post christmas detox

I had one of the best Christmas of my life. I was with my parents, brother, niece, cousins, uncles and aunties, cousins' babies, friends and Mr. R. In total, between the two families there were around 40 of us.
I had some of the best food, and some of the best conversations. I managed to sit and listen to family tales, to stories about my family and where we come from, and taste the flavor of those roots.
There was a lot of talking and and lot of eating, and now I need to detox. I am enjoying the silence of my apartment and I am craving bland food (at least for a couple of days).
More pics from the feast here

After Red Pants...Orange coat

More colors, this time in Rome.
I was waiting for a friend by the Spanish steps. This areas is always full of both tacky and beautiful looks, making it perfect for people watching.
The tacky looks mainly come from teenagers who linger around the area as part of a mating dance, and are therefore dressed accordingly (lots of gold, high heels, low jeans).
The beautiful looks come from the older, more poised people who can afford to shop or live in this area.
I believe this man belongs to the latter tribe.

Back in Rome- back at home

And I am enjoying it!
I got back from Paris a few days ago and magically the sun has appeared.

The horrible news about the Tiber river overflowing seems to be obsolete now, that the sun is out and the sky is blue.

These days I am making it a point to walk to work, this way I will re-learn my ways around and enjoy fully the beautiful light of Rome. Not that I forgot my route, but maybe I missed a shop opening, or a new gallery display or the new interior decoration of a bar.

Mostly, I am drinking coffee, cappuccino and marocchinos on a daily basis. I am going back to my fav spots and asking for my solito..in fact, I don't even need to ask, I just go in, stand by the counter and smile. The hot foamy perfect drink comes without saying.

Last day in Paris, last minute shopping

On my last day in Paris I realized I still had do do a bunch of presents. Remembering a friend suggestion, I ran out, threw myself in the crowds of Rue de Rivoli and headed to the Carousel du Louvre. This cunning structure is part of the larger Louvre building and it hosts shops and cafes conveniently open 7 days a week from 8:30AM to 8:15 PM.
Among other shops is the official Musee du Luvre boutique where you can find the usual postcards, catalogues, books and a beutiful selection of copies from the museum collection. Jewelry, tapestry and ceramics that make the perfect little gift for a friend who has almost everything, but doens't have a replica of an ancient Roman bracelet.

After picking up a bunch of beautifully wrapped gifts (what else do you expect from the French?) a couple of macaroons for the flight, and after bundling up again, I headed back home.
Rue de Rivoli was still packed, but I could not help noticing these pictures posted outside the Samaritaine building. This beautiful department store has been closed for quite a while as it is undergoing restoration. In the meantime, the pictures posted on its scaffoliding make passerbys remember that the heart of Parisian shopping is still beating.
Pictures show children photographed few minutes after their birth. I thought they were beautiful and joyful. A message of hope for the future.

Lace- pizzi e merletti

Lace has been everywhere this year.
It started with a fabulous and ridiculously priced Prada skirt (it even got a mention in the NYT), from there it went into other designers boutiques, in H&M, Zara, and all the rest. It took various shapes, colors and forms, from Goth to bridal, from gold to the more traditional black.

In Italy, lace (pizzo) is often associated with clergy, brides and funerals, or underwear..but this year things are changing even in Italy. I have seen plenty of evening gowns, skirts, tights all with some sort of lace applied.

While flipping through a magazine and pondering whether I should indulge in this fashion or not, my mom passed by and looking at the pictures in the magazine said something along these lines: " ah, your grandma had a skirt just like that one (pointing at the 7000 $ Prada infamous skirt).
I almost jumped off my chair, asked her if the skirt was still around and to my surprise she said yes! Apparently, the lovely nonna has made herself this skirt suit for my uncle's wedding 42 years ago. Nonna Virginia (Gina) traded in textiles, so she always had beautiful fabrics available, being an excellent seamstress she could make anything she wanted.

Needless to say, I forced my mom to go find the skirt. We looked around everywhere, and finally here it was: black macrame' lace, perfect seams, made to measure..and to my measure!!!
You cannot see the skirt shape, but you can see the lace work ..you will have to trust me in believing it fits perfectly..

Grazie nonna!

(Almost) 101 dalmatians

After bumping into Mr. colored pants I stumbled upon a jolly group of locals walking their pups.
OK, maybe there were not 101, but it was a good number to see on a crowded street on a random day in Paris.
I got the sense that they were all friends, or at least "dog friends" and maybe they were having a reunion to see how the pups were doing...maybe the dogs were all brothers?

