The first trip I ever “sent myself” on was to New York City to visit my favorite aunt. I was 12 or 13 years old—took a super cheap flight on the short-lived Big Apple Airlines. (A couple kids I knew ran away from home on the $39 fares.) We had to be driven the 72 miles to Raleigh/Durham airport for the flight to Newark, but mom never complained (to us, anyway ;) ).
My aunt took us for many great restaurant visits during that trip. At one Italian place in New Jersey, being the good southern boy that I was, I ordered an iced tea. The waitress honestly and with a straight face asked me if I wanted a Long Island Iced Tea-- remember I am 13 years old-- “That’s a no”, said my aunt.
During that week we hit Little Italy, ate at an authentic Jersey diner (even took a famous New Jersey jug handle to get to it), had New York pizza, dined in Chinatown, had bagels, ate dirty water hot dogs from a street vendor. And she took us to Tavern on the Green in Central Park. Being an adventurous eater even then, I ordered a steamed artichoke as my first course. I had no idea how to eat it, but anything served with hollandaise sauce sounded good and my aunt showed me how. A foodie was born that day.
A few years later, at 17 years old I saved money and sent myself to Italy on the Latin Club class trip…yes, I was the Vice President of the Latin Club once. (Semper ubi sub ubi, peeps!). I knew then and there that I loved to travel and that I would be back to Rome. The three coins I tossed into the Trevi Fountain assured it.
We stopped there on our post-college graduation trip, but then it was many, many years later when we finally made it back to Rome together. That was last year when I joined my beautiful bride on a business trip (hers) back in Rome for a long weekend. It was springtime. We again had limited time but big plans. We would see several museums and have some great food.
A Roman colleague made some recommendations on his favorite local places. We chose one just inside the Porta Portese and gave it a shot. Long taxi ride (in my mind thinking “how will we get a taxi back?”).
We walk in at 8pm on a Friday night. Simple place, not fancy at all, with cinder block walls, wooden tables and stone floors. Mama in the kitchen cooking. The place is….empty. Uh-oh. Two things make me want to leave a restaurant: too busy and too slow. But, we were there, taxi was gone, so we greeted the owner and asked to be seated. “Do you have a reservation?” Huh? “The place is E-M-P-T-Y!!!”, I was thinking. He studied his book and after a long pause, said, “OK, follow me.” He seated us in the empty dining room, and handed us our menus.
Wow, what a treat. Before the first course was out, the place was packed with Romans out for dinner. Big families enjoying a night together. We had a great meal, and a few things stand out. First, the pasta course was Cacio e pepe. Pasta with pecorino romano ewes milk cheese and black pepper. So simple and so very good:
Next course was the Carciofi fritti. Just a deep fried whole artichoke. But amazing in it’s simplicity.
Last great memory from that night is at the end of our meal, the owner insisted on serving us an aperitif on the house: Elisir Gambrinus. It is made of Raboso Piave grappa, cane sugar and herbs. Aged in oak barrels for 5 years. This is good stuff.
Next day, we followed our instincts and found another great Roman meal at nice family run place between the Pantheon and Piazza Navona. Owned and run by two brothers (Fabio and Vincenzo), they explained they just recently purchased it and they could not have been more proud of their business. For good reason. I will write another time about the fantastic pizzas we ate there–she with mushrooms, me with anchovies—all I will say now is I have been back.
On this visit, we started with another artichoke—steamed and served in a wine sauce. Again, simply prepared and delicious.
I wonder who the first person to eat this pre-historic looking vegetable was, and what in the world made them think it was edible. Must have been a Roman, and they have been perfecting it ever since.
