LAUREN WALDSTEIN

As I mentioned earlier, the best thing about parents visiting is that I could count on them to take me out to amazing meals and the one on their last night was something that I had been waiting for all semester.  I knew about Spirito DiVino because I heard about it in the first week from my professor Daniele Fiorentino. The name is a play on words, so right of the bat I knew I'd love it. In one sense it means "spirit of the divine" and in another it means "spirits and wine" and both names work perfectly with the location of the restaurant. Apparently it's built on the walls of one of the oldest villages in Rome and probably the wall of the oldest synagogue or Jewish gathering place in Rome, and maybe in all of Europe. It sounds weird that it's built ON those things but Rome is a city built on cities - the first week we were here the metro wouldn't go through one of the stops because they found a city down there. The coolest part of the restaurant is that they invite you to go downstairs to their wine cellar built into those ancient walls - so ancient that the structure is supposed to be 80 years older than the Colosseum. That's really really old. It's a small space but it's bright and open and really beautifully decorated like an updated version of classic Roman architecture. With archways spanning the ceiling, the walls are painted half canary yellow and half white. The bar is upholstered in black leather like the couch of a king with a rotund brick colored lamp on the corner.

Owned and operated by a family, the charm of the staff is half the charm of the restaurant. While the wife cooks amazing food behind the scenes, the father and son put on a quite a show. Both flaunting their Italian suaveness, the father comes to the table first to describe the menu and the history of the restaurant. He's casual and comfortable before he even meets his customers, allowing them to completely sink into a food experience. The food is all made with ingredients purchased that day from the very best produce and meats and cheeses in the market. Because of that, some of the items on the menu have changes that he will inform you of. For example, the menu said there was a goat cheese and black olive crepe, but since that day the goat cheese wasn't at its best instead it would be an asparagus and black olive crepe. Hmm. I could see replacing the goat cheese with another cheese, but asparagus? Not really the same deal. Anyway, after some serious schmoozing we ordered eggplant rolls with ricotta cheese, zucchini and raisins, and a chickpea crepe with spinach, eggplant, and ricotta cheese. Suffice it to say, they were mindblowing. The flavors were deep and rich, but each bite was smooth and a little creamy because of the ricotta. Tangy from the veggies and with the perfect texture combination, we ate each bite slowly out of respect for the perfectly balanced flavors. But even before the appetizers, the son came to our table, crouched down beside it, and as if he were just chillin for a while asked us what was up. He had a googly eye but was cute (I'm sorry. I had to say it. I was impossible not to notice!) and very arrogant, like his father. After a few exchanges he revealed to us that he was the sommelier. Ohhh. So he wasn't just there to hang out and watch us eat? Nope. He came to talk to us and chill and share his opinions about the world and also take our wine order.

Since the chef doesn't make the food until you order, this is a meal that lasts a few hours. But it's fun because you end up relaxing with great wine, good bread, delicious food, and a comfortable atmosphere so that you want to stay. And also, the son's friend works as the second waiter there. And also, he's sooooooo cute. He and the son have a skate park where they work during the day, and then at night they entertain the ladies with their charm. He was funny and kinda short, but so handsome with dark eyes and dark hair and a great jaw line and maybe that's why I liked the restaurant so much. Anyway, at a restaurant like this you're really supposed to order every course, a lesson we had thrown in our faces earlier that day in the ghetto. But the food here is so fabulous that even Dad was excited to order, despite the prices - which are high. So for pasta we ordered fussili with almond pesto and spaghetti with an olive tapenade and anchiove sauce. They were both amazing. I love olives and I pretended I didn't know there were anchioves so I'd probably have to say that was my favorite pasta dish I've had in Rome. The almond pesto was rich and instead of being green it was a light brown color. Delicious.

Then out came the owner again to take our main course orders. Dad ordered lamb chops, Mom got a filet in gray mustard and pink pepper sauce, and I went with cinnamon chicken. The chicken had an Indian vibe to it and each bite was like a flavor roller coaster. First it was a PING of cinnamon and then a ZING of heat and then it would SIZZLE into the regular old taste of chicken, but in a good way. It was served in a white porcelain serving dish with a top, like a fancy present. Mom's steak was unbelievable. I'm all for leaving steaks alone - ya know, like no fancy sauces to take the attention away from the flavor of the meat - but between the blueberry steak at Acqua al Due, the balsamic steak at La Giostra, and the gray mustard and pink pepper steak here I think I might have changed my mind. It was a little spicy from the mustard and the pink pepper was sweeter than black so that the spice and the sweetness highlighted the heart of the steaky flavor. Dad's lambchops were also fabulous. A fattier cut of meat, they were chewy and smoky and pretty much just like really good lambchops. At this point in the meal we were already stuffed and it was already like 11:30, and since we'd had another long exhausting day of eating and shopping and trekking all over Rome we were all exhausted. Just when we were falling asleep at the table, the son came back over to ask us how everything was and share his opinions on some very controversial topics. He let us know that he thinks Italian is a much more beautiful language than Spanish and French and that English is ugly and hard to learn.  I wonder if he talks to everyone that way. Still, he maintained his lightness and we were mostly entertained by his enthusiasm and willingness to share his feelings about the world.

Tired as we were, I consider myself a champion eater and this is right about the time when Mom and Dad almost made me cry. It was 12:15, we were exhausted, and they did not want to get dessert. WHAT? I pleaded with them. I made puppy face eyes at Mom. How could Dad do this to me? How could we spend a whole evening here and not finish the meal properly with dessert??? Just as they were telling me a final "no," the father came back to our table and said chipperly, "Dessert?!" And before Mom and Dad could even say no he said "I'll bring you our famous creme brulee - just one to share - and if you don't like it, the whole meal is free!" Well that was an offer - more like a command - Mom and Dad could not refuse. So we went to look at the cellar and take some pictures of Flat Stanley down there while our dessert was being prepared. Back at the table the cute waiter, my boyfriend for the evening, brought out in another pretty white porcelain dish the creme brulee. Followed quickly with another explanation by the father, he told us that their creme brulee isn't prepared the French way, served hot with a sugar crust, instead it's prepared the English way, served cold with a soft sugar top. It was GOOD. It tasted like the best pudding I've ever had. Buttery and creamy and rich but light. Split three ways, but mostly just for me, it was a perfect ending to our perfect dinner in Rome. I knew we had to have dessert!

In the morning we said goodbye after a fabulous week of food touring and sight seeing and frankly I could have gotten in the cab to the airport and gone home with my parents.  But even though being with my parents made me miss them even more, I was glad that I'd have a few more weeks here.  They were sort of like the dessert at the end of my amazing meal of a semester.  But I still had two weeks left!