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High maintenance

24 Feb
I’ve been meaning to write about the odd assortment of pedicures I have had in Italy. It took me a few appointments to finally settle into a salon and services that I could enjoy and where the results are good, but the journey has been interesting….
Nail salons are important here. In fact, every type of personal appearance maintenance is very important: nails, hair, massage, waxing — esthetics of every kind. Many women have their nails done, both hands and feet, on a regular basis. After all, one must maintain la bella figura. One of my favorite bloggers, Mozzarella Mamma, did a wonderful post on the female beauty scene  http://www.mozzarellamamma.com/2011/linguini-and-luscious-legs/ . Go ahead, read it, laugh out loud, then come back to finish reading this post. I’ll wait.
Welcome back; now on to my own experiences.  I am addicted to pedicures-as-therapy and have been for years. Ric will tell you that my personal maintenance is a line-item in the household budget. It’s certainly cheaper than psychotherapy.
My Italian salon adventures started in Sorrento when we were on vacation over a year ago. Mid-vacation I wanted a pedicure. We were tromping about Italy to the tune of 6-10 miles a day. My toes needed a little pampering and I was looking forward to a strong leg massage.  Ric was looking forward to two hours of my absence so he could take a nap. I asked the concierge at our hotel to recommend a place, and he pointed me to a nearby salon: “It’s where the general manager’s wife goes.” Good enough for me.  Ha!
Arriving at the salon, I was led down a narrow, steep stairway to a dim cubicle in the basement. I was seated in a straight-backed chair on a platform and the nail tech had me place my tootsies in a plastic basin of tepid water.  No comfy vibrating chair, no swirling whirlpool of warm, scented bubbles to sooth my tired feet: just tepid water. In December. From there the treatment proceeded on course with what one might expect until we got to the “massage:” a half-hearted application of lotion. Ric does a better foot massage for me when he’s half asleep. Then it took a turn for the worse:  No lovely, shiny, top coat seal-of-protection for my newly painted digits. When asked, the nail tech had no idea what I was talking about. By the time I returned to the hotel, my polish was already scuffed.  €30.00 flushed, and not exactly una bella figura.
Arriving in Rome last May, I sought out a recommended salon near the Embassy. Based on Mozzarella Mamma’s post, I figured Roman salons would meet my expectations. This one did a good job including a whirlpool footbath, comfy chair, decent massage, used some of the best polishes made, perfect top coat; but very expensive.  I’d need to shop around. 
A few weeks later, I moved on to Salon #2, conveniently located on my commute home.  Again with the tepid basin of water. This nail tech explained that warm water was bad for my feet. Huh. Following the no-massage massage there was NO TOP COAT. “Signora, if I put on more polish they will never dry.” Listen? Do you hear the sound of €35 being flushed? The polish dried, but again it scuffed on the way home. 
Returning to the high-end salon, I was assigned the resident Amazon, a muscular lass of about 6’2” (remember the man-hands episode on “Seinfeld?”) who proceeded to cut my cuticle so deep I bled into the swirling whirlpool foot bath and styptic powder was required. (Her strong hands gave a heck of a massage, though.)  Nice nails, but a nasty cut. So maybe a high-end hotel would do the trick. I hit Salon #3 on Via Veneto. 
Escorted to a quiet and luxurious treatment room, I was instructed to lie on a massage table and make myself comfortable. “We’re doing a pedicure?” (I asked just to make sure I wasn’t supposed to be naked at this point. In Italy one never knows.)  “Si, signora, just relax.” The tech brought, guess what? A bowl of tepid water to the table, bent my legs and situated my feet in said plastic basin of tepidness. Yup, I’m really relaxed now, with my knees in the air and my feet in tepid water.  Really happy I wore a skirt so I could maximize my exposure. At least they used a top coat so the polish lasted.  
So I have returned to the high-end place by the Embassy, where I have settled into a routine of dependable service, nice people, un caffè while I soak, and no more injuries to date. Sometimes there’s even a little dog in the lap of the woman seated next to me. I like that. The price of pampering can be high, as is the price of maintaining one’s bella figura.

A different sort of New Year’s Eve

1 Jan
It was actually quite a thrill to see the Pope in person!

It was actually quite a thrill to see the Pope in person!

Our friends and relatives know we are not usually partiers on New Year’s Eve. Our Portland routine was take-and-bake pizza from Papa Murphy’s, a great bottle of wine, and a movie from Netflix. No way we want to be out driving on NYE! Oh, there have been a couple of private parties over the years, maybe trivial Pursuit with Barry and Veronica, and in 2011 we were flying home to Portland from our vacation in Italy on 31 December, but usually we are very low-key. So low-key that we have occasionally “missed” the turn of the year because we were already asleep. Quite pathetic. 

