Food Truck Fairs in Rome

 

What's not to love about olive offerings from... an olive?

While haunting the near-in suburban area of Tiburtina, off via Tiburtina. we saw signs one day for what looked like an upcoming food fair in Casal Bruciato, part of that area. Besides the neighborhood's memorable name ("burned farmhouse"), the idea of a suburban food fair, far from tourists, appealed to us.

We got there a bit early, before the crowds started to build, and had our pick of food.

Above, the '70s housing some would decry, looming over a few of the 30 or so food stands, offering everything from Mexican food (far right) to grilled almost anything (the arrosticino stand at left).

We delved into some reasonably-priced carciofi alla giudia (Jewish artichokes, one of our favorite Roman foods), complete with sangria from the Mexican stand--probably not a combination of which Romans would approve.

The early fair-goers were mainly families with children, even in the shadow of the beer tents ("Birra Crudo") and cocktail bars ("Aperi-time" - their shelves lined with colorful bottles of Campari and Aperol).

The most prominent advertising was on the porta-potties (photo below): TTS Food ("Hey you, get a move on, the food is waiting"...."Your order is ready...don't take too long."

Only in doing research for this post (yes, even food fairs and Casal Bruciato require some research) did we learn "TTS Food" stands for "Typical Truck Street Food." The enterprise is active all around Rome and its environs and has a schedule. This summer they were in a dozen Rome neighborhoods, including Garbatella, Monteverde, and Trastevere. (Website here.)

Although we didn't stay for the music (see below), we will next time. It is just a pleasure enjoying  Italian food with real Italians - far from the tourists (I wonder how it all works in Trastevere?).

Right, a trumpeter setting up.

Left, arrosticini on the grill - we had some of these too.

The BBQ stand, right, seems to have an identity problem - American or Italian?

Left, pasta in a cup - with the Roman classics.

Right, grilled octopus (or pizza if you are less adventurous).

Left, catching the bus back - never far from Giorgia Meloni.

Dianne

World War II German Round-Up Remembered in Rome's Quadraro

The wasp - symbol of Quadraro/Graffiti by Luca Maleonte

Contemporary Romans continue to wrestle with memories of World War II, particularly the 9-month occupation of Rome by the Nazis.  We are currently in a period of the 70th anniversary of many of the atrocities that occurred during that occupation, which ended on June 4, 1944, when the Allies marched into Rome as the Germans, having declared Rome an "Open City" the day before, retreated.

Two weeks ago, RST participated in a short march and ceremony in the old Rome suburb of Quadraro, as part of that community's commemoration of the Nazi rastrellamento (round up) of all able-bodied men in the neighborhood.  The round-up began at 4 a.m. on April 17, 1944, when the Germans sealed off the neighborhood.  It ended with about 2,000 men being taken to nearby Cinecitta' (which served as barracks for various purposes during and after the war), winnowed, and over 1,000 sent to German labor camps.  About half returned to Quadraro.

Banner from the "Nido di Vespe" section of the national partisans'
association (Anpi)

The community was targeted by the Germans because of its left-wing, anti-Nazi and anti-Fascist sympathies.  The Germans referred to it as a nido di vespe - or "wasps' nest."  And the community proudly carries that label today. (And, yes, americani, "Vespa" means "Wasp.")

Research into those missing began only about 30 years ago, 40 years after the war ended, and calls for the event to be included in history books continue to this day.  

Sculpture in the park: wife and child protecting man
from German soldier (left)

The march, complete with military band, went from an older war monument to a sculpture in a park specifically dedicated to April 17, 1944.  Representatives of the Mayor (who was billed as attending, but sent a representative) and other politicians and labor groups spoke.  The prior mayor, Gianni Alemanno, certainly would not have been in attendance at an event celebrating leftists and with the participation of partisan organizations.  

Bill thought the crowd, which he estimated at about 130 (excluding the band and police protection) to be substantial and heartening.  I thought the number was closer to about 40 (excluding also the speakers and their entourages), and disappointingly small. 

