We are not in Rome this week. We in the states to drop the Teenager off for his first year at the Berklee College of Music in a few days.
A few years ago I saw a quote on Pinterest about how you have 940 Sundays from when your child is born until they turn 18. We are now down to the last Sunday.
Sometimes social media feels kind of silly. Right now your Facebook feed is probably filled with people dumping buckets of ice over their heads. It can be hard to cut through the noise of cat videos, depressing news stories and the endless pictures of other people's children. But, sometimes social media is an amazing thing. A few years ago through social media I met a wonderful group of people who live (mostly) in Rome. We get together in person when we can for gin cocktails in pretty places and talk regularly on Twitter and Instagram.
One of these social media pals has just embarked on an exciting adventure. English Kate and her Roman husband Angelo have just opened a restaurant called Pepper. On a sultry August evening, just days before Ferragosta we headed toward Pigneto to give it a try.
When we get in the car to head back to Rome after a trip away we rarely stop. No detours for roadside farm stands or ceramic stores, just a quick stop at an Autogrill for coffee and gas and we are back on our way.
Last month we were dragging our feet, not wanting the week spent on the Amalfi and Cilento coast to end so when traffic was a little slow on the two lane SS18 near Paestum and there was a recommendation from a very wise pal on Facebook we decided to stop at Caseificio Rivabianca for some fresh buffalo mozzarella to bring back to Rome with us.
We were immediately sidetracked by the gelato case at the front door.
We almost turned around and got back in the car. It looked like chaos. It was a Sunday afternoon after all. We took a deep breath and then we took a number. Before we could get that tantalizing gelato I was instructed we had to finish our cheese shopping. Soon I was choosing fresh cheese and smoked cheese and buffalo sausages. I think I got one of everything. Finally, we moved to the gelato case and were served enormous scoops of what might be the best gelato I have ever had.
The Rivabianca gelato is obviously made from fresh buffalo milk. The texture was creamier than regular gelato with rich, clean flavors. We tried ricotta e pere, chocolate, pistachio with just barely a crunch of pistachio dust.
This was one delicious detour.
We are creatures of habit, rarely going somewhere new once we have figured something out and decided that we like it. Life in Rome can sometimes be exhausting and chaotic. Going somewhere where we know what to expect is a relaxing counterpoint.
But. Going out of your comfort zone is really what life is about right? So when Elizabeth and Domenico joined us for a week in Positano last month we promised to try a few new things.
August in Rome has changed from when we first arrived nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen summers ago. More shops and restaurants stay open throughout the month. More people seem to be taking their vacations in July and generally, there is just a lot more happening. The days of completely empty streets, shuttered storefronts, and having the city to yourself, (not to mention all that parking) seem to have slowly disappeared.
That said things do quiet down and places are closed for at least part of the month. Here is a roundup of lists of where to eat, find a dentist, get your hair cut and see a movie in Rome in August.
Star stylist Annette Joseph's visit to Rome last month has been very well documented. We kept her busy with breakfasts and lunches, dinners and shopping in the few short days she was in town visiting her friends Elizabeth and Jeannette. We spent her last hour in in Rome at a place I consider an old standby, Cul de Sac near Piazza Navona.
When you are the mother of a musician you sit through a lot of bad recitals. You endure hours (and hours) of tedious scale practice. After a while, if you are lucky, it starts to pay off. Your musician improves and so do the others that play with them. Years of squeaky clarinet solos and middle school boys banging on drums in your back room starts to pay off. The scales turn into Chopin and the banging and noise music transform into actual songs.
For most kids music is a hobby. An extracurricular to round out a college application. For my kid it became so much more than than that. A few years ago his ambition needed a bigger outlet than the back bedroom in our Roman apartment. He found it at a small Irish pub just up the road called The Fiddlers Elbow.
When I was growing up in eastern Tennessee my family took mountain vacations to Gatlinburg and beach vacations to South Carolina and Florida. We rented cabins in the mountains and beach cottages on Isle of Palms. On what always seemed like the never ending drive through Florida we often stayed in old fashioned motor inns. Simple places where you parked the car in front of the room. Places with sandy palm tree gardens just a few steps from the sugary sand and blue water that we did not have at home. Sadly almost none of these places exist today, erased by uniformity or overwrought renovations.
At the end of our most recent week in Positano we decided to take an extra day to return to Rome and head further south to an area of Italy known as the Cilento.The Cilento coast could not be more different than the nearby Amalfi Coast. The Cilento coast has wide sandy beaches, flat agricultural land that make for very happy water buffaloes, simple beach cottages and the very lovely La Locanda del Mare.
