Pottery Trained in Roma

Well, this past weekend, my good friend Signe flew in from Denmark for a few days.  As the program was nearing an end, a break that comes in the form of a really good friend was greatly appreciated.    

Tourists were out in full force - that kind of body to body, sticky throng that moves at a snail's pace and is cranky in a multitude of languages.  So, our goal was to avoid crowds if at all possible, which translated into seeking out small side streets.  This turned out to be an excellent decision, as we discovered all sorts of interesting cafes, shops, piazzas and random historical monuments, like this little gem:

And so we wandered.  Past the Spanish steps:

Then inside the Pantheon:

Up a set of stairs I had long wondered where they led:

Saturday was arguably one of the best days of my entire life.  The goal of four of us was to make it to Pompeii and Naples and back, all in one day.  Some considered it impossible - we said we'd still try.

It started as most day trips do: really, stinkin' early.  For Brandi - who lives in the other apartment - it started even earlier as she was the only one who figured that if we wanted to make it to the train station for the 5:40 train, we should probably leave a little before five.  The rest of us woke up at five, which prompted a mad dash around the apartment and a sprint out the door.  Again, not thinking, we hadn't called a cab the night before and so we set off on foot for an hour trek instead.

And it turned out to be the beginning of a series of fantastic decisions.  NO ONE was at the Colosseum that early in the morning and so we had the opportunity to just look at it.  The sky was pink by that point, melding into other soft pastels of the morning. 

After some oohing and ahing, we continued toward the train station, only to be cursed in French by a gypsy woman.  And by cursed, I don't mean the normal type of cussing that goes on in the states, but an actual curse.  But, as someone in the group pointed out, if you can't understand the whole thing, it doesn't count!

Finally, we made it to the train station, bought the tickets quickly from the machine (Iris getting helped out by a rather enthusiastic man behind her) and made it to the train with two minutes to spare (to the great amusement of the conductor).  The train was the fast one (there are several) with tiny, glassed-off compartments akin to those in Harry Potter.  As it was still very much morning, we were privy to the sun rising over the Roman countryside: great umbrella pines (the kind described by Pliny the Younger in the Vesuvius destruction) with pink mist swirling around the stately ruins of aqueducts.  Waving stalks of yellow grain bowed their little heads in the morning breeze, while the sun peered into the train window.

When I was growing up in Colby town, my dad would role down the windows of the car whenever a train would pass so that we could enjoy the clackety-clack of the wheels.  That same sound on Saturday brought a soothing comfort quite in contrast to the constant car traffic and horns of the night before.  And as I looked out the window, the landscape the further south we went looked more and more like Israel - rocky hills, terracotta roofed houses and finally, blue-grey sea. 

After a train switch in a much-improved Naples train station, we got on the local train to carry us Pompeii.  Last time I attempted to go, I got stuck in a bathroom at the station AFTER Pompeii.  I have now redeemed myself as not only did we get off at the CORRECT stop, the bathroom trip was also successful (although I accidentally paid the bathroom lady in shekels, to which she chuckled with her broken-toothed smile and said, "No good, no good."  Gee.). 

Professor Steven Ellis of Cincinnati met us at the train station in a cool and quiet car (especially wonderful after the cattle-cars of the second train) and then drove us through the back entrance (pass only) onto the site.  Then followed a FAN-TAS-TIC orientation to the site and then a tour of the Cincinnati project.  They are currently working on the middle class houses/industries of Pompeii (YES, folks, there WAS a middle class in the Roman world).  Professor Ellis spoke with such enthusiasm about the project and about the real potential for interdisciplinary study.  Sure our texts are scanty on specifically Pompeii, but it was a town entrenched in an entire Roman system.  Ellis also talked about the chronology of the site and the transitions economically each family faced.  He then pointed out the different features of the typical household shop, replete with a funky locking mechanism in the floor and counter space.  I can't get over how generous it was for a very busy professor to take the time out for such a tour - I'm truly blessed at Cincinnati. 

After leaving Ellis (who gave us a last orientation to the map, then offered the advice that we should just let ourselves get lost on the site and see what we might stumble upon), we were off for the next part of the day.  We went right first, quickly beginning a game of "find the sherd," which morphed into "find the dolium."  Did you know - because I didn't - that dolia were actually built into ancient shop counters?  The shopkeeper would then scoop his cool ware out of them for any customers.  Ingenious, really.

