Saturday, May 22, 2010
Things I Love: Cute Old Couples
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Perspective
"Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri" is a famous church basilica right near my apartment that I had never entered. (Please note: almost EVERY church here starts with "Santa Maria".) I walked in and was so stunned that I started tearing up. I see beautiful things every day here but something about the splendor of this church just hit me. Lame, I know, but I thought to myself: Don't forget how you feel in this moment. It was near empty, save a few tourists and a slew of younger guys in military uniforms. I walked around the space soaking in the mammoth columns, religious paintings, the light spilling in from the windows. There was also an exhibit set up in the church about the Italian scientist, Galileo. Diachotomy is EVERYWHERE in Rome and I found it interesting for this church to bring science and religion together.
I walked into the church with my Ipod in my pocket and when I went to take it out of my pocket down the street...it was gone. I spent an hour and a half looking for it. Either someone on the busy streets took it from my pocket or it fell out and someone picked it up. Goodbye, Ipod. It was that very morning that I was thinking, "Callie, listen to music more because it makes you feel good!" So I did what ANY sensible 22 year old would do who just lost their Ipod: I stood outside the front doors of the Santa Maria church and I cried like a baby.
A beer and un panino in the nearby park made me feel better for 10 minutes but I spent the rest of the day upset, cranky, and in a whirlwind of doubt as to why I'm actually here. I planned on booking a flight back home.
The next morning I began quasi-Italian lessons spending time one on one with my friend Mazen's "Lady Land." Nella is the most lively 81 year old Italian woman that I have ever met. She doesn't speak English and I don't speak Italian. It only makes sense for us to be best friends.
Nella turns on the TV and every Italian news station is covering the same story. Right where I was standing the day before in front of the church, a state funeral was taking place and the bodies of two Italian soldiers who died in Afghanistan were being carried into Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Matiri. Nella and I watched the whole service together and she explained in Italian what had happened. The Italian government was present and the entire area and basilica was filled to the brim with people.
No wonder all of those soldiers were there the day before. There I was crying about some stupid songs I lost on a little machine that can be easily replaced. Here was a 25 year old, leaving behind a young wife, who died trying to help his country. Talk about some perspective.
"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them." -Galileo
I walked into the church with my Ipod in my pocket and when I went to take it out of my pocket down the street...it was gone. I spent an hour and a half looking for it. Either someone on the busy streets took it from my pocket or it fell out and someone picked it up. Goodbye, Ipod. It was that very morning that I was thinking, "Callie, listen to music more because it makes you feel good!" So I did what ANY sensible 22 year old would do who just lost their Ipod: I stood outside the front doors of the Santa Maria church and I cried like a baby.A beer and un panino in the nearby park made me feel better for 10 minutes but I spent the rest of the day upset, cranky, and in a whirlwind of doubt as to why I'm actually here. I planned on booking a flight back home.
The next morning I began quasi-Italian lessons spending time one on one with my friend Mazen's "Lady Land." Nella is the most lively 81 year old Italian woman that I have ever met. She doesn't speak English and I don't speak Italian. It only makes sense for us to be best friends.
Nella turns on the TV and every Italian news station is covering the same story. Right where I was standing the day before in front of the church, a state funeral was taking place and the bodies of two Italian soldiers who died in Afghanistan were being carried into Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Matiri. Nella and I watched the whole service together and she explained in Italian what had happened. The Italian government was present and the entire area and basilica was filled to the brim with people.
No wonder all of those soldiers were there the day before. There I was crying about some stupid songs I lost on a little machine that can be easily replaced. Here was a 25 year old, leaving behind a young wife, who died trying to help his country. Talk about some perspective.
"All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them." -Galileo
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
An Italian Orgasm
Okay, I haven't experienced a REAL Italian orgasm. But my mouth sure has!
