You know how this goes.
After Holy Mass and a holy hour – there is something special about the quiet of a large space – I was after something to break my fast. Off to the famous Antico Forno at the Campo de’ Fiori.
On the way I stopped to chat with a couple of the flower vendors I’ve used for years. Yesterday one of them made a call and got some alstromeria for me. Knowing that, the next day another flower vendor called me over and he had it too. He had previously said that he didn’t like it so he didn’t stock it. I got a small bunch of a different color to incentivize and to boost my apartment’s bouquet. I digress. But it is the Campo de’ fiori after all.
There was a line at the bakery, as one would expect in the morning.
At the check out counter, there is a bottle of “extra virgin doggy oil”. Just kidding. Canino is a spectacularly beautiful place north of Rome.
Heading home with my score.
I bought a part of a loaf of casareccio and, instead of cornetti, I bought an old frenemy, a Roman rosetta.
In a couple of the clerical houses I’ve been in in Rome, breakfast always includes, invariably, a rosetta. If fresh, they are good. If not, they can be used for bocce or boules or, filled with explosives, combat, with lead, anchors.
They are hollow. You approach them by pulling out the center.
I like mine with butter and jam. It was a blast from the past. The occasional rosetta is great! Everyday for months on end… variety summons.
This confraternity church on the V. Giulia is getting help. What I cherish above all is the papal coat of arms over the door. That’s the custom in Rome: the pope’s arms and, if the church is assigned to a Cardinal, his arms.
Recognize this guy? Superb. I hope it is never removed except to be cleaned, preserved and put back into place.
A sad sight on the Via Giulia. You would think that, as venerated as St. Philip Neri is in Rome – co-patron with Peter! – as omnipresent as are his images and objects in Roman churches, there would be a church dedicated to him. Right? There sort of is/was.
This had the misfortune of standing between a bridge over the Tiber and the straight street leading to the Corso in front of the Chiesa Nuova. It had been a plan to bash down everything and connect them. The area between the river and V. Giula has been converted into parking lot.
While there is some interior space, I think being used by an architect, the façade is pretty much all there is.
Lunch with a friend at one of my usual places. This was spectacular. A pasta much like strozzapreti (actually ferretti) in a sauce of cream, zest of citrus fruits, salmon, shaved fennel and dill. Simple and superb. This is definitely on my to do list. The only problem to overcome at home will be the absence of panna da cucina, which is sort of like crème fraiche but… not. I have a cunning plan that will involve the reduction of heavy cream, perhaps with some of the agrumi zest. I have a couple of zesting tools that I bought in Tokyo that will do the trick. A drop of black truffle oil will not hurt this preparation at all. This is a great way to handle some left over salmon that isn’t – quod Deus avertat! – cooked to invincible insipid fibers.
This was a treat.
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Black to move.
Meanwhile, the bloodbath continues, which is discouraging.
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