This month (and life) is full of irony. For example, I was on a run recently and - just as I passed Castel Sant’Angelo, approaching St. Peter’s - ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ by the Stones began to play on shuffle. Mind you, I was wearing just a sports bra and joggers. Probably broke a few Vatican City rules there.
While a more mild example of irony in my life, you get the picture. It’s rather on point with this newsletter - embracing food, wine, and life unapologetically, no matter how (sinfully) ridiculous it gets!
That said, this past month has been full of fabulous post-Pasqua indulgences: eating and drinking fine examples of the classics - spoiler: lasagna - and things many would find untraditionally Italian. Despite what TikTok shows you, Italy is not all carbonara, gelato, and spritz in piazzas. Sorry to burst your bubble there.
On an orthodox note, I will say it is difficult to escape the holy trinity in Italy. No, I am not referring to any Vatican visits (besides my sacrilegious run). I’m talking bread, water, and wine.
This trinity is inescapable piece of the Italian table. Roman Catholics love their symbols, along with a good dinner spread (or so Netflix’s The Borgias tell us.) Did you know that in Catholic mass, the priest mixes holy water with wine before adding a bit of bread (‘the host’) to it?
Yup, the wine is diluted… I mean blessed! The water symbolizes humanity. The wine’s purpose? Here it is according to Pope Benedict XVI, the first Pope to resign in 598 years coincidentally on my birthday:
wine has to do with feasting with the fine things of creation
Well, Your Holiness, I can think of no better example than the chalice I received at lunch at Fraschetta Da Sandro for my lasagna feast.
Some call this a generous pour while many zii and nonni out there would say this is just a goccio di vino (a drop of wine.)
Truth is - wine really is the water of Italian history. Most of Italy’s super cool indigenous grape varietals were cultivated first by farmers who turned them into simple low-alcohol table wines consumed religiously at lunch and dinner.
Back in the day, there weren’t all these Britas and fancy water filtration systems. The wine was a lot more sanitary and reliable than water. Plus, imagine how great a glass of wine tastes after chasing sheep around all day.
And, no - no cherry coke zero for you Lenny, although many Italians go hard for a Coke Zero with lemon. I, on the other hand, will always choose bubbles with alcohol instead.
L'acqua fa male ed il vino fa cantare!
Water makes you sick while wine makes you sing!
- Italian Proverb
No Religion Without Music
The month of May is to celebrate more blasphemy and Brits than just Jude Law. It is my dear friend Ells’ birthday! She is the best Brit in Verona (though, she might be the only one.) The queen of sarcasm and cigarettes - she is a fabulous food partner and crime (unless there’s tartare involved.)
She also taught me that Brits call spaghetti bolognese a ‘spag bol’ or (more drunkenly) a ‘slag bol.’ Blew my mind, just as it did when I realized this girl can make a mean lasagna.
This photo encapsulates our friendship, and what is to come in this newsletter. To celebrate her, we collaborated on a little spag bol of a playlist. It’s Ells's rage baby for sure. Context: her last name is Boag, which - where I’m from in NJ - is a slang term for a cigarette. In other words, we were meant to find each other.
An Unexpected Event…
On May 9th, I teamed up with Amaro Bar and the chefs of Michelin-starred Venissa for the first AmaRAW of the year. It’s a fascinating event dedicated to raw foods and wines. It was sublime.
Two things I adored about this event -
First: It is one solid reminder that Italy is not just pasta or pizza. It’s a modern nation with incredible initiatives channeling the vibrancy and seasonality of the land.
Venissa isn’t only a restaurant - it’s its own island, dedicated to sustainability and education on the natural bounty of Venice. They forage, make wine, maintain on-site vineyards, tend their own gardens… may I go on? There’s a wine resort. It’s like the Stone Barns of Venice, but better (they have their own island, come on!)
Second: Every single person I worked with. Amaro Bar is literally my second home in Verona - you can eat, work, get drunk, eat pizza, and even nap there (don’t tell the owner Rafa I told you that.)
May’s Sluttiest Food Secrets
All essential for that ‘hot girl summer’ diet.
Lasagna del giorno - Fraschetta Da Sandro. This is a lunch secret I hesitated to reveal. Why? Because I’m greedy. I didn’t want to share the overfilled glasses of vino sfuso, giant portions of lasagna, and pre-covid level prices. But, I remembered that food is best shared, even if it’s over a newsletter. I love you Da Sandro - see you in a few.
All the COOKIES - Biscottificio Innocenti. A morning bout of low blood sugar was solved appropriately for this cookie monster. This bakery is a Roman institution, specializing in biscotti/cookies (like my favorite ciambelline al vino.) And, despite the theme of this newsletter, Innocenti is not named after Pope Innocent VIII notorious for his witch-hunting and mistresses.
Torta Ricotta e Visciole - Pasticceria Boccione. If I could eat this torta every morning for breakfast, I would. I could never get sick of warm ricotta and visciole (sour wild cherry jam), ever. It’s an iconic combo of Jewish-Roman cuisine. It’s best to go to this bakery on a weekday and/or earlier in the morning, if you despise queuing up like me (Wow, ‘queuing’ - Ells is really rubbing off on me…)
Grand finale: my favorite train snack…
While the Frecciarossa continues to deprive me of quality coffee, snacks, and money, I keep my hangry-ness at a minimum from Roma to Verona with my favorite snack...
Pizza Rossa from Antico Forno Roscioli. Yes, Roscioli is just beyond the level of basic b*tch places to go in Rome. But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t freaking delicious. Roscioli mastered all things pizza. Most importantly, it’s consistent. And, it matches my train. I now ride the pizzarossa.