First bites

I’ve had a busy first two days in Rome.

On Friday night I crossed my piazza, the Sant’ Egidio, to the Via della Scala, where my landlady, Sari has her own apartment to meet up for dinner. We ate New Year’s leftovers, drank Italian red and swapped horror stories about tenants. Her last people travelled from the U.S. with their two cats in tow! Not only did they stay in Rome, but were moving on to Paris and then Ireland. With cats.

Christmas lights are everywhere in my neighbourhood. There is a giant “Auguri” (Best wishes) sign lit up on the Via dei Pettinari, just over the Ponte Sisto bridge, and strings of fairy lights flow overhead all the way down to the Via dei Giubbonari. The biggest controversy is over the mile-long strings of gay-pride lights on the Via del Corso, the busy shopping street that runs from the Vittorio Emanuele monument to the Piazza del Popolo, and planned as an anti-homophobic message following the suicide of a gay teen. The local council, who installed the lights, has battled the right-wing Fratelli d’Italia party, who want the lights changed to a patriotic green, white and red, ever since. Tomorrow, Epiphany, will see most of the Christmas lights around the city begin to come down.

 

There is a giant Christmas tree at the Vatican, and another in front of the Vittorio Emanuele monument. And the presepe - the nativity scenes – are everywhere. These scenes (mostly in the porticos of the churches) are incredibly detailed, with miniature piazzas sporting bakeries with their ovens glowing, trattorie with turning spit-roasts, groups of villagers playing cards, or at dinner; and artists in front of their easels, or carving wood, or sculpting marble. You can buy the tiny figurines used in these presepe at the giant Christmas market in the Piazza Navona. There are scores of different styles and sizes, and it’s possible also to find tiny bunches of fruit, baskets, foliage and other dolls-house size décor to make your own nativity scene.

 

 Also from the market, every kid in Rome has a helium balloon grasped in one hand – this year there are pink unicorns, Disney figures and my favourite, Minions from the animated film ‘Despicable Me’. And there are also masses of the witchy ‘Befana’ flying on her broomstick, ready to reward the good kids with lollies, and the naughty ones with lumps of coal.

 

Yesterday I went to see some Caravaggios, that big, bad Baroque painter in the naturalistic style. Even in the depths of murky churches his use of the chiaroscuro makes the pictures glow. I began at the French church near the Piazza Navona, the San Luigi dei Francesi. As its holiday time here in Rome, people are everywhere – and of course Caravaggio pulls large crowds. It took some time to get a good vantage point to see both the Martyrdom of Saint Matthew and the Calling of Saint Matthew, and even longer to read and digest the commentary displayed throughout the church. It would be difficult to appreciate and understand the symbolism in these paintings without guidance, although it soon becomes apparent to follow the beams of light to see the real, intended focal points in the pictures.

My favourite painting, further along in the church of Santa Maria del Popolo is the Conversion of Saint Paul, the shiny hindquarters of the skewbald horse displayed (and dominating the painting in that beam of light), Saint Paul sprawled on the ground, looking up in his moment of comprehension. It is even busier in here, with all of us straining our necks, and nudging our way in, to get a better view.

 

Back in the Campo dei Fiori market. It’s the season for fennel, oranges, artichokes and puntarelle, that crispy, crunchy, squeaky-on-the-teeth salad vegetable that freshens up winter lunch. Plenty of time over the next few weeks to find this in the restaurants and trattorie. The Romans dress it with anchovies, olive oil and vinegar and it really wakes up the palate. Incredibly time-consuming to prepare, you can buy a special implement to make short of work of shredding the celery-like bulb (that tastes more of asparagus) into the requisite coils.

 

I’ve been having a few Italian conversations, mainly in supermarkets and museums, with an increasing attempt to use the ‘Congiuntivo’, my language weak spot. So I’ve been thinking, hoping, supposing and believing my way through many conversations to get my head around this pesky tense.

 

Today I walked up to the Quirinale to see the exhibition of Augustus, heir to Julius Caesar, and, in August 2014, dead for 2000 years. Statuary, friezes, cameos, intarsia and even household furniture has been assembled from museums all over the globe at the Scuderie museum and the art is spread over two floors, with a thoughtful restaurant buffet inserted in between. So for 15 euros, you can sit and eat wonderful Italian food, drink a glass of wine and look out over a rainy Roman skyline for a while before climbing up to see the second part of the exhibition. Which is exactly what I did today, finishing this evening with a walk through Trastevere before heading back to the apartment.