The Monday After the Roman Snow

Rome is still deep in the thrall of its rare snow.

I visited my favorite lions in the world today, in Piazza del Popolo, to see if the snow had melted from their flat, granite heads : it had.  The Pantheon however is still wearing a frosty little cap around its dome. Romans march about in their Moon Boots, and the city still wears its festive air. Everyone listens to the unfamiliar crunch-crunch of their feet, with snow beneath, in those sunless alleys where the snow still stands. Nathan Louis, nine, takes advantage today of the second day off from school and goes sledding, down a shadowed, icy hill below Villa Borghese, and food stores and markets, if open at all, have run exceptionally low on produce, milk, pasta and meat.  The polemics between the Civil Protection and Rome’s mayor, Alemanno, are firey and confused, and all the rage in the papers.  The top headline of Il Messagero blares : “Rome between Marvel and Chaos !” Alemanno has declared the city in a state of “catastrophe”, continues to insist that we travel only in cars with snow tires or chains, and has just now announced the third day of school closing, despite the fact that the snow is nearly all gone from all road surfaces.

It seems that everyone is talking about what they are cooking and eating — on the train today, across town (which stopped for long and unexplained pauses) I overheard people on their cellphones, asking : “hai comprato la ricottina ? mi serve  la ricottina !” (Have you