Sisto Quaranta, 88, recalls being awakened by German soldiers
on the morning of April 17, 1944 as he lay in bed -
when they pressed the handle of a
grenade launcher into his chest

In the crowd were some residents who were part of the rastrellamento and remember it well.  

Large crowd, or small? Heartening or disappointing?

The tragedy of the Fosse Ardeatine took place only 3 weeks before this round-up, and 6 weeks later the Germans had left Rome. 

 Dianne

Anpi scarf

Archeological finds hidden in plain sight: Ponte di Nona

In back, Rome's 9th mile bridge

If you drive out of the center of Rome 9 Roman miles on via Prenestina, one of the consular roads, you will encounter an amazingly intact piece of Roman architecture - the 9th mile bridge (Ponte di Nona).  The 7 arches of the bridge make it more of a viaduct, according to some historians of Roman history.  What amazed us, though, was simply that it's still there, doing its job.  The most we could find on it was that it was built in Rome's Republican period (the last 5 centuries BC).  It is, of course, one of many, many bridges the Romans built over waterways, including over the Danube.  It stands out as one of the few so well preserved.  Nine Roman miles is about 8 miles, or 13 kilometers.

a good view of the 7 arches

The space under the bridge now is used mainly by an outdoor store

Romans seem to associate "Ponte di Nona" almost exclusively with unrestrained suburban growth, since it now is the name of a quarter of Rome, and home to one of the largest ex-urban shopping centers, Roma Est.  Of course, being RST, we find all of this interesting, especially in its mash-up: Roman ruins, Roman bridge still in use, outdoor store, blighted new suburbs.

not so attractive suburban growth in Ponte di Nona

Dianne

Suburban Surreal: Parco Leonardo

It was "Giorno della Mamma," Mother's Day (BTW, a creation of President Woodrow Wilson) and Dianne's reward for 38 years of Motherhood was a series of international films showing at Parco Leonardo's Hollywood-style mega multiplex, whose sleek, football-field size lobby is shown at right. Getting there was easy--a 20 minute train-ride from the Ostiense station--and the cinema tickets were cheap at less than E4 per film. We went to three films with short breaks between, all subtitled in English, and two (LOSS [Lithuania] and TEARS of APRIL [Finland])were of considerable merit. All three films, and the festival generally, were sparsely attended (our films averaged about 6 people per screening). Of course, it was Mother's Day.

Having arrived at the Parco (named after da Vinci) early, we toured the suburban development, which might be described as a high-rise, grid-based Pleasantville, with a dash of West World. These could be the cleanest streets in all of Lazio, but also the most surreal, partly because they're not really streets, since cars are kept at the perimeter, and most Romans arrive, like us, by train. Although many of Parco Leonardo's large apartment buildings have commercial space on the ground floor (in typical Italian fashion), most of the stores are empty BECAUSE THEY BUILT A 2-STORY MALL NEXT DOOR--smart, huh?
Because the streets are so empty (the Mothers were all inside we suppose), any human activity looks weird. Case in point, the guy having a bite to eat at right, looking as if he were on the set of a Fellini movie.

Of the businesses that do exist, inside and outside the mall, one of favorite motifs is the Wild West (that isn't a misprint).
Our thought was that this would be nice for the kids, but by nightfall both of these places were jammed--one had people waiting outside to get in--with adults. Coincidentally, the ladies strolling
on the street at Parco Leonardo (below) had the look of gunslingers heading for trouble in a Kansas cow town.

The massive advertising display at the top of this post reads: "At Parco Leonardo, it's all about you."

One of Parco Leonardo's pecularities is that the rail station by which it is served has no stand to buy tickets and no machines that function (true both times we've made the trip). So if you got there, but don't have a ticket back, you're screwed (which means you get on the train without a ticket and grit your teeth hoping you don't get caught and fined). Bill