Rome is called The Eternal City and here’s why: You are walking along a narrow street in “God knows where” which is a location you will find yourself in all over Rome, when suddenly you see the cornerstone of a building in which is chiseled “MCDXV”. You realize after consulting your handy guidebook that those letters translate to “1415”, which is over 600 years ago! Good grief! That was 77 years before Columbus even set sail! Michelangelo was only 24 years old that year and working on his “Pieta” and 200 years before the invention of gin by Dr. Fransiscus de Silvius in the Netherlands.
Then you look up and you see lights on inside and people working at their desks shuffling papers in an office and you realize that this very building has likely been occupied, non-stop, daily, for six centuries by roughly 20 generations of office workers just like these folks.
Rome’s foundations were laid on the Palatine Hill, one of the fabled seven hills of that city, sometime around 800 BC. In mythology it’s founders were Romulus and Remus, orphaned twin boys who were nurtured by a wolf mother. Later on, Romulus would kill Remus in an argument and name the city after himself. (Was it the baby formula?)
Getting lost in Rome can be amusing but it helps to have your wallet in your front pants pocket and also maybe a flashlight in case they turn off the street lights when it’s dark and you have to make your way back to the hotel by dead reckoning without getting run over by little Fiat sedans noisily smoking at high speed down every street you attempt to cross.
We Get the Fettuccine Part … But who Was Alfredo?
It all started in 1914 when restaurant owner, Alfredo de Lilio made up a dish for his pregnant wife who was refusing food on the excuse of not being hungry. He served it to her and it worked. She got hungry.
What really kick-started Alfredo’s career was rolling the hot ingredients for his fettuccine out to the table and making a big show of putting it together tableside with lots of butter and Parmesan cheese and serving it to his customers with a grand flourish. He became a food entertainer, calling himself “the Emperor of the Fettuccine” and got to be something of a legend, including among his patrons the newlywed movie stars, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks. It’s doubtful that many people today will know who they were but back then they were known everywhere and they did their part in making Fettucine Alfredo known everywhere as well.
So impressed were they by Alfredo and his showmanship that they gave him a gold spoon and fork, recently given to them as a wedding gift. Alfredo incorporated these into his act and made them a part of his logo. Many notables were drawn to Alfredo’s, among them Frank Sinatra, Ava Gardiner, Dean Martin, Audrey Hepburn, Alfred Hitchcock as well as John F. Kennedy.
You Can Do This
Boil 1 pound of fettucine noodles in a gallon of water with 1/2 cup of salt. Drain when “al dente”.
Melt 6 ounces of unsalted butter in a saucepan.
Add 6 ounces of grated Parmesan cheese and stir until the cheese has melted.
Mix the butter and cheese with the fettuccine and serve hot.
This is good as-is but I prefer to sprinkle on some black pepper and cayenne. Always best if you take the time to grate your own Parmesan. (Serves 4).
The Long History of Roman Numerals
If you ask a three-year old his or her age there’s a good chance they’ll hold up one hand with three fingers outstretched. Same with four. Go back in time almost 3,000 years and you’ll find people in Rome using such hand signals as the basis for their numerical system. Five was represented by holding the fingers outstretched and the thumb going out 90 degrees, making a sort of “V”. Ten was having both thumbs crossed and so on. The biggest drawback was not having the concept of “zero” or a way to represent it.
As primitive as this sounds, it didn’t stop Roman engineers, road builders and architects from building huge, complex and beautiful structures —- not just in Rome itself but in much of the whole European world at the time. And we, even today, use Roman Numerals on clocks, watches and sundials and in books and movie titles, say nothing of the Super Bowl. This was the numbering system most of the world used in Roman times. It wasn’t supplanted by the Arabic numeric system until the 11th Century. But we still have the Super Bowl to confuse the numerically limited, among whom I am most assuredly included.
Thankfully, they’re no longer used for air travel or surgery or, for that matter, recipes.
So what’s the deal with Pizza?
This originated most likely in and around Naples in the 1700’s. It was typically a round flatbread with toppings such as fish, vegetables, oil, garlic and seasonings, sold by street vendors to laborers as a cheap, quick meal. It crossed the Atlantic Ocean and was sold, again by unlicensed street vendors in New York. Then, in 1905, Gennaro Lombardi opened the first licensed American pizzeria.
Today, Lombardi’s still serves its original recipe pizza in Manhattan and they still use the original, coal-fired oven —- the only legal one left in New York City. I might add that you might find better pizza in other places but in case you don’t, this is probably as good as it gets.
I got lost in a maze of Roman streets one night. Remember, these streets were laid out a long time ago out for use by donkeys in the daytime and it seems that none of them adhere to a straight line for more than a block or two.
The city had shut off all the street lights suddenly, without warning and it was really dark. I was aware that I hadn’t had supper and I was missing it. Tiny cars zoomed along the street, apparently hoping to kill any pedestrian dumb enough to step off the sidewalk. Near the end of the street that I was on you could see light pouring out of some windows. It was a small, family-owned trattoria and it looked warm and inviting. I went in. A little bell over the door rang my arrival. There were Papa and Mama and what I assumed were two teenaged sons but no customers. All but mama were wearing dirty white aprons but she greeted me with a hearty “buona sera” and indicated a table where I should sit.
The food was inexpensive, the wine was poured from a flask, but I was no longer orphaned onto those dark streets and had a wonderful supper of eggplant Parmesan and oven-fresh bread. The wall-mounted television was beaming an ancient “Bonanza” episode and I found it amusing to hear Little Joe speaking overdubbed Italian from his saddle and old Papa Ben Cartwright, babbling away in a high-pitched Italian voice that reminded me of an ancient Enrico Caruso record.
I was in Rome. There was Hoss. There was Little Joe and old Ben. There was wine. I felt at home.
(NOTE: At the bottom of this post you’ll see some action buttons. One of these invites you to leave a comment and I would love to have your thoughts and share them with my readers. Been to Rome? Got a favorite Italian recipe? Don’t like the weather? Whatever. Lay it on me. Thank you.)