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This gallery contains 4 photos.

The unnamed street shop where today for 2€ I had my sweater mended in one hour by two charming women. I gave them a 1€ tip because I realized that in Palo Alto that would be the cost of parking (ok, a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point).

From International Women’s Day celebration at Testaccio Square. The man singing owns Da Oio a Casa Mia, the Italian restaurant underneath our apartment. Wish it were his voice we heard at 3 am and not the drunkards leaving the discos. The women around him with dark make-up on their eyes and faces represent battered women. (Source: http://www.tripadvisor.com/)

Will he knock

This afternoon, I heard a knock on our apartment door. Charlie, dead asleep upon his return from Crete, certainly wasn’t going to answer it, so I did. Our neighbor-cleaner’s boyfriend Federico was at the door with a big, heavy package. He looked at my surprised and asked, “Were you expecting a delivery?” No, of course now. Who even knows my physical address (ok, it’s at the bottom of most of my emails). But who even … more

From the anti-nuclear arms exhibition senzatomica at MACRO in Testaccio, which I happened upon this evening. What was remarkable, and not particularly well captured in my video, is the credible sound and vibration – the actual sound of an atom bomb exploding with video reminiscent of the low frame rate scenes in Jacob’s Ladder, a visual metaphor for the chaos of the explosion and the human impact. It runs every 15 minutes, and when it does … more

A new chemical reaction

Mix one part Prosecco Valdobbiadene, a beautiful light, dry, effervescent Prosecco, with one part pepato (pecorino cheese with peppercorns); swish softly; and wait patiently but not long at all, the Prosecco molecules will meet those of the pepato in a quite remarkable holy explosion of flavor. Really, why would one ever both with brie and chardonnay? (For future reference, I am reminded to click here for a delicious brand of Presecco. And we’ve been buying the pepato at … more

A sobering day

Today is a sobering day, not just because Becky returned to California and Charlie’s flight from Crete was cancelled. In the morning, after Bruno picked up Becky, I left Casa di Alice to explore. Rain clouds gone, the sun arrived, startlingly bright, but with a cold wind like a slap. In the first block after my apartment, I ran into the first begger, an African man, or at least a man of African descent, in … more

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Celebrating my 59th birthday at Felice with Becky, on her last night in Rome. Lovely dinner of puntarelle, carcoifi alla Romana, pasta cacio e pepe, braciola. Prosecco to start, amaro to finish, Syrah in between. Alex the Cuban-Italian-American adding a vest to the experience. Life doesn’t get any better.