This is what we call a Granita. Move over Starbucks and Dunkin Donut's! Because NOTHING you have can compare to this little baby. A coffee granita is a specialty in Roma Caffes. They are made by freezing expresso, then shaving off the ice into chunks and refreezing it. It can also come in flavors such as Lemon, Strawberry, Orange. At what is said to be the best coffee near the Pantheon: Sant Eustachio, how could I choose anything else? Eaten with a spoon, both the flavor and the consistency is thick. Whipped cream, light and not too sweet, at the top AND the bottom for a delectible finish. Too small in my opinion but worth paying for another one. I will never be able to enjoy a frappuccino from Starbucks ever again after knowing this exists in the world.
Even though they can get around the corner back home, erveryone comes to Rome wanting the same thing: Pizza! But certainly don't expect anything that is at your local pizza place! Basic "plain" pizza is called "Pizza Margherita" consisting of tomato sauce and mozzarella. The most interesting pizza is what is labeled in most pizzerias as the "house" pizza: a pizza margherita topped with olives, a hunk of salami or other similar meat, olives, mushrooms, artichokes and yes, that's a hard boiled egg on there. Sometimes the egg is even cooked INTO the pizza and melts with the cheese. Sounds disgusting? NO! Pizza and eggs should always go together. My go-to has become "Quatro Formaggi" (Even though Italian cheese is so delicious, I wouldn't mind adding another one in there.) The pizza comes in one personal size. No one shares these and you never feel too full afterwards. The crust is always thin and you know your pizza is homemade because the circular shape is anything but perfect. The flavor undeniably is, though. It's got character!
Beware: I HAVE had BAD pizza. Stay away from chain pizzerias and anywhere that let's you take the pizza to-go. If you want to eat pizza where you live, you should make it yourself!
Thursday night is "Gnocchi Night" here in Rome. If you've never had gnocchi, TRY IT. Or wait till you visit Roma. It is unlike any pasta dish I've tried before. (Note: The "G" is silent NEO-KEY) Tiny potato dumplings served as an entree with a sauce that can come with any pasta. Always cheese added. It is easy to tell the good gnocchi from the bad because of the texture. The potato inside the noodle can become too chewy and stick to the roof of you're mouth, making it unpleasant. Like I said, should only be enjoyed on Thursdays!
Each day in "La Dolce Vita" always should begin in the morning with a cappucino or expresso and one of these. This is NOT your average breakfast pastry. This "pasta" is called, "Frutos Secos." A variety of lightly candied nuts a top a tart shell filled with a mixed fruit marmalade. The whole nut family is in there! Walnuts, pistacchio, hazelnuts, chestnuts, almonds. Seeds, such as pumpkin, sunflower, and even sesame, are sometimes added. The crunch of the nuts contracts with the smooth tart flavored filling, which I promise you is not lacking of. It's too big to hold in your hand and take bites of so a pee wee spoon is necessary. And despite the hefty amount of sugar in this breakfast badboy, it is rich in proteins and omega 3's because of the nuts, giving you enough energy in the morning to thoroughly enjoy that trip to the museum that is conveniently right next door!
This is what we call a Granita. Move over Starbucks and Dunkin Donut's! Because NOTHING you have can compare to this little baby. A coffee granita is a specialty in Roma Caffes. They are made by freezing expresso, then shaving off the ice into chunks and refreezing it. It can also come in flavors such as Lemon, Strawberry, Orange. At what is said to be the best coffee near the Pantheon: Sant Eustachio, how could I choose anything else? Eaten with a spoon, both the flavor and the consistency is thick. Whipped cream, light and not too sweet, at the top AND the bottom for a delectible finish. Too small in my opinion but worth paying for another one. I will never be able to enjoy a frappuccino from Starbucks ever again after knowing this exists in the world.