Allora things have changed a bit for us in our new life! We started the evening — really in mid-afternoon — heading to St. Peter’s Basilica for 5:00PM vespers with il Papa. This is a ticketed (free, but still ticketed) event and we were fortunate to receive them courtesy of the Embassy.  Arriving about 3:45PM, we were able to get seats not-too-far-off the main aisle.  A few thousand (seriously a lot of people) were seated inside St. Peter’s and, as you see on TV, giant screens in the square allowed the non-ticketed to watch outdoors, standing.

It was beautiful and very exciting for this Swedish-Lutheran girl from St. Paul Minnesota to attend a service

The magnificent Basilica San Pietro, with a few thousand people.... and us!

The magnificent Basilica San Pietro, with a few thousand people…. and us!

in St. Peter’s, presided over by the Pope himself! Very moving to see the excitement ripple through the crowd, the little nuns standing on chairs to try for a view, the security people unsuccessfully trying to dissuade such indecorous behavior. Here are a few photos I snapped to try to give you a feel for the evening.  I wish you could hear the magnificent male choir in four-part harmony, singing the Latin service. Post vespers (a 90+ minute service), we wandered home through the busy streets and via tram.  But there was more to come this year!

The crowd gathers in St. Peter's Square before New Year's Eve vespers.

The crowd gathers in St. Peter’s Square before New Year’s Eve vespers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In anticipation of seeing il Papa, even the nuns stand on the chairs. The excitement was palpable.

In anticipation of seeing il Papa, even the nuns stand on the chairs. The excitement was palpable.

 

Most of our friends & family know we used to dine quite early in Portland. 7:00PM was getting “late” as a starting time for dinner out. If you have read this blog for a while, you know we have become more Italian in our dining hour: a self-defense move in summer to avoid the heat, and any time as most decent restaurants are only open after 7:30 or 8:00PM.  (Even at home on a week night we don’t eat until at least 8:00PM.) And if you show up at 8:00PM in a restaurant, you may well be dining almost alone with a few other Americans, Brits and Germans.  But I digress….

We had a 10:00PM reservation at a place that is perhaps a 12-15 minute walk from our place. Yes, a 10:00PM start. The location, close to home, is significant because all of the buses in Rome stopped running at 9:00PM on New Year’s Eve. 9:00PM!!  We can only conjecture, but we think the crowds are just too intense in the main piazzas and on the main streets to allow free passage of the buses. And then there are the fireworks….

So we went to a fine little neighborhood place, good fish, nice crowd, everyone quite dressed-up. Suits on the men (somewhat extraordinary in our Roman dining experiences), cocktail attire on some of the women. We were a bit under-dressed as it turns out, although in Portland we would have been over dressed. [Note to self: Next year make Ric wear a suit on NYE, and I’ll wear the sparkly jewelry.] At least I put on make-up for a change.

On our walk to dinner — indeed even before — we heard some fireworks being set off. Big, booming, morter-shell-sounding fireworks. All through dinner smoke drifted up the street in front of the restaurant as the occasional bottle-rocket or whatever was set off. A few minutes before midnight, so as to avoid the party-hats being passed out in the restaurant, we paid the bill and exited to an ever-increasing barrage of fireworks. And when the clock struck 12 , all hell broke loose throughout Rome from what we could see and hear.  From behind us, ahead of us,

Stole this one from the website of one of the newspapers.... This is how our neighborhood looked.

Stole this one from the website of one of the newspapers…. This is how our neighborhood looked.

and all sides, we heard and saw fireworks that absolutely had to be illegal, but were quite thrilling! As we climbed the hill to our apartment, displays appeared from neighborhoods across the Tiber, as well as off balconies and rooftops right on our street. Standing at Piazza della Muse, we can look out over the northern reaches of Rome and we could see fireworks (Ric says) all the way to Viterbo! This celebration made anything we have ever experienced on the 4th-of-July in the U.S. seem miniscule by comparison. The noise from every quarter was enormous! Right across the street, from the penthouse of a 6-story building, a rather professionally-executed display was going on when we arrived home about 12:15 and went on another 15 minutes after we arrived. At the Catholic church across the street, a group of grade-school children were accompanied by a few adults to wave sparklers and set off firecrackers. Although we were a bit concerned when one of the priests tucked a wad of sparklers behind a pipe running up the side of the church and set them off. (Ric hoped it wasn’t a gas pipe.)  But then quiet: By 12:45AM it was over, at least as far as we could hear from inside the apartment. And the cats came out from under the bed.  Buon Anno, tutti!

