Il Blizzard is the new word of the moment, screaming from newspapers and television and radio weather reports.
Isabel searches for Il Blizzard
As the word is new to many Italians, newspapers thoughtfully translate it as “big storm”. Romans now conjugate the verb ironically — for example, while looking out at the dark grey sky (with temperatures well above freezing), say : “blizzardiamo?” (shall we blizzard ?) As we use our car almost never, the mayor’s edict — till noon on Saturday — that all drivers use chains or snow tires means to us not a whit. In any case, we have neither chains or tires. Most Romans have neither. Almost no one is driving.
While our 67 terrace pots (geraniums, lemon trees and other delicates), inside now for one week, quietly turn yellow in our dining room, we are, as are tens of thousands of other Romans, off to food shop. As we walk to to the market, we step on sodden Carnival confetti…
We look around hopefully for signs of the 30 centimeters (12 inches) Mayor Alemanno has promised us this time around (therefore no school for the fourth day this week.)
No snow.
This time the hardware store has helped us be prepared, and is selling snow shovels.
I stop at the market to see what is what, and smell that lovely odor of wood smoke : the merchants have made a little fire to keep them warm on this damp day.
The little fire to warm hands on a damp day
I also find the usual remarkable collection of seasonal delights.
Guido selects for me some little winter salads that he picked this morning from his garden.
Guido selects the winter salads - from his garden
The romanesco artichokes, local, have at last arrived !
My beloved puntarelle, a perfection of a winter’s-day salad.
Vincenzo, my legume man, who is also a supplier to the American Academy Sustainable Food project, reports brisk business in lentils from Pantelleria, dried fava beans (to accompany ciccoria, chickory, sauteed with garlic and hot pepper), dried figs and every variety of bean for soups.
Also mushrooms (from just outside of Rome’s walls), he reports…
and walnuts (Vincenzo sells Italy’s best, from Piedmont.)
At the local COOP, our neighbors are busy shopping.
I ask the manager what they are buying : “quintali e quintali di pane ! Non puoi imaginare quanto pane stanno comprando. Anche la pasta. Ma quanta pasta ! E i pomodori pelati, e’ una cosa eccessiva! ” (Hundreds and hundreds of kilograms of bread. You cannot imagine how much bread ! Also pasta. Also plum tomatoes in excessive quantities !)
If and when the snow arrives, we will slide down the hill to the Pantheon, and marvel in the snow falling throgh the oculus. And hope again for the delight of seeing Rome transformed — if only for a few hours, and if only by an inch or two.
And if it does not snow we shall just eat.
Vincenzo in the market comments : "che macello questo blizzard !" (what a mess this blizzard is !)
Rome is magical under any circumstances.
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Marjorie’s Italy Blog comes to you from Italy and is a regular feature written for curious, independent Italy lovers. It is enjoyed both by current travelers and armchair adventurers.
