Naples, with Bee

Naples weather is having its wild and crazy ride this week. Rain, wind -- that was yesterday. Snow again on Vesuvius overnight. A cloud break at dawn and then, just when any decent tourist would want to head out -- more rain.

(from the tiny balcony, at day break)

Consider this as simply bad luck (it clears the day I leave). Or, view it as an opportunity! Bee and I discuss our options over breakfast.

There is little sense in visiting either Pompeii or Vesuvius or even the Amalfi coast in this weather (these had been our plans for Sunday). I mean, a diehard tourist who wants to check off all the boxes and send a couple of pics by the volcano back home to friends -- maybe. But I do not choose my visits for what they may bring to Ocean (sorry, readers! Vesuvius is a no go this time around!) and Bee certainly isn't into box checking. We are in Naples today, but tomorrow, we will head out to some place that doesn't have steady rain in its forecast.

And now for a more thorough exploration of this city. Instead of heading toward the Centro Storico, we first walk the streets of Chiaia. The Naples Riviera. 

What stands out? Well, it doesn't look a bit like any other Riviera that I've seen. There's a strip of green, there's traffic, there's the sea. Somewhere on the other side of the strip of green is a row of buildings that may or may not have interesting shops or eateries. We don't know, because it's not easy to cross the green strip to see what's on the other side. I dare say, it's not possible to cross it. Once you've committed to the sea, you stay with your choice for a long, long while.

The sea is more gentle today. The kilometer we spend by its shores is deeply satisfying. 

(full view of the volcano)

We turn in then and start going up the hills, mostly to locate a Funiculare that has a station somewhere in the vicinity. 

Bee and I want the city views again from the Castle Sant'Elmo -- the fourteenth century fortress that towers above the city. But it's little more complicated: from where we have walked, you take a train to the nearby Funiculare. Once we understand this (it takes many helpful people), we wait for the train. On the wrong side of the platform. We don't know this, we don't know that. So typical is our tourist's fumble that the train ticket agent points to my camera and shook his finger with warning words about keeping it secured, so no one will snatch it. I can tell his thought process: distracted older women, innocent, perfect victims for petty crime. Ha! Knock on wood -- here we are at the end of the day and 1. nothing was stolen, 2. no car ran us over on a crossing, and 3. no one cheated us out of house and home. But, we did get significantly lost toward the end of the day, and we put ourselves into the shadier neighborhoods of the city, and as the phone map keeper, I have to say -- it was my fault.

The little train did indeed take us to the cable car (Funiculare) up the hill and from there it was an easy walk to the castle. I wont show you too many views -- you've seen them! Though I have to say, today brought with it the unrelenting rain, so that a significant portion of the coastline was under dark clouds. In other words, visibility was more limited. But, it's all still pretty!

(Vesuvius is under a cloud cover...)

(so is the coast to the north)

(selfie!!)

From there, down we go in another Funiculare  and man oh man, could we hear the rain beat against the roof of the train car! We step out into as close to a downpour as I hope to get here. Still, we follow the streets, full of (wet) market stalls and zucchini flowers and artichokes and oranges and fresh fish (and umbrellas!)...

... and I have to say, Naples is colorful even in bad weather!

Once we get to Toledo Street, we have the idea that this would be a perfect time to go to the Museum. Gallerie d'Italia is just down the street and it displays of a gruesome but famous Caravaggio canvas, along with other Neapolitan artists who painted from the 17th to the 19th centuries. There's a long wait for tickets, but the museum rooms aren't full at all. One of those mysteries of tourism that are hard to explain.

(Caravaggio)

And now we are heading deeply into the Centro Storico.

It's still raining, but, too, we see that the sun is waging a war with the dark rain clouds. And by the time we enter the Cloisters of Santa Chiara, the sun wins and we see wisps of a blue sky. Not total blue and not without a rain later on, but here, in this garden of orange trees, and colorful tiles, the day just got that much brighter.

Back to the narrow streets and alleys of this old section of Naples. People are eating fried pizza on the street again!

We have been walking for hours. It's three o'clock! The rain has wet our shoes. It is cold. We need food!