At one point, having stepped through the gateway of a house, we found ourselves on the wrong side of a fence with a few straggling tourists gapping in at us.  That was one of the first places I saw the wall-painting Pompeii is famous for - great panels of red and mustard yellow.  Extracting ourselves from the house, we moved on towards the great amphitheatre, crossing a cool pathway shaded by tall, clean-smelling pines. 

I wish I could convey how vast the city of Pompeii is - certainly bigger than Colby town, but with house upon house, shop after shop.  Some of the houses are massive, with little courtyards in the center where olive trees still grow and painted birds play in faded fountains - given voice by their live counterparts.  At one point, in search of a restroom, my travel companions and I found ourselves at the top of rise, where we were given a quasi-aerial view of the site with a deformed Mount Vesuvius silently looming in the distance - gathering strength for another blow? 

I also discovered how hot it gets exposed in the sun.  My enormous white hat was the envy of my companions - to the point that my travel companions began plotting schemes to procure it for themselves.  Most were along the lines of Joseph and his many colored coat.  I was NOT the object of envy a little while later when - clearly not as observant as other members of our group - I began petting a little jackal of a dog, only to notice that what I thought was water spots on his head ended up being an ear oozing with infection, fleas and puss.  His sneeze on me didn't help either, which gave new meaning to the mosaic in the doorway of one of the houses: Cave Canem ("beware the dog").

I also forgot how much I detest the plaster body casts made of people encased in the ash from the volcanic explosion in 79 AD.  This became all the clearer when I overheard one of the tour guides say, "And here, notice the bulge under this woman - she was pregnant."  I cannot even imagine.  The explosion happened at night.  At a site even closer to the eruption - Herculaneum - the docks were filled with bodies of people trying to escape.  Certainly a sober reminder of how we came to have such an exemplum of ancient life.        

Some members of my group were flagging by this time - and as the majority of us had been there already (though all were shocked at how accessible and open the site now is!) - we returned to the train station to make our way back to Naples.  Once there, it was just a hop, skip and short taxi ride to the world famous Naples museum - home to REAL mosaics, frescoes and finds from Pompeii.  Among all the classical sculpture, I was pleased to also find a display of Michelangelo's notebooks WITH his signature and technical sketches. 

Unlike the museums at Rome, which are jammed packed with artifact upon artifacts, all overshadowed by hideous Baroque wall paintings, Naples was clean and airy.  It was much easier to absorb the material.  That said, about half the museum (including the mosaics!  GOO!) was closed off.  I asked Rafaele (Archer's assistant and resident of Naples, who was kind enough to meet us at the museum) why things were closed.  His answer: a quizzical "because they are." 

What was there, however, was enough to fill this classically minded individual.  I find myself always looking for faces of people I know in the sculpture and was really tickled to find one of my pottery professor. 

The real highlight was the frescoes.  I had been to Pompeii.  I have taken classes about wall-paintings.  But in NO way was a prepared for the detail, the emotion, the humanity evoked in these paintings.  One that particularly moved me was of Medea and her children.  For those of you not familiar with the mythology, Medea - a young naive girl married the famed Jason of the Argonauts and follows him away.  Fast-forward a few years and two children later, Jason dumps Medea for a younger model, putting Medea herself at risk, but especially the lives of her children.  So, she kills them - in revenge or in their protection, who knows?  Anyway, the fresco depicts Medea watching her two children anxiously, her head resting on one of her hands.  The children play a game of knuckle-bones and the toddling victor is in the process of running to his mother with a leaf frond clutched in his chubby palm.  A rather domestic scene, except a close viewing reveals Medea's other hand clutching a knife tightly.  Horrific and mesmerizing, all in one.     

I also saw the famous fresco of a girl with a pen and book in hand.  Nearby was a panel of painted local birds - my favorite being a tiny, clearly loved rendering of a sparrow.  The windows were strangely open in these rooms, but the honking and other sounds of human traffic weren't as intrusive as I would have expected.  Instead, it put the frescoes in context - a modern reflection of the noises which would have been the background to the houses in Pompeii where these paintings were displayed.

After the museum, Rafaele gave a walking tour into the heart of Naples.  Now, every tour book you will open will warn you of the dangers of Naples.  Knifings actually happen here amongst a host of all sorts of other crimes.  Your purse will be stolen (so money belts are best!).  Someone even described the city to me as "the armpit of Italy."

Oh, how wrong were they!  Maybe because we had a local guide, maybe because everyone always exaggerates danger, but me, the queen of worry, felt safe and actually enjoyed the further we got away from sheer tourism into life as is.  The buildings are much higher than those of Rome, although they all are in that Mediterranean, old European feel.  More spray paint everywhere, but interesting shapes.  I found myself warming to the urbanism of the place and the gritty realness of it all.

