I left Rome at the end of May and have been back at school now for over a month. I feel almost entirely readjusted to American college life, except for some little pangs of Rome-sickness. Last night I had a dream that I was on the bus to Sienna except it was going to Interlaken and I was with Tom and Ethan and Tom was wearing a black beanie on his head. It was so vivid I felt disoriented upon waking up in my bed in central Illinois. Anyway, I wrote this post after experiencing my first Passover away from home. I was lucky enough to spend it with the mighty Jewish community of Sienna and the motivated American Jewish community studying abroad in Rome. I think my Rome-sick pangs are happening now because with Erev Rosh Hashana approaching tomorrow night I can't help but reflect on where I was for the last major Jewish holiday and where I am for this one. I'm sure back in Rome they're eating some amazing pasta dish to accompany a decadent red meat, but I just made my first kugel for my first Rosh Hashana away from home - a pasta dish that might just put Italian food to shame and goes great with matzoh ball soup, something the Italians could use some brushing up on. So here it is - Passover in Italy.
I was just discussing with a bunch of people how cliche it is to title
anything written in Rome as "Roman Holiday" but in this case it's
totally appropriate. This past weekend was the IES field trip to
Sienna and it was also the first two nights of Passover. An incredible
combination full of food, wine, more food, and more wine, it was a
great couple of days spread between the Tuscan hills and the Roman city
life. I'm gonna start by talking about the seders since they're what
I'll remember most about this weekend.
Now, for the food. First let me just say, that the
food at this seder was good but no one makes a brisket like either of
my grandma's (search "grandma's brisket" on eatdrinkordie.com), a macaroon like Aunt Sharon, haroset and baked chicken
like my momma, matzah ball soup like Aunt Joanne, or spring veggies
like Aunt Sara. It's tough to beat these ladies when it comes to
cuisine, but I was excited to see what Italy had in store for me. All
the fancy meals in Italy are served in courses, not like the buffet
style we do at home, so course after course came out and course after
course we ate. The first was a plate of antipasti meats, which was
great because they were kosher and I haven't been able to try any up
until now because they're usually dripping with porkishness. So there
was salami, bologna, and turkey on a plate with lettuce and a hard
boiled egg. This plate gave gefilte fish some tough competition with
it's salty meatiness.
Next course was risotto. My observant readers
may pause at this point and say, "Wha?? You can't eat risotto! You're
ashkenazi!" Tis true, but let's not forget that "When in Rome..." is
an attitude which applies to all my experiences here, even in Sienna.
So I bit the bullet and forced every delicious bite of risotto down my
throat, pretending for one night that I too was a Sephardic Jew. The
first risotto was mushroom and had a deliciously round flavor, smokey
and deep in its flavor. The rice was almost crunchy, but that's not
really the right word, it was just very far from mush, each kernel
maintaining its integrity. The second risotto dish was a tomato
risotto that tasted like part of a supli which
is a Roman delicacy, more of a drunk food actually, because it's a sort
of dumpling - a fried ball of rice with tomato sauce and a little bit
of melted mozzarella on the inside. (As I'm writing this, I'm
realizing that this is something I can still eat this week. Score.)
Anyways, delicious as a supli sounds, this was just the rice, which
was every bit as delicious. Tangy and sweet, it was a perfect follow
up to its mushroom predecessor.
Next dish was the classic brisket and
potatoes, both at the wrong consistency so totally not worth writing
about. And while we ate that the servers brought out these oily,
buttery, seasoned peas which would have made Dad and Bets drool and Mom
gag. After all that they placed fruit bowls and macaroons on the table
which were good but not that good, especially after I finished my
tenth. Four glasses of kosher wine that was good and dry, not at all
the overly sweet, juice-like, festive Manishewitz (I'm being sarcastic. I love
Manishewitz and this legit stuff is not cutting it for me here. Oh
well.), three and half hours, five courses, and probably two pant sizes
later we recited "Eliahu Hanavi" and "L'Shana Haba'ah," thanked our
hosts and hostesses and made our back out to Piazza di Campo.
A lot happened between the first night and the second night but I wanna skip right to the second night for right now.
Okay,
so the seder on the second night was in Rome at the Jewish Community
Center and was hosted by two boys from Berkley who organized the whole
thing in conjunction with Hillel and Taglit Birthright. All the way
across the river in Trastevere, the center is pretty and clean, and
relatively easy to find. On my way there I passed by slowly moving
elders "dressed to the nines" as Grandma J might say, but I wasn't sure
they were going to the same place as me. Sure enough, they were! How
exciting to see real life Italians walking to a seder, just like me,
and this just happens to be where they live, just like me! One of my
friends from IES was maybe going to be there, but I wasn't sure, so
brave little toaster that I am I went all my lonesome, found the place
and commenced my secondo notte di Pesach .
As for the meal, it was good but another one not really worth
writing about - except the matzah balls, which made me want to hug the
chef for trying. Out came the soup in bowlish plates and ladled onto
my plate arrived six gnocchi shaped matzah balls, darkly colored in a
brown broth. No carrots, no celery - no supporting characters - these
tough little pellets on occasion took a knife to cut through and upon
arrival in my mouth were chewy and stiff. But I liked them! Ms. Loris
used to say that you know your political party based on how you like
your matzah balls - democrats like 'em big, soft and fluffy,
republicans like 'em small, tough and hard. Who knows? Maybe I just
liked them because it was such a nice effort by the Roman chefs who
probably think we're crazy for ever craving what they fashioned for us.
I left that night feeling great about meeting tons of awesome people,
enjoying pretty good food, and experiencing just a little bit of
religious enlightenment. I thought that I'd be homesick during the
seders, and while I definitely missed my family, I was so happy to have
found the company and spirituality I was looking for in Italy .
It was reassuring that I could be across the world, in a country
ravaged by World War II and still find vibrant communities, alive with
excitement during Passover, happy to welcome me as part of their own,
extending a piece of their web to me to create another strong
connection on the map of Jewish Geography. Chag Sameach...A happy chag
indeed.
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