just wide enough to look or shoot through
I had an interesting personal-historical palimpsestic experience this morning on my way home from dropping Jack at school. I wound my way to the market street, and went to the last stall, where there is a sign saying “Vendita Directa,” meaning that the fruits and vegetables are sold directly from farmer to consumer. I don’t know how to explain the presence of bananas from Ecuador on the table, but oh well.
On my way home, I decided to take a little staircase I hadn’t seen before, which seemed to lead in the general direction of the American Academy. It led to a sidewalk that ran along La Mura—the gigantic wall built around the ancient city. I knew that the Academy was situated just over the wall, in a sort of nook near the wall’s highest point. If I just walked along the wall, I’d find a way in. I kept walking and walking along the wall, as it started to wind down the steep hillside. Cars rushed by me on one side, and the high wall reflected hot sunlight on the other. I kept thinking, there has to be a way through this wall! And then I realized the historical and ironic nature of this walk—about a mile out of my way. My position on the outside, and my desire to get in, put me in the place of the barbarians the wall was constructed to keep out. I may be an American, and wearing jeans from the Gap, I thought, but I’m carrying a bag of figs, and I’m trying to learn Italian!
Finally, I decided to turn around, and this time, I spotted a woman pushing a stroller through a narrow doorway in the wall. This passageway led to the park and playground right near the Academy. I was in.
Now for some pictures. Last night, a bunch of us at the Academy did our best to eat as Romans do. We had a pot-luck barbecue, but there were no barbarian-style hot dogs or burgers on the menu.
I made pizza:
Lars and Eva brought sausages to grill:
When the rain let up, we carried all of the food outside to a table under the trees:
The fire kept burning, and more meat came out. This was the butterflied leg of lamb Russel and Annie bought at Testaccio on Saturday, along with some sweet cippolline:
It was a good spread:
The Roving Locavore 