There are many pizzerias to choose from -- hey, this one looks okay! (Attanasio Pizzeria)

It's casual, it's not fussy and the pizzas - a margheritta and a pizza con porcini, with some meats thrown in along with the mushrooms -- are fabulous. We split them evenly.

Fortified, we continue to the Duomo. I am not at all a lover of ecclesiastical architecture, but we do spend some small amount of time inside. As we leave, I'm thinking -- my but we are both getting tired now and it is still a long walk back to the hotel.

Made longer by me taking a few wrong turns along the way. 

Finally. We are by the water again. A pause to admire Vesuvius in the evening light...

And we are home! We both turn on our tea kettles in our rooms. Nothing hits the spot as well as a hot cup of your favorite brew and we each brought baggies of teas from home.

An hour later we are out again for the long walk (ha! all of two minutes, but we are walked out! My watch tells me I broke all records today!) -- to the restaurant called RestaQmme.

What caught my attention (after reading various reviews in places that write about food) was the name of the chef: Magdalena Buczynska. Sounds Polish, doesn't it? This was to be Bee's 70th birthday dinner from me, so it had to be special. Good Neapolitan food, cooked by a creative Polish chef? In a room that announces itself as a "trattoria di charme?" Sounds perfect.

We make no bones about it: we tell the maitre d' that we are Polish and we are wondering if Ms Buczynska is at the helm tonight.

She is! And right away, Chef Buczynska comes out to talk to us. From there, it's uphill all the way.

She is of Bee's and my daughters' generation. First came to Naples at the turn of the century. She fell in love with the city and decided to come back eventually, after completing her culinary education back home, and start cooking professionally here, in Naples. Seriously so. Within a few years she worked her way up to this elevated position and she has had tremendous success in a city that is known for excellent cooking and fabulous restaurants. (Top Ragu in Campania? Oh heavens, it doesn't get higher than that!) How does she do it? "I have a stable client base and they keep coming back." 

We can see why!

She tells us the specials of the day and when the maitre d comes to take our order, we say -- we want the two dishes recommended by the chef! Both the soup and the main course!

Within minutes, Chef Buczynska is back at our table. You come all this way and you both want the same thing? How can you sample the full range of what you can have here? Let me split some of the dishes between the two of you. You should taste more than what you just ordered.

And so we leave it all in her hands. Give us small portions of whatever you think is special.

And she does.

I cannot say what the highlights were. Pumpkin soup with black truffle from Piedmont which she generously shreds for us? 

Or, the eggplant dish with gently stewed onions? The risotto with lemon and seafood? The pork filets over a beet and tomato sauce? Was it even tomato? Something else? How about the totally famous Neapolitan Ragu -- only this one served with three delicate fried meatballs made of dark pig meat? Do you know how long a Neapolitan cooks her ragu? The standard is more than 12 hours. She cooks hers for 16. (Some photos of this are on my Flickr account if you are a curious foodie.) And can I ever forget the dessert trio, with the chocolate cake and pumpkin sauce? Or the macaron tiramisu? Or lemon baby tart in this land of delicious lemons?

All served with a lovely regional red wine.

We were very impressed by many things actually. By Chef Buczynska's knowledge of food of course. By her graciousness toward us -- these two guests from Poland who showed up at her door full of awe and expectation. She came out with each new dish, and then I would watch her move seamlessly around the room, greeting others, making eating suggestions to some. And we were impressed by the intimate room that was neither too stuffy nor too casual. 

We ate extremely well tonight! If ever you come to Naples, book a table (you can not get in otherwise). And enjoy this gifted chef's creations!

We stumbled home and called it a day after.

With so much love...

leaving Naples?

First, an announcement that has nothing to do with Naples or even Italy: I am scheduled to do a presentation on my book, Like a Swallow, at the Oregon Public Library (Oregon, Wisconsin that is!) this Thursday, January 26th at 6:30p.m. If you are in the area, come by and say hi! If you are not, then you can listen in via Zoom. Register at this link! And let me know if you are an Ocean reader. I would love to meet you.

