Several weeks ago I did a Google search for Cooking Classes in Rome. The first search result was, strangely, Cooking Classes in Rome. I looked at some reviews online and it sounded good and legit so we signed up. The fact that this is the chef had nothing to do with my decision.
The class is in a neighborhood called Trastevere. It's across the river from our flat and is supposed to be kind of funky and cool. It is also supposed to have way better restaurants than where we are -- more authentic, less touristy.
This is Trastevere.
It has good graffiti.
We need to take a taxi to get over there. This is our first experience with a Roman Taxi driver. The ride in from the airport was in a hired car. Totally different universe of discourse. The taxi driver is going super fast, driving in the middle of the street, zooming around people, scooters, other cars. It's quite terrifying and at some point I just have to close my eyes. I can't watch. (Little did I know that the following week, after time riding around taxis in Naples, I would find this current driver calming and safe, but more on that later.)
We are a little bit early given we drove at over 200 kph to get here. We wander around the neighborhood and find a little coffee bar. We order like locals:"Un caffe, per favore." We are smugly confident that we are now traveling and not just having a vacation.
When it's time we head over to the class. People trickle in. Yep, as you would expect, lots of old people from the USA. We start chatting and it turns out that many of us go to Hawai'i a lot, have lived in Hawai'i, or currently live in Hawai'i. Here we are 8000 miles away from the Islands, in one of the most amazing cities in the world, and we are talking about Hawai'i. I have no problem with this.
One couple is not very chatty. They stand back from the rest of us and do not talk about Hawai'i. They seem sneaky.
I am watchful for the signs and then my suspicions are confirmed: "It finally got to aboot 10 degrees in Torono when we left. Long winter." Of course. Why don't they pronounce the T in their largest city?
After some chatting we all head into the kitchen. The menu is going to be:
- Carciofi alla Romana (Roman Style Artichokes)
- Gnocchi fatte in casa alla Norma (Homemade Gnocchi with Eggplant and Tomatoes in Sicilian Style)
- Scaloppine di Vitellone con Funghi e Piselli (Beef scaloppine with mushrooms and fresh green peas)
- Millefoglie di Verdure (Vegetable Parmigiana)
- Tiramisù alle Fragole (Strawberry Tiramisù)
Aside from being super cute and speaking really good English, the chef, Andrea Consoli, is nice, funny, and really passionate about Roman cooking. He goes around the room and asks us to name a dish that is authentically Roman. I offer up Cacio e Pepe of course and am met with a high five. Mark says Bucatini All'Amatriciana and gets high marks too. I mention to him the Cacio e Pepe with tomatoes from last night. He swears and pounds his chest.
This is not fancy restaurant cooking. It is really just local home style cooking. Which is the point -- go home and make these things for your friends.
I did learn several things in this class:
- Romans don't use eggs in making their pasta. It's just semolina, water, and a bit of salt. Eggs are only used in icky pasta made with white flour which they would never do here.
- The mint used in cooking here is called Roman mint and is not like the bubble gum flavored mint I have growing in my backyard at home. It's almost like oregano. I have to find out how to grow this at home.
- Artichokes are better used as flowers because they are impossible to carve correctly.
Everyone has to be very hands on. We all have different levels of skill so we all help each other out.
Halfway through the class a couple in their late 80's show up. They have been trapped on a cruise ship for three weeks, banished there by their children. They made a break for it and ducked in here. We all agree that we should shelter them as none of us can imagine anything worse than taking a cruise. The wife sounds just like Ruth Gordon in Rosemary's Baby. She ever wears a necklace with a little ball attached for storing Tannis Root. Ruth picks up a knife and starts carving artichokes like a pro.
The whole thing was kind of wonderful until they started taking pictures at the end. Normally I hold my hand up to cover my face when someone takes my picture, but that would have been rude here so I just frowned.
What a nice way to spend my last day.
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Tonight we are going to stay in. We're kind of full from the cooking class. I take a long bath and listen to music from KCRW on my iPad while sipping a glass of Est! Est!! Est!!! I am very happy, even though I am turning 50 in a few hours.