Christmas Report

26 Dec

My intentions regarding this blog are often higher than my ability to meet my own expectations. I envisioned posting my Christmas Eve photos that night, after we arrived home. But it was midnight and I tumbled into bed.

The magnificent Church of Santa Susanna. There has been a place of worship here since 330 A.D.

The magnificent Church of Santa Susanna. There has been a place of worship here since 330 A.D.

We started La Vigilia di Natale as temporary Catholics, attending the lovely Church of Santa Susanna, seat of the American Catholic Church in Rome. We’ve been to a couple of services in churches lately where everything was in Italian (or Swedish if you saw my post about the children’s concert), so it was almost a surprise to walk through the door and hear singing in American-accented English.  Following church, about 20:30, it was already very quiet in the streets. The buses were half-empty and moving fast, the drivers enjoying freedom from the usual overwhelming auto traffic. Another Christmas miracle: a young man (French) gave me his seat on the bus. While it was a sweet gesture, I am a little sensitive to him thinking I am old and needed to sit. I prefer to think he was simply kind. And so we meandered through the streets of Rome by foot and bus, to our favorite trattoria.

We ate at this restaurant last Christmas Eve as well. In fact we have been dining here since our first trip in 2010 and go at least once a month, often more. We are regulars and warmly greeted. The feast on Christmas Eve is always fish and wine was included in the prezzo fisso menu.  Since it was looonnngg holiday meal, we managed to drain our included bottle during the first two courses.  So they opened another for us. An advantage to being regulars: no extra charge.

The antipsato course: smoked salmon, cured anchovies, seafood salad, steamed mussels and more.

The antipasto course: smoked salmon, cured anchovies, seafood salad, steamed mussels and more.

The Primi were a seafood risotto and a lovely mixed seafood pastes.

The primi were a seafood risotto and a lovely mixed seafood pasta.

The secondo was a lovely whole steamed fish, succulent and tender, accompanied by tiny fried whole fish.

The secondo was a lovely whole steamed fish, succulent and tender, accompanied by tiny fried whole fish.

My intention was to do a photo essay of my magnificent Christmas Day feast, but I forgot to take a picture of the golden, juicy turkey before carving, and failed to take a picture of our glorious table.   Our menu included an array of Mediterranean and Italian antipasti, followed by our crazy-expensive Italian turkey, stuffing with sausage & apples & raisins, sweet potato casserole, ratatouille and cranberries. For the first time in about 25 years I had to buy canned cranberries (available at the embassy’s commissary) because fresh berries were >$11.00 for a 10 ounce bag in the Italian market! We topped the meal with a homemade pear crostata. Our guest was a young man from the embassy who was highly entertaining and who has excellent taste in wine. Grazie, Ben!

Today is yet another holiday, Santo Stefano. Today we must get out and exercise. Never left the apartment yesterday except to go to the courtyard with our guest! I am a few miles behind and a few thousand calories ahead of plan.

Tacchino per Natale

24 Dec
My first Italian turkey, fresh from the macellaria (butcher) weighs in at 7.5 kilos. Never frozen, has not seen the inside of plastic wrap, most likely butchered yesterday.  This is tomorrow's dinner!

My first Italian turkey, fresh from the macellaria (butcher) weighs in at 7.5 kilos. Never frozen, has not seen the inside of plastic wrap, most likely butchered yesterday. This is tomorrow’s dinner!

Cross-Cultural Experience

9 Dec

Last night we attended

As is tradition all over teh world, a girl is chosen to play Santa Lucia and wear her crown of candles.

As is tradition in Scandinavia, a girl is chosen to play Santa Lucia and wear her crown of candles and red sash.

…a Swedish children’s concert in celebration of Santa Lucia (whose feast day is Dec. 13)

…sung by a children’s choir from La Chiesa di Svezia (The Swedish Church), which is Roman Catholic
 

…held on the day Italians celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception

…in a German Lutheran Church (the only Lutheran Church in Rome)

Half of the service was in Swedish, half in Italian.  It was sweet! I recognized a lot of the music from my Minnesota Swedish Lutheran upbringing.

Not your average Lutheran Church.... This one is German, the only Lutheran Church in Rome, built in the early 20th century.

Not your average Lutheran Church…. This one is German, the only Lutheran Church in Rome, built in the early 20th century.

The chorus ranged form 4 or 5 year-olds to teenagers, boys and girls.

The chorus ranged from 4 or 5 year-olds to teenagers,both boys and girls.

The Swedish ex-pats here, both from the diplomatic community and those who have married Italians,  support a lively Swedish language program to keep in touch with their heritage. There was a Swedish Christmas market last weekend at La Chiesa Svezia.Chorus by candlelight. Sweet sweet singing all in Swedish.