If You Can't Stand the Heat

Friday morning, July 14, Fred and I drove to the Orte train station, about 20 minutes away. From here, the train to Rome is 30 minutes—a far cry from the 2+ hour 24-stops train from Viterbo to Rome. And parking’s only one and a half euros a day. We got to Rome, walked over to the Metro part of the station, and took a train to Lepanto, the closest stop to our place in Piazza Cavour. We’ve stayed here before and loved it. It’s in an area called Prati that is more of a neighborhood than many other areas of Rome. Run by an American woman with a great personality. Art Seven in case anyone’s planning a trip.  http://www.artsevenroma.it/en/  Book directly. Always book directly for best price and amenities. Tell Sabrina I sent you.

One sign of civilization in my opinion, is letting people off elevators, trains and buses, BEFORE boarding. You won’t see this happening in Italy. Hordes of people rush to the open doors of the train while the people on it panic to get off. It’s utter madness. The only people you hear muttering about it are tourists.  We got on this terribly packed car, any place for me to hold too far out of reach. But it wasn’t necessary because the people were so tight around me I couldn’t have fallen if I had wanted to.

The place is about a 15-20 minute walk. A bit annoying with our huge suitcase. At least we bring only one, but still, it feels foolish to spend a weekend away with a gigantic suitcase. We chilled in the apartment — actually napped even though we’d done nothing but get up and get there — and then took off to explore. I frankly can’t remember where we went then, but we did end up with a drink at a bar back in our ‘hood. Piazza Cavour has a very tropical look with really tall palm trees. There’s a huge municipal building the full length of one side, outside of which are armed military guys. Lots of areas of the city were guarded by trucks and armed guards. A little unnerving but paradoxically a comforting presence.

Piazza Cavour

Piazza Cavour & Fiat 500 & Palm

Happy "Our" at the GranCaffe.

The dressmaker's shop is on the ground floor of our B&B.

Dinner… Here’s our first story of this year’s Rome visit. After much research to find a non-touristy dinner spot, we decided on Su & Gui (Up & Down), as in “two floors.”  We made the reservations Thursday from Viterbo. I did not see any photos on line of outdoor seating, so I did not mention our preference to be outside, which I usually do. We arrived at 9 to a full restaurant and were brought upstairs. There were five tables. Only one occupied so far, by an Australian couple. With every step we took up those stairs our hearts sunk lower. The heat emanating from that room had the intensity of something in hell. We sat there and immediately began dripping. Another young Chinese couple came and sat and seemed to say to each other with their wide-eyed stares, WHAT THE HELL??????  They can’t expect us to stay here and eat!?  We noticed the two waitresses exchange a glance and look up at the completely useless air conditioner wall unit. The windows were shut and curtained. I said to Fred, how can we do this? I just want to order and eat as fast as we can and get the hell out of here!  That’s no way to spend our time and money. Then three Italians came up.  A couple and an extra guy. The extra guy might have been cranky to start since he didn’t have the girl, so the heat really put him over the edge. He kept fanning himself with his menu and looking around. Joked that he would call the restaurant from this weird wall phone and tell them it’s too hot. By now we have ordered, committed to staying and not being the ugly Americans who can’t take the heat. But then the Italian guy went downstairs. Seconds later he called his friends to come down too. They were given a table on the first floor. Another world. I decided SCREW this not wanting to complain. The only suckers still up here are tourists!!!!!  We are the only losers who would put up with this. So I went down and told our waitress, I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to enjoy our meal because of the heat upstairs. She said she’d open the windows…. I said, where did those other guys go? Right there — last table in the place…. I said, What about outside? She said no, those tables are all full. So she did come up and open the windows. Another Asian family of four came and seemed not to notice the heat, maybe because the windows did help. But it was still horrible. Like a C- instead of an F.  The food, however, was an A.  That, and one other aspect of the night didn’t suck. The other thing was the Asian family of four chewing with their mouths open. I found it just hilarious because at this point I was slap happy.  In their culture the more noise you make, the more you enjoy the food. It shows appreciation to the chef. It’s just so different from our culture that it cracked me up. They REALLY liked the food!

This was homemade pasta, sausage, tomato & pecorino.

Twenty four hours later, I said to Fred, I wish we could do last night over. I would have made the reservation for outdoors. Those people had a totally different experience than we did… and the food was so good. So, that we did! I went back in person and tapped on the closed front door because I could see the old lady chef/owner sitting there. She ignored me.  But I persisted. I called on the phone and a young worker picked up. I saw her pick up, tapped on the window and said,  Sono qui, a la porta. I am here, at the door.  (I think.) She looked startled and a little spooked but hung up and opened the door.  Our waitress from last night joined her. I made a reservation (she remembered us and understood we liked the food but not the table) and we were back at nine to eat outside. While we were there, an American couple was moved from inside to outside — literally, they were being given a table from inside, carried outside. Why could they not have done this for us last night? The food was good, staff lovely, owner/chef still pretty grouchy-looking.  

The chef/owner. Yeah, it's too freakin hot in there!

The night prior, they had given us complimentary biscotti for dessert. I thought maybe tonight they’d give us some limoncello, too. You know — for giving them another chance. Ha. Fat chance. If they had, I would have been able to erase Friday night forever, but no.

All in all, I’m glad we went back. By the way, our other restaurant choice was closed. It must sound crazy to eat at the same place twice in Rome, but we have failed so very many times to choose a good one and not an overpriced-English-on-the-menu-surrounded-by-loud-mouthed-Americans-tourist-trap. So this really was the right route for us.

More later — I just remembered what it was we did that afternoon after our nap!