And the desserts.  Oh the desserts. I should preface this with my desire for a cannoli.  A cannoli is a Sicilian pastry with deep-fried outside and cool cream inside.  The memory of how these tasted fueled my finals week last quarter and since I landed in Rome, my thoughts continued to return to those of that yummy dessert.  Last week, on the directions of Archer, I finally got my cannoli and it was heavenly. 

But I wanted another.  So, seeing that Naples is closer to Sicily than Rome, my chances were good at finding on there as well.  Well, Rafaele promised to take us to the best patisserie in Naples, but reminded me that a cannoli was NOT Napolese.  So I asked what was.  He gave me two choices, baba or sfogliatella, then said he would just have to show me.  So into the bakery we both went and I thought he pointed to a cupcake looking thing (the baba) or a flaky, armadillo-looking pastry.  I chose the cupcake thingy (to be delivered to the seats outside the patisserie) and then out we went.  Rafaele looked at me, shaking his head and said, "I give you two choices and you choose the third." 

What?

Well, ends up, what I thought was the baba was actually on the row above the actually dessert (which looks like a twinkie).  So, with Rafaele translating, I remade my choice the armadillo, flaky thing: sfogliatella.  And man, am I glad I did.  A flaky, layered outer crust with cold ricotta cheese and pieces of candied citrus peel on the inside.  Heavenly.  Pure, yummy goodness.  My group thought it was hilarious the amount of delight I derived from the dessert, but it's hard not to get excited about everything here when EVERYTHING is new and wonderful.   

Our stroll to a bus to return to the train station turned into a mad run to the train station upon Rafaele's statement that it wasn't "too far."  I need to remember that in Italy, time and space mean nothing: fifteen minutes is an hour, just around the corner is three miles.  But, true citizen of Naples, Rafaele weaved us in and out of the crowd, grabbing are arms to stop us from stepping into wayward traffic.  He then got us our return tickes and bundled us safely onto the train.  Sweaty, legs-trembling from the jog, completely slap-happy and one of the best days of my life. 

But our night wasn't quite over even then.  Once we got back to Rome (around midnight), our initial plan of a taxi turned once more into "Eh...why don't we walk?"  And walk we did, the hour back to Trastevere.  I think we all were sleepwalking a bit, each sober and awake at a different point.  I can't say I remember the entire trip to home, but do know I thoroughly enjoyed myself.           

Total travel time: 20 hours.       

So, my pottery group cooks together in the evening, each person taking a different evening.  The food has been excellent (my growing belly is testament to this), so I thought I would share a few of the recipes.  Tonight's installment comes from my Croatian roommate Iris.  These weren't served together, as each is a meal in itself.

Iris's Summer Soup (from the area of Dalmatia)

3 cans of chick peas (600 grams)

3 fairly big leaks

1 whole garlic - the whole thing, not just a clove

olive oil - the better the oil, the better the taste

salt

black pepper

fresh parsley as garnish

parmesan

1. Put garlic on the olive oil in a cooking pot on gentle fire to toast it a bit (like a minute).

2. Cut the leaks in little slices and place in cooking pot (like 5 minutes).

3. Pour water over leaks and garlic (2 liters). Bring to a boil.  As soon as it boils, put on simmer.

4. After 15 minutes of simmering, add canned chick peas.  Give it a few more minutes of simmer.

5. Seasoning to taste.  

6. Add garnish of parsley and parmesan on top of each bowl. 

7. Serve. (Crusty bread is super good with it too with a nice crisp salad). 

Olio, aglio (pronounced funny) e pepperoncino

Spaghetti Noodles

Garlic (a lot!)

Salt

Dried Pepperoncino (a.k.a. red pepper flakes)

Olive Oil - the very best that you can find (Iris says it is forbidden to use any lower quality olive oil.  It isn't because she's a purist, but the taste you want to have is majorly because of olive oil).

(Cook your pasta). 

1. Slice garlic in thin slivers. Put them in oil on VERY gentle fire (First time I tried this, I barbecued the garlic.  Not good.  NOT GOOD.  FIRE MUST BE LOW).  Use more than usual olive oil (measurements don't work here, but Iris says garlic pieces have to "swim" in olive oil).    

2. After a few minutes, add pepperoncino.

3. After two minutes maybe or three, add already cooked pasta. 

4. Mix it gently.  Add some salt to taste. 

That's it. Bon Appetite!