Now, about Naples. 

Yesterday, after crisscrossing the city all afternoon, I decided I was seeing too much. How so? Well, Bee and I are supposed to discover the city together. I relished being a co-conspirator rather than one who is leading around another person who has yet to familiarize herself with the city. Bee is coming tonight. What should I do with the day before her arrival? Leave Naples!

Italy, like the rest of Europe, has an excellent train network and there is a high speed connection to Rome. One hour and ten minutes. Rome is to Naples as Madison is to Chicago -- 120 miles away. One can only be envious. I book a ticket there and back.

This morning, I witness a sunrise over the Amalfi coast.

This may lead you to hope that I will have a fine weather day. Nothing could be further from the truth. It will rain here, it may rain in Rome. No matter! I am psyched.

But first, breakfast. Predictably, there are many cakes and pastries to choose from. I try to balance this with my desire to stay focused on eating something reasonably good for you. The result is weird, but I like it!

And now I have to make my way to the Garibaldi train station. Everyone says this is at a terribly unattractive point in Naples, and I guess that's true. And a few paces into the longish walk, I take a look at a snow topped Vesuvius (shows you what the weather was like last night!)...

...and then I turn around and come back to the hotel, where there is a long line of cabs waiting. I have visions of taking the wrong turn and missing my train. Better to be safe. 

The train (which, Naples notwithstanding, leaves on time at 10:30) is heading all the way to Milano. I have a comfy seat and good internet connection. And good views! Such luxury! 

Arriviamo a Roma.

I wasn't prepared for this side trip and a dozen years have passed since I was last here (with my younger girl, who was once as happy to travel with me as Snowdrop is today!). But Rome, huge city that it is, does not require much of the visitor. The center is walkable and shockingly predictable. Besides, I have a smart phone with a map to help me if I get confused.

People who live in Rome say that they have not a whole lot in common with their neighbors to the south (Neapolitans would agree and they're proud of it! Nether trusts the other). To the average tourist though (and I am that) the differences aren't so obvious. In fact, I was thinking yesterday as I walked through some of the less attractive blocks of Naples -- you can forgive a lot there because at its core, the city does feel Italian. For me, in every bit of Italy I have to remind myself that Italians care deeply about what's on the inside, much more than what's on the outside. Many blocks in Venice, Florence, and certainly Rome are unremarkable until you step through the doors and look inside. The same can be said of Naples. 

But Rome does have a unique beauty to it. A stateliness and historic wealth. A confidence in all that it has to offer. I want to feel that vibe today. It's why I'm here, no?

I walk first to the Campo de Fiori market. This is a hefty walk but it's full of Rome, hills and all!

Go ahead, ask me about my knee! Weeeeeell... Yesterday's muckin' around for five hours is felt today. And I didn't pack my brace because things felt good back home. Still, if I don't speed too much, I can go the distance.

And here's the charm of walking: you pass things that totally surprise you. This happened on my way to the Campo de Fiori: outside a very ordinary looking building (Palazzo Bonaparte), I see Van Gogh posters. I go inside. It appears that there is an exhibition of his work -- fifty canvases from the collection of Helene Kroller-Muller (these normally are displayed at the museum in Otterlo in the Netherlands), who was one of the first collectors (and certainly the first female collector) to recognize his genius.

The exhibition is fantastic! The notes tell his story in terms of a progression -- of style, of subject, of color. I can't get enough of it! My eyes spill over. 

Paintings that were most meaningful to me:

(Women in snow, carrying sacks of coal, 1882)

(Peasants planting potatoes, 1884)

There is a room with a bit of the Van Gogh light show, which I saw way back in Paris and which I do believe is currently in Madison. What I like about this one is that it's just one room and just one theme...

The exhibition ends with this portrait. His last I believe. Of a despondent old man.

And now for the market, passing Rome's Wedding Cake...

And so many interesting streets! I am glad to be moving. It's considerably colder here than in Naples, though thankfully, despite predictions to the contrary, it does not rain at all the whole time I am here.

Okay, the market. It's big, and it has artichokes in many forms and sizes.

