It is possible to survive on a diet of pasta and pizza and artichokes. I am living proof.
Steve is obsessed by salami. He came home today from a trip to the store (yes, he goes food shopping in Rome), loaded with three different kinds of salami and a loaf of crusty bread big enough to feed a family of 12. All this, he says, in preparation for “the kids,” despite the fact that Jon and Ross aren’t due until this weekend and Liz and her crew will be here next week. The whole first floor of our little house now smells of salami.
Tonight, yet another dinner of pasta con vongole, my favorite. I am careful to order a plate of grilled radicchio as well. Max would be proud.
This afternoon I walked across the Ponte Sisto to return the movies we rented. Nothing like watching a movie in bed on my MacPro. (Steve lasts about five minutes before the snoring begins and I tell him to turn over.) The video store is just a short walk from Campo dei Fiuori and Piazza Navona. Enjoying my time alone, I wander around the area debating whether to treat myself to a gelato or a glass of prosecco. Instead, I stumble into a church to discover that it features three amazing paintings by Carvaggio. I only leave when a large group of tourists arrive and start clambering for position in order to take pictures and videos. I don't mind because I know I can come back.
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