The concierge handed me a map, traced the route I should take, and off I went. Trastevere was my destination and walking my only mode of transportation. The route took me past the ancient ruins of the Colosseum and the Forum, past the city center, over the bridge of the Tiber River, and to, what I read, one of the quaintest parts of Rome. After forty minutes of brisk walking, I found Via dei Fienaroli 5. The cooking class in Rome had begun.
Introducing myself to Chef Andrea and the others, I immediately felt at home. Being a third culture kid, I thrive in such environments. Chef Andrea came highly recommended from tripadvisor.com; after five minutes in his kitchen, I knew why! I learned that one should never cut basil, only tear it. Garlic, after removing the heart, should be sautéed with the skin on, not for flavor, but for health benefits. Pumpkin blossoms make a delicious appetizer.
Chef Andrea’s kind heart did not go unnoticed. He offered to take my son to the ER should the need arise (but over-the-counter antibiotics did the trick). Tulio and Emma were from Peru but lived in Memphis. Emma loved to cook and was eager to learn Roman fare. Tulio, a neurologist, not so eager, admitted he did not want to attend the cooking class but acquiesced for marital harmony’s sake. The scripture “to live with [one’s own] wife in an understanding way,” (1 Peter 3:7) came to mind. I commended him.
Katherine, from Kensington, was living in Trastevere for the summer. An artist by trade, she painted as she felt inspiration, which—I can only imagine—must have been often. Trastevere is the quintessential Italian neighborhood with its narrow, cobblestone streets lined with trattorias and cafés. Vines of ivy and colorful flowers spread upward over storefronts and apartment homes. Laundry strung in a zigzagged fashion rippled in the breeze and served to remind the casual passerby that Roman citizens inhabit this magical place.
Katherine spoke of her lovely garden back in England, of the parakeets in her trees, and invited me to visit. Then there was Linda from Washington, DC, a homeschooling mom. In her, I felt a kindred spirit. While we sliced vegetables and filled pumpkin blossoms with fresh mozzarella, we discussed our new love—Italy. We threw in a little homeschool jargon as well; a language I speak quite fluently. We agreed that the best curriculum is new experiences.
I was chef for the day in Italy, and I couldn’t have been happier. The menu was as follows: deep-fried pumpkin blossoms stuffed with fresh mozzarella and prosciutto served with southern-style pesto; cavatelli (a homemade, fluffy pasta) with fresh tomato sauce, scaloppini with mushrooms, Roman-style spinach, and for dessert, lemon custard with strawberries.
What took three hours to prepare took two hours to eat, and it was the best meal I had in Italy; the company was great too.
From “Cooking Classes in Rome” and Chef Andrea I learned the Italian perspective on cooking: slow down and enjoy the process.
(I write about this experience in Chapter 8 of Hello New Life. )