From there it's a hop skip to what was always my favorite square in Rome -- Piazza Navona. It's as stunning as ever. And so empty now!

I consider lunch. A few blocks further I know there is a restaurant that was a favorite for my girl and me: Ristorante Maccheroni. I check it out. Yes, they have a table. Yes, it's crowded. Yes, I'd love to eat here!

(the placemat reminds me of... me!)

Ravioli with zucchini flowers and cheese, in a white sauce and a glass of red -- heaven! Just perfect. I must go back to stuffed tortelli making when I get home!

There are lots of men -- as always at lunch time in Europe, though here, there's a healthy mix of lovers, friends and the occasional father and son. 

(shooting into a high mirror)

I notice that many order the Roman artichoke as an appetizer. I should have done the same. All those market artichokes... Well, let's break protocol and eat it after my pasta dish! The waiter doesn't care! Neither should I.

A macchiato, and I'm out again.

My next stop is the not too far from here Trevi Fountain. And there, you'll find the tourists. Not nearly in the quantities you'd see in summer, but still, Trevi has in recent decades felt like Disneyland and unfortunately, it's pretty much the same in January. I took one quick stupid photo and left.

And from here, it's a solid but pretty walk back to the train station. (I have a 4:30 train back to Naples.) Along the way I pass a pharmacy. Empty, with four staff members just waiting to be of service. I go in and ask for knee brace. I could manage to hobble along without it, but I'm concerned that it may get worse. Better be prepared. 

While there, I ask, out of curiosity, if they stack Paxlovid. They do, but they have sold exactly one packet of it in all the time they've had it (and yes, you do need a prescription). Why? The pharmacist explains the way things work here: if you buy it at the pharmacy, you'll bay the sticker price of 2000 Euros. At the going exchange rate, that's slightly over $2000. But if you go to the hospital, it's free. I ask him if he thinks hospitals in Naples have it. Oh sure -- he says. But you wont need it. I tell him I'm almost 70. He smiles. The variant here is pretty mild. My Nonna got Covid last week. Just a cold, nothing more. That's the way it's been for most. 

Well, so far I've avoided it. I do mask in crowded situations, but of course, I eat out too.

The train comes on time and an hour and ten later, I am in Naples in cold, wet, dark.

It's a very unattractive walk back to the area of my hotel (which stands right at the midpoint, between Centro Storico and the more "splendid" hill districts of northern Naples), so I splurge and take a taxi back.

Where are you from? America? I love everything about America! I have a tattoo of the Statue of Liberty! This is not time to talk about our poor, tired and huddled masses. Besides, he has moved on. And Harley Davidson! And in 2018, I took my kids to Florida, to Disney park! A trip of a lifetime...

And now for a quick meal. Where to? I go to the island that is home to a castle and a handful of restaurants. Just across the causeway from my hotel. There, I eat at the Officina del Mare. 

This sounds like a small effort on my part. Google Maps will tell you that it's a four minute walk for me. Well, five or six with my knee, but still, peanuts! But the weather turns violent. Winds, rain -- it all rolls in from the sea and it is vicious! I begin to worry not only about my five or six minutes, but about Bee's flight in tonight.

So of course, I order comfort foods. A salad, to stay healthy, and heavenly pasta with fruitti di mare.

The restaurant has only outside seating. To compensate for winter storms, it wraps itself in thick plastic and it brings in heating lamps. That wasn't enough tonight. I got an additional blanket on my lap.

Still, the food was heaven on earth. I thought I'd never eat any clam or mussel again after my lunch in September in New York, but here I am, loving every last morsel. The menu tells me it's Vesuvius tomatoes and the clams and mussels are from the waters just to the side of us. The freshness is palpable.

And now I hurry back to the hotel and before 9, Bee is here. And yes, I do have a Negroni, but there aren't any pictures to take or notes to scribble here on Ocean. I haven't seen Bee (in person) since before the pandemic and we lose ourselves in an authentic non-zoom evening of talk.

Minutes before midnight, I post this. But don't expect lengthy writing in the next few days. There just wont be time for it.

With love...