Even though they can get around the corner back home, erveryone comes to Rome wanting the same thing: Pizza! But certainly don't expect anything that is at your local pizza place! Basic "plain" pizza is called "Pizza Margherita" consisting of tomato sauce and mozzarella. The most interesting pizza is what is labeled in most pizzerias as the "house" pizza: a pizza margherita topped with olives, a hunk of salami or other similar meat, olives, mushrooms, artichokes and yes, that's a hard boiled egg on there. Sometimes the egg is even cooked INTO the pizza and melts with the cheese. Sounds disgusting? NO! Pizza and eggs should always go together. My go-to has become "Quatro Formaggi" (Even though Italian cheese is so delicious, I wouldn't mind adding another one in there.) The pizza comes in one personal size. No one shares these and you never feel too full afterwards. The crust is always thin and you know your pizza is homemade because the circular shape is anything but perfect. The flavor undeniably is, though. It's got character! Beware: I HAVE had BAD pizza. Stay away from chain pizzerias and anywhere that let's you take the pizza to-go. If you want to eat pizza where you live, you should make it yourself!
Thursday night is "Gnocchi Night" here in Rome. If you've never had gnocchi, TRY IT. Or wait till you visit Roma. It is unlike any pasta dish I've tried before. (Note: The "G" is silent NEO-KEY) Tiny potato dumplings served as an entree with a sauce that can come with any pasta. Always cheese added. It is easy to tell the good gnocchi from the bad because of the texture. The potato inside the noodle can become too chewy and stick to the roof of you're mouth, making it unpleasant. Like I said, should only be enjoyed on Thursdays!
Each day in "La Dolce Vita" always should begin in the morning with a cappucino or expresso and one of these. This is NOT your average breakfast pastry. This "pasta" is called, "Frutos Secos." A variety of lightly candied nuts a top a tart shell filled with a mixed fruit marmalade. The whole nut family is in there! Walnuts, pistacchio, hazelnuts, chestnuts, almonds. Seeds, such as pumpkin, sunflower, and even sesame, are sometimes added. The crunch of the nuts contracts with the smooth tart flavored filling, which I promise you is not lacking of. It's too big to hold in your hand and take bites of so a pee wee spoon is necessary. And despite the hefty amount of sugar in this breakfast badboy, it is rich in proteins and omega 3's because of the nuts, giving you enough energy in the morning to thoroughly enjoy that trip to the museum that is conveniently right next door!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
"Put THAT on your Resume"
Bad and Good.
Bad.
It's a little after midnight and I'm in the middle of nowhere. (I had just left a wonderful sushi dinner at Casa Trastevere, where I made sushi for the first time! Homemade sushi, miso soup, sitting on cushions using the most chic sushi tableware with dim lighting.) Memories of a delightful meal fade after chasing down the "H" Bus, flagging down the angry old driver, and banging on the doors until they are opened against their will. Turns out I didn't want to be on that bus anyway. I had taken the bus in the opposite direction. Oops. The driver tries his best to communicate to me that the bus line has finished for the evening and to exit. "Niente!" Trying not to panic, I call Maria to find out my location. The night buses aren't running in my location so I flag down a taxi. I only have 10 euros on me and that's how much it is to get back to where I started. I'm about to get out of the taxi and he asks me where I actually need to go and he drives me all the way to the exact location of my apartment. I kissed him on the cheek to thank him and was reminded how much I love people in this world.
Good.
Maria and I, each having about two hours of sleep, embark on the train to Cinque Terre. I ask everyone that I meet here the same question: "What's the one thing I have to do in Italy?" Everyone says the same thing: the grand hike along the coast of the Italian riviera through the five towns. We arrive only to find out from a mean woman that most of the trail is closed off due to the danger caused by the past week of constant rain. We don't let that "rain" on our parade because hey, life could be worse...our job could be that mean woman's who has to tell everyone the parts that are closed. It just so happens that this day is one of the most beautiful, sunny days that I've seen in all my time here. Caffeine and morning pastries to fuel us, we begin the hike. Each town is more picturesque than the next. We find our own paths, one leading down, step after step, to the sea. The waves crash upon a jetty and I played a game running back and forth trying not to get wet. Vernazza was the best town filled with the first sign of sand, collections of boats, cute art galleries, great views. Instead of paying overpriced meals at sit down restaurants, we got the most delicious pesto pasta with focaccia bread for a STEAL at a great little place that probably gets overlooked due to the giant photo of a hot dog outside their store window. We got our food to "take away" and sat on the rocks looking out into the water. The last town is the beach with rocks so precious I wanted to fill my bag with them. We take off our shoes and soak our feet in the water that is still a little too cold to swim in but perfect to dip in after a long day of walking. There's a giant rock that screams for us to climb it. We make some friends from the US at the top. A quick stop for gelato, of course. It's almost required being at the beach!
Our train home had a 30 minute layover in Pisa. I could not have stayed in the Pisa train station knowing that I didn't even try to see the leaning tower. In a split second decision, we picked up our bags and sprinted through the streets of Pisa, across the bridge, in search of the famous monument. I kid you not, we must have looked like we were running from a robbery. We get there, snap pictures for about 48 seconds then start our run back to the train station. I kept shouting back how much time we had left to Maria. 8 MINUTES. I offered a woman 5 euros to drive us but she didn't have enough room and at one point, we jumped onto a bus and jumped off at the next stop. I get into the train station knowing that the train has already left, throw up my hands in the air and scream to the train station, "WHERE'S TRACK 12???" Standing there on the track, the train had clearly left. Plan B: Maria and I spend an extra hour sitting on a bench in a piazza in Pisa watching a fountain and drinking beers. At least I can put THAT on my resume.
Bad.
It's a little after midnight and I'm in the middle of nowhere. (I had just left a wonderful sushi dinner at Casa Trastevere, where I made sushi for the first time! Homemade sushi, miso soup, sitting on cushions using the most chic sushi tableware with dim lighting.) Memories of a delightful meal fade after chasing down the "H" Bus, flagging down the angry old driver, and banging on the doors until they are opened against their will. Turns out I didn't want to be on that bus anyway. I had taken the bus in the opposite direction. Oops. The driver tries his best to communicate to me that the bus line has finished for the evening and to exit. "Niente!" Trying not to panic, I call Maria to find out my location. The night buses aren't running in my location so I flag down a taxi. I only have 10 euros on me and that's how much it is to get back to where I started. I'm about to get out of the taxi and he asks me where I actually need to go and he drives me all the way to the exact location of my apartment. I kissed him on the cheek to thank him and was reminded how much I love people in this world.
Good.
Maria and I, each having about two hours of sleep, embark on the train to Cinque Terre. I ask everyone that I meet here the same question: "What's the one thing I have to do in Italy?" Everyone says the same thing: the grand hike along the coast of the Italian riviera through the five towns. We arrive only to find out from a mean woman that most of the trail is closed off due to the danger caused by the past week of constant rain. We don't let that "rain" on our parade because hey, life could be worse...our job could be that mean woman's who has to tell everyone the parts that are closed. It just so happens that this day is one of the most beautiful, sunny days that I've seen in all my time here. Caffeine and morning pastries to fuel us, we begin the hike. Each town is more picturesque than the next. We find our own paths, one leading down, step after step, to the sea. The waves crash upon a jetty and I played a game running back and forth trying not to get wet. Vernazza was the best town filled with the first sign of sand, collections of boats, cute art galleries, great views. Instead of paying overpriced meals at sit down restaurants, we got the most delicious pesto pasta with focaccia bread for a STEAL at a great little place that probably gets overlooked due to the giant photo of a hot dog outside their store window. We got our food to "take away" and sat on the rocks looking out into the water. The last town is the beach with rocks so precious I wanted to fill my bag with them. We take off our shoes and soak our feet in the water that is still a little too cold to swim in but perfect to dip in after a long day of walking. There's a giant rock that screams for us to climb it. We make some friends from the US at the top. A quick stop for gelato, of course. It's almost required being at the beach!
Our train home had a 30 minute layover in Pisa. I could not have stayed in the Pisa train station knowing that I didn't even try to see the leaning tower. In a split second decision, we picked up our bags and sprinted through the streets of Pisa, across the bridge, in search of the famous monument. I kid you not, we must have looked like we were running from a robbery. We get there, snap pictures for about 48 seconds then start our run back to the train station. I kept shouting back how much time we had left to Maria. 8 MINUTES. I offered a woman 5 euros to drive us but she didn't have enough room and at one point, we jumped onto a bus and jumped off at the next stop. I get into the train station knowing that the train has already left, throw up my hands in the air and scream to the train station, "WHERE'S TRACK 12???" Standing there on the track, the train had clearly left. Plan B: Maria and I spend an extra hour sitting on a bench in a piazza in Pisa watching a fountain and drinking beers. At least I can put THAT on my resume.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Round Two
Out and About: Things I love about Italy.
How NO ONE here has heard of this book.
Reading Italian travel books.
Singing “God Help the Outcasts” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame every time I walk down the aisle of the church Basilicas.
Tourists that color coordinate.
Funny postcards.
How the thing I HATED most Day 2 is the thing I LOVE the most Day 18.
Looking at the tourists instead of the famous sites.
Taking pictures of quotes in Italian so that I can go home and translate them.
The interesting ways people ask other people for money.
Feeling a little down, then turning the corner and finding this.
How NO ONE here has heard of this book.
Reading Italian travel books.
Singing “God Help the Outcasts” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame every time I walk down the aisle of the church Basilicas.
Tourists that color coordinate.
Funny postcards.
How the thing I HATED most Day 2 is the thing I LOVE the most Day 18.
Looking at the tourists instead of the famous sites.
Taking pictures of quotes in Italian so that I can go home and translate them.
The interesting ways people ask other people for money.
Feeling a little down, then turning the corner and finding this.
My New Neighbors
COW (Curious Old Woman) and Spiderman.
Who knew Spiderman moved to Rome!? Yeah, be jealous. Not everyone has Spiddie living across from them.
Who knew Spiderman moved to Rome!? Yeah, be jealous. Not everyone has Spiddie living across from them.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
My Foreign Excursion
So I’m sure you are wondering:
“Callie, what are you REALLY doing in Rome?”
To be honest, I ask myself that question out loud every day. The answer to that question varies often but let me break it down into simple facts.
Current Events in La Dolce Vita de Callie Brennan:
1. I’m living in an apartment (that currently has no internet, hence the lack of communication).
2. I see amazing art every day (whether I set out to or not).
3. I’m eating enormous amounts of foods and gelato ( aka packin’ on the pounds and happily).
4. I wander the city during the day (physically AND mentally).
5. I’m interning with a photographer a couple times a week (taking pictures every day).
Rome has become my playground, my world to explore. Honestly, it’s kind of like living in heaven. Every day is different and has its highs and lows but daily discoveries, both big and small, are what I love the most about this city. I’m getting to know a city. Rome and I are at the beginning of a relationship, who knows how long it will last or what it will mean in the end. You never think about the end of a relationship when it’s starting. It’s like that quote from Hope Floats: “Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will...”
There are a ton of things I have to say and, if you know me at all, you know that I have already taken over a 1000 photos. Stay tuned.
“Callie, what are you REALLY doing in Rome?”
To be honest, I ask myself that question out loud every day. The answer to that question varies often but let me break it down into simple facts.
Current Events in La Dolce Vita de Callie Brennan:
1. I’m living in an apartment (that currently has no internet, hence the lack of communication).
2. I see amazing art every day (whether I set out to or not).
3. I’m eating enormous amounts of foods and gelato ( aka packin’ on the pounds and happily).
4. I wander the city during the day (physically AND mentally).
5. I’m interning with a photographer a couple times a week (taking pictures every day).
Rome has become my playground, my world to explore. Honestly, it’s kind of like living in heaven. Every day is different and has its highs and lows but daily discoveries, both big and small, are what I love the most about this city. I’m getting to know a city. Rome and I are at the beginning of a relationship, who knows how long it will last or what it will mean in the end. You never think about the end of a relationship when it’s starting. It’s like that quote from Hope Floats: “Beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will...”
There are a ton of things I have to say and, if you know me at all, you know that I have already taken over a 1000 photos. Stay tuned.
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