For dinner we have kind of a pick-nick: salumi, bread, cheese, wine. We watch some old black and white movies in Italian on a TV channel from Naples.
Then it's time. Time to walk to the Trevi Fountain, throw some coins in backwards, and turn 50.
Of course Google Maps screws up and we get lost on the way over, but eventually we arrive.
It's huge, bright, and loud. There are lots of people here to wish me happy birthday.
I toss some coins back and then it's done.
I'm still here.
The world has not ended.
I am not crying like I did when I turned 40.
You know, other than being really fat, my life is pretty damn good. I am kind of tired now and I want to go to bed.
Welcome to the rest of your life.
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God damn pterodactyl! What the hell. I open up my window and scream, "SILENCIO!" Off in the distance I hear this little voice, "Pronto?"
Well, I'm up. It's my birthday. We are going to the Vatican today. How fraught is that?
We have a much less scary cab ride to the next country over. We have to meet our guide Stella early. She is young, speaks great English, is smart, and friendly. I don't know how she can do this everyday. The place is insane. I can't possibly convey how busy with tourists this place is. I could post about 500 pictures, but I won't. Here are a few:
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.So don't get me wrong. I am very happy I got to see all the art. The Sistine Chapel was amazing. But the whole experience was exhausting Too much to see, too many people, nuns everywhere.
Speaking of the Sistine Chapel, do not even try to take a photo in there or these ninja nuns will grab your camera and delete the photo. And then hit you on the wrists with a ruler.
They told us going in:
- No photos
- No bare shoulders
- No pants above the knee
- No exposed abdomens
- No talking
They mean it. At one point this scary voice comes over a loud speaker and screams, "SILENCIO!" The entire hall goes quiet immediately. I whisper "Pronto?"
And what is up with the dead body of Santa all out there and presentational? Did they feel the need to take out the competition?
Oh, and you do not exit through the gift shop! What the hell.
We take a taxi to a nearby pizza place called Pizzarium where we stand in line with locals and order in Italian and eat pizza standing up.
Awesome!
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OK, it's my birthday dinner. We are going to Taverna Trilussa because chef Andrea recommended it when he heard of my Capio e Pepe quest.
I have been practicing saying "Good Evening, we have dinner reservations at 20:00." in Italian all afternoon. The taxi driver drops us off. The place looks a little...young. There are hipster kids with tattoos all over the front drinking beer. I walk in and try to make my little speech in Italian. This girl looks at me funny and then laughs and says we are in the wrong place, that this is a bar with the a similar name! Our restaurant is down the street a bit. I am embarrassed but the whole thing is so funny that I can't stop laughing. I am such a bone head.
Eventually we find the right place and are seated outside.
We start with Negronis, then have some antipasti which I cannot remember right now because then it came out. Cacio e Pepe in the pan it was cooked in. I'm shaking.
I close my eyes. I stick out my tongue. I taste. Then I am gone.
It's good to be back, to that special dimension I travel to when I astrally project. As usual there are younger versions of me floating all around all happy about something they just ate. Oh look, there is an older version of me too. I am going to Maui in December. Looks like I am going to lose weight.
The great thing about being here is that time does not exist, so your food on Earth doesn't get cold.
At some point I come crashing back into my body and I have another taste. They have used just the grated cheese, the pepper, and the pasta water to create this supernatural sauce that coats everything in creamy, sharp, peppery, joyous, magical goo.
Happy fucking birthday to me!
I don't know what anyone else had. I do not care. At some point I do realize I forgot to take a picture. I manage to snap one with my phone before I lick the pan.
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Oh my god. One word. What is the one word I can use here?
AWESOME!
I do order a secondi, Coda alla Vaccinara -- oxtail with raisins, pine nuts, and chocolate. I don't want to eat a dead cow but they do not have any fish on the menu. I don't remember what it tastes like. I doesn't matter. We can probably just go back to Seattle now.
As we are leaving I manage to snap a picture of the restaurant with my phone. You can tell the astral projection energy is still all around me.
AWESOME!
Up next, statues and ruins!
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