how many times I cross Lake Como on the ferries, I am still amazed at how big it is.  It took us 15 minutes to get from Varenna to Bellaggio, and 6 minutes to get to Menaggio, but those are only  the towns in the middle of the lake - it took another hour to get to Como.  I hear it's a six-hour drive to circle the lake; small wonder with all those annoying round-abouts.

   Do you ever get to the town of Como?  I doubt it since it's so crowded and you would get recognized too easily.  I would have to put Como on the list of the top shopping districts in Italy.  We were there on a Saturday, and the streets, closed to automobile traffic, were bustling with locals and tourists, and just when we would think we had come to the last shop, we would turn the corner and end up on yet another row of stores.  There were outdoor cafes, restaurants, boutiques, and churches - we even saw two weddings.  Too bad the Italian silk merchants have mostly been swallowed up by the Chinese, but who hasn't?

Menaggio

 


On our way back to Varenna on the ferry, we passed Laglio, where everyone shouted out "Ciao George!" at every grand villa, but I knew you wouldn't come out and wave like you used to in the early years, because, let's face it, those Italians are getting tiresome, aren't they?  They were charming and fun in the beginning, but they really act like they own you out on that lake: George this, and George that - don't they have celebrities of their own in Italy?  Seriously now, if it's a siting you're interested in, just come to Studio City, right?

  I promise next time I'm at Il Lago I'll give you more notice.  I'll just drop by to say hello though, I couldn't possibly stay at your place.  I'm sure your villa is quite lovely, but I really must get back to the Villa Monastero and see if they would be willing to cloister me there.

Until Then,
Susan

Villa Monastero

Dining in Italy off the Beaten Path

How can I write about Italy without talking about eating?  I don't generally find food to be all that interesting, but I would be leaving out a big chunk of the Italian Experience if I didn't share some of my favorite food stories.  Let me be clear here: I enjoy a good meal just like the next person, but I do not consider myself a foodie, and I know what a foodie is, because I have several in my family.  A foodie is someone who plans dinner while he's having morning coffee.   A foodie is someone who plans Christmas dinner the day after Thanksgiving, and makes sure no menu item is repeated.  A foodie is someone who not only remembers the restaurant and what she ate there, but will travel miles off the beaten path just to re-live that meal.

I am guilty on the last point in a few cases, most of them connected to food I've had in Italy.  I won't waste your time with Vivoli's gelato, pizza in Trastevere, or Bellini and panini at Harry's Bar - all wonderful fare, but soooo overhyped.  The places I'm listing here are not easy to get to, and probably not exactly where you're going, but, if you're anywhere near the neighborhood, are worth the travel time. ( N.B. Not my fault if your experience isn't as enjoyable as mine since, in many cases, it's been a few years since my last visit to the restaurant.)

Al Castello, Vernazza (Cinque Terre)  A view to die for (actually, you may die on your hike up the hill to get here), and a pesto lasagne that I've tried to replicate many times.  I went back to the Cinque Terre two years after the first trip, mostly for the lasagne, and asked for the recipe, which was gladly given to me by the Signora who makes it every day: 12 layers of hand-rolled pasta with a bechamel-pesto sauce, (more bechamel than pesto) between every layer.  We were in Liguria, where they invented pesto; she even revealed that they use both Parmiggiano-Reggiano and Pecorino cheeses with the basil, pine nuts and olive oil that they chop in a food processor.  I've made it many times, and it's never come out as good as the pasta I've, sadly, only had the pleasure of eating twice.  Sorry, but I can't speak for the other dishes offered since I've only tried the one.

Trattoria La Fiasca, Sirmione   Firstly, Sirmione is a beautiful town on Lake Garda in the north of Italy, just west of Verona.  Entering the borgo of Sirmione on the wooden footbridge, you are instantly transported into medieval times, surrounded by the stone fortifications of the Rocca Scaligera Castle. Shops and gelaterie  have taken the place of the workshops and huts of those serving the Lombard King, but the structures have remained the same, and the streets that take you through the tiny peninsula have changed very little.
But enough about beautiful Sirmione.  I visited Trattoria La Fiasca long, long ago on a very stormy night, and we had driven in from Verona, so it's close enough that you don't have to stay overnight. It was cold, so we ordered grill pork chops which were lightly dressed in olive oil, and were delicious enough on their own, but the thing that I can't get out of my head was the bruschetta (please say "bru-skett-a" and not "bru-chett-a") that was simply bread toasted on the grill and DRIZZLED WITH THE PAN DRIPPINGS FROM THE PORK CHOPS. I won't insult anyone with further elaboration; if you don't get it, I'm not interested in converting you.  Just know that I, (not a foodie, may I remind you) returned to Sirmione on two other occasions but was unable to revisit my food nirvana because I didn't have reservations, and yes, I did beg. 

Ristorante Le Capannine, Barberino di Mugello (near Florence)
We found this little jewel on a car trip from Florence to Rome by way of  recommendation from a truck driver.  Never judge a book by its cover, and I refer to the truck driver who we Americans in the car would not have approached - fortunately, we had an Italian in the car who knew better.  The restaurant is right off Autostrada A, in a rustic stone house (capannina is the Italian word for hut). Upon entering, you are warmly welcomed by dried sausages and prosciutti hanging from the ceiling, and not so warmly welcomed by a burly, also rustic, man positioned behind a wood-fired grill.  After one whiff we unanimously voted to stay.  Our meal consisted of ribollita (vegetable soup cooked with bread), a cold-cut platter with various dried sausages, prosciutto, mortadella, and cheeses, and a huge platter of grilled meats: pork chops, bistecca alla Fiorentina, and sausages. Our bill was considerably lower than what we paid to eat in Florence and Venice, and the owner and employees were friendly and spoke English (the man at the grill didn't have to be friendly - he was a magician.)  I can't wait to go back and clean my plate with that wonderful bread.

Don't worry - I wouldn't leave you without the links:

Ristorante Al Castello
Trattoria La Fiasca
Ristorante La Capannine

Sirmione

Allowing Your Marble to Age Gracefully

I can't tell you how often friends and clients ask me for a referral for someone to come to their home to polish or refinish their aging marble.  In true California youth-oriented style, everyone (alright, they're mostly women) wants to exfoliate the dull sheen to reveal the original smooth, shiny surface that they so enjoyed when the stone was first installed.  I hate to make so obvious an analogy, but ladies, you need to embrace the passage of time rather than resist it.  Your marble entryway has gotten to the state it's in by experiencing life: when it was new, it had a shiny finish; then it was walked over, skidded on, and treated like any other floor.  Why be upset that it's showing its age?

A real patina takes years to form, and cannot be successfully faked.  Think of the furniture experts on Antiques Roadshow who admonish people for refinishing old valuable pieces - it decreases the value tremendously.  In Italy, retail and food establishments almost always have counters and tables made with marble - not even granite, which is more durable - and it is never, ever refinished.  Italians have a way of facing the truth about aging, and wouldn't think to hone and polish a white or green marble counter top to give it the appearance of being new.  Staircases in many old houses, churches, and public buildings have a wonderful indentation in the middle of each marble step formed from centuries of foot traffic. I always look down when I climb Italian marble stairs, thinking of all of those who have preceded me and all who will come after I am gone.

I realize that our houses are not all palaces, but we need to learn to appreciate the beauty that lies beneath the surface and quit trying to stop the clock.  Brand-new and shiny is a lot of fun, but gracefully aged is much more interesting.

The Holy Stairs in Rome (slideshow of restoration)

Stairs to Cupola of St Peter's Basilica, Rome
Approximately 450 years young

Roman Travertine: Do you have a piece of the Colosseum?

If you've never seen it in person, you've seen it hundreds of times in pictures or in movies: The Flavian Amphitheater, commonly known as the Colosseum.  There are very few structures on this earth as old as  the Roman Colosseum, and, as it turns out, with as long a legacy.  Though the clashing of gladiators' swords and the roar of the bloodthirsty crowds have been long silent, Colosseum Stone is still being quarried in Tivoli, near Rome, and if you have any Italian travertine in your home, perhaps cladding your fireplace or covering your floors or countertops, you share a link with the ancient Roman world.

I know of no other place that manages to take my breath away no matter how many times I've seen it, and whenever I'm in Rome I make an effort to pay a visit, preferably via the subway.  When friends ask me about siteseeing in Rome, I tell everyone to make sure to take the subway Line B, exit "Colosseo" rather than a bus or taxi; the vision that beholds you after coming up the escalator from the dark subway and exiting the station is guaranteed to take your breath away.  The familiar arched colonnades of the massive structure appear directly in front of the station, larger even than you imagined it would be. As you cross the street to get closer, try to ignore the cheesy Roman Gladiator costumed men.  I wish we could rewind Italy back to the 80's before someone came up with the awful yet genius idea that the Disneyfication of their national treasures would line some pockets, but then I'm old-fashioned.

I remember wondering why there was a big bite missing from the Colosseum when I first saw it, and for some reason I thought it had suffered damage from WWII, which also explained the huge pock marks on the exterior facade.  I had pictured a big gun battle with the Italian army defending their monuments against the nasty German army who had no regard for a country's history.  I'm not sure what artillery I had in mind, nor where I got the idea that there was ever a battle in Rome during The War, but let that be a warning to anyone sending their kids to L.A. Unified.

As it turns out, the missing travertine from the Colosseum was pilfered not by enemies of Rome, but from the Romans themselves, some of whom, according to legend, may have been of the Papal persuasion. The Colosseum was damaged in earthquakes, but instead of repairing the ancient amphitheater, the travertine was salvaged to build palaces and churches throughout Rome.  In 1450, Pope Nicolas V ordered 2,500 cartloads of Colosseum Stone delivered to the ancient St. Peter's Basilica in order to make repairs to the original structure, but it's not known how much actually went into the Renaissance structure standing today once it was completed in 1655.  So there we have it: a beautiful basilica at one end of the city, and a fragmented amphitheater at the other - and, as usual when it comes to Italian design, it works.

Links:
Virtual Tour of St Peter's Basilica
The Roman Colosseum: Architectural Details and History

Snow in Rome: February, 2012