Jewish pizza ("pizza ebraica"): Not your (Italian) grandmother's pizza

Joining the line, including two Giro d'Italia bicycle race competitors, for Jewish pizza on a Sunday morning (before the race started).

Once in a while RST takes a break from heavy-duty philosophy, modern architecture, history, and churches for food, yes, food... especially sweets, say I.

One of our favorite stops is for "Jewish pizza" (pizza ebraica)  in Rome's historic Jewish ghetto.  The photo above shows you nearly the entire retail space of the bakery at via Portico di Ottavia, No. 1.  If you blink, you won't even notice it.  The name, I'm told, thanks to Katie Parla, is Pasticceria “Boccione” Limentani.  I've never seen a sign with the name on it,  but you don't need to know the name to pop in the corner door.

That's the Jewish pizza they're weighing there; sold by the gram/kilogram.  It's like a heavy, warm (eat it right when you get it) fruitcake.   Looks pretty burned and perhaps not edible.  Do not be deterred; it tastes great.

As you can see, the bakery sells other goodies as well.  Katie waxes eloquent about the biscottini on her blog.

The hours are not ideal for most tourists, since it's a kosher bakery.  So not open Saturdays or Friday nights, or Jewish high holidays.  Generally closed as well the last 3 weeks of August and 2-4 p.m. in summer.

They also run out of goods.

Our recommendation:  don't make it a destination; just stop in if you're in the neighborhood and get - and eat - something.

Dianne

The Stones of Rome

If you've been in Rome more than 15 minutes, you've noticed that many of the streets are paved with square black stones--very "picturesque." Here we have some pidgeons having an early morning pizza on this picturesque surface.

The stones are called sanpietrini (little Saint Peters--a reference to their use in the early 18th century in St. Peter's square, after the coach carrying the Pope nearly tipped over), and they have an inverted-pyramid shape that resembles a molar. They're a bit like icebergs, with most of their bulk below the surface. To give you some idea of an average-size sanpietrino, I asked Dianne to hold one in her hand (below right).

According to Fulvio Abbate's Roma, a "non-conformist guide to the city" (one of our favorite books when we can understand it), these paving blocks first appeared in the 16th century, to facilitate the smooth movement of carts through the streets. Having suffered through kilometer upon kilometer of sanpietrini on the back of a scooter known to have a rather stiff rear-end suspension (that's the scooter's rear-end we're talking about), Dianne isn't so enamoured of the "smooth" ride these blocks of basalt are presumed to produce. And, as every scooter driver knows, and as bicycle racer Denis Menchov discovered on a straightaway in the final kilometer of the last time trial of the Giro d'Italia, with the Coliseum in view and the finish line--and glory--around the curve, dampened sanpietrini are, well, really, really slippery. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYUfYzHEjdc

If Dianne were mayor every street that we ride on would be dependable asphalt. But she isn't, and so we now and then can take pleasure in watching a sanpietrino (also the word for a craftsman who installs the blocks) ply his centuries-old trade (video below from Piazza del Gesu'). Rome's artists, too, have found the streets of sanpietrini the stuff of inspiration, as we discovered one evening at a small gallery in Ostiense (left), where Giovanni Liberatore was showing his sensuous, closeup photos of wet and oily pavement.

And, for the time being--until Dianne gets her way--Romans will now and then pick up a loose one, take it home, and use it for a doorstop. Bill

Capital Days

In a few days stretch recently, Rome hosted a G-8 meeting, was the scene of the world soccer championship finals, had a big national holiday (Republic Day, June 2), and was the last stage of the classic Italian bicycle tour (Giro d'Italia - photo at right near the beginning in front of the Vittoriano, in Piazza Venezia, with the rain just starting), celebrating its 100th year. Being visitors, and not having to get to and from work or figure out what to do with our kids on a holiday, we enjoy the hubbub (tho' it did upset my plans that Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi was in town today, closing down the Capitolini museums). Rome usually overreacts (in our HO) to all these events, closing more streets, businesses, and venues than it seems to us they need to, becoming an "armed city," as the papers say, and frustrating everyone.

Rome surprised us for the Giro d'Italia by being organized and yet not overly protective. In fact, we were shocked at how close we - and everyone else - could get to the riders, how easily anyone could cross the route, how friendly some of the police guarding the route were, and how fun it all was. The last stage was a time trial - so the riders went off at 1 and then 2 minute intervals. (Photo at right - police motorcycle escorts pulling out of the pool to run in advance of a rider; bottom of Trajan's column across the street.) For people who weren't that interested, we spent almost 3 hours watching the riders at various places, including turns and wet cobblestones (the winner, Russian Menchov, fell near the end - just out of our sight). It's a lovely sight to see Rome as the backdrop (and ground) for an exciting race; it shows off the city at its best (photo at left, rider coming off the Pincio - and several hairpin curves) into Piazza del Popolo).

The few photos here give some semblance of that feeling. (Photo below left, rider on via del Corso; below 2nd left, merchandise van - the winner of each stage wears a pink shirt (and, no, Mom didn't buy her the stuffed animal with Giro logo); last photo, bottom right, nearing the home stretch.) Dianne