La Dolce Vita Winter-Style, Part Two

A few nights later it was pouring, so we chose Pierluigi (Piazza De' Ricci, 144; tele: 011 39 06 686 1302), which came highly recommended and was close to the apartment. It had its share of regulars, but I think we could've been regulars in two visits, hands down. I spoke to the waiter in Italian, and he answered in English, obviously making it clear that his English was better than my Italian--which always ticks me off--but at least he and the staff were gracious.

Da Alfredo e Ada (Via dei Banchi Nuovi, 14; tele: 011 39 06 687 8842) has been in business for 72 years, Ada, of Alfredo e Ada fame, told me. At 87 years old, and with Alfredo gone, she's now more hostess than cook. No one in the place spoke English, which was perfectly fine with me; another opportunity to polish my pretty damn good Italian. There were no menus--a plus, as far as we were concerned; we knew we were in capable hands.

As we sat down, Ada's son brought a carafe of vino della casa to the table, along with bread. A minute later, I saw Jerry toasting Ada, who was sitting back near the kitchen. When her son later brought us a pasta dish, Ada hip-checked him out of the way, wanting to chat a bit. Her Italian was rapid-fire, and I caught little, so I jumped in and told her my ancestors were from Le Marche, on the Adriatic coast. At first she just held her heart, alarming me, and then she opened her arms and enveloped me, kissing the top of my head. (Luckily I was seated, as she was probably less than 5 feet tall.) Evidently, she was born in Le Marche, and that sealed an instant bond. After that, the food seemed superfluous. Conversation was so delightful that her son served us a meat course and I completely draw a blank as to what it was. I do remember dessert: ciambelloni--circular cookies that Jerry described as looking like a baby's teething ring. We were instructed to dip the cookies in the white wine that had been served with dinner.

Lest you think the only thing we did was eat--though, let's be honest, what else does one want to do in Rome but eat?--we did take one little-known tour. We scored tickets for Scavi. I rarely use the word awesome, but here it goes: It was awesome, as in filling one with awe. Scavi is the excavation two stories below St. Peter's. Because they only allow 200 people per day to visit, you have to request tickets months in advance during peak season, but I was able to book them just eight days before we left.

We walked on the same surfaces that Romans walked on in 400AD. In 1939 workers digging a tomb for the deceased Pope Pius XI broke through a wall and rediscovered the necropolis. The above link tells the whole story. Above ground, St. Peter's was empty. It was like having a private audience with the pope himself. Okay, maybe not, but there was at least no line for the restroom.

Later we revisited the Pantheon and sat admiring its architecture, then walked to areas we'd never been before, not knowing when we'd happen across a deserted ruin.

Rome's "awesome," especially in January.