A man and his red pants

This can follow under the category of good fashion, but also of "stolen" pictures, since once again I did not have the guts to go up to the man.
I took this picture while I was waiting for some friends outside the metro. It was Saturday morning, gray and grim like many winter mornings here in Paris. I particularly liked the bright red trousers, it seemed like a statement..a way of saying "I dare to put some color in this city".
I like bold statements like this, and I have been noticing more and more of it here in Paris. Maybe it's a way of defeating the grayness of the city?

political post

I saw this sticker in London. It was on the back of a road sign. It was actually Mr. R who noticed it.
It seems to me that it represents a big chunk of the problem with foreign politics these days.

My dad making history in the 60s

A family friend called us the other day about a documentary that was on TV. The documentary was about the students protests going on in Italy and France during the year 1968.
While watching the show one of my relatives recognized my dad! Luckily we managed to download part of the tv show. Here is a short clip. Can you recognize papa'?

the chocolate tree

I just realized I had a picture of the chocolate tree. Unfortunately I too it from my phone, so it is not the best..but you get the idea.
Both tree and decorations are made of chocolate. I know this one would not last long in my house..

Macaroon and Cheese-your new aperitif snack

Last week I went along one of our Chocolate walks in Paris. During the stroll, discussing the new up and coming trends in chocolate making, our docent Camille mentioned the name of Jean Paul Hevin. She told us about the new adventurous road that this maitre chocolatier was taking, by mixing chocolate with cheese. I was intrigued and disgusted at the same time. I love chocolate and I love cheese, but the idea of mixing the two was not exactly mouthwatering.
A few days went by, I realized I didn't remember the name of this revolutionary chocolate master but Camille was on vacation and I did't want to bother her just to satisfy my curiosity.

Then today, on my way to the accountant I noticed a new (to me) shop. A shop with a beautiful Christmas tree dipped in chocolate on display in the window! Blame it on the rain, or just simply on my curiosity but I went in. Mr R. was with me and he was definitely not holding me back!
Once inside the shop I noticed a section of the display case dedicated to a "special breed" of macaroons. The cheese macaroons! Yes, I accidentally bumped into JPH' s boutique on Rue St. Honore!

Needless to say we bought a mini box of these round delights and had them as aperitif..my verdict? Interesting, some actually very good. I particularly liked the curry-roquefort and the Epoisses - cumin, Mr. R is still uncertain and claims he needs another round :-)

Coffee rant

I was reading the NYT and saw this brilliant post by Christoph Niemann about coffee.
I love his graphics and the way he describes his conflictual relationship with the dark beverage.
Coffee to me is a staple, sometimes I think that I drink it because I have been given the possibility of drinking the best coffee in the world for my whole life, and I cannot give up this privilege. In the end, so many people are deprived of this pleasure, it would not feel right to give it up.

And then I moved to Paris.. and I had to give up the idea of good caffeine.
The coffee here is just simply bad, and overpriced. People do not seem to get the point of making a short, creamy coffee. Instead they prefer a long, watery drink that is normally between 1 and 3 Euro. Outrage! Maybe this is the reason Parisian cafes are failing to fill up with clients(at least this is what appeared on a New York Times article not too long ago).

I laugh every time my parents come visit, we go out to a restaurant or to a cafe' and my dad stands near the counter while we wait for our coffee. Not only he keeps an eye on the person making the coffee but he keeps repeating "tres serre' tres serre'" hoping that that will make a difference on the quality of the drink.

Finally, we have a Gaggia coffee machine here in the apartment. The same one we have in Rome.
I had my normal coffee brough in from Italy, I put all my love in the making..but everymorning I have a disappointment. What can I do? Turn to tea for the joy of Mr. R?

The perfect look

While walking around Paris is easy to bump into the perfect look. A lot of it has to do with skinny girls in high heels and designer clothes.
Parisians are in general very concerned with beauty, looks and making everything that represents them flawless. Even fruit stands at the market look like designer boutiques here.

Last weekend I was walking around Rue du Bac. It was rainy and cold in a typical Parisian winter way, strollers were sporting fur coats and umbrella, high heels boots and skinny jeans.

A and I were sans umbrella, walking fast from one corner to the other when we saw this perfect example of effortless style. The girl in front of us was wearing simil-wellington boots, a not so special trench coat, a scarf and the ageless Chanel purse.

You judge.
P.S. Of course I am no sartorialist, so I didn't have the guts to stop the girl and ask her for a photo. Instead A and I followed her until we were close enough and not in need of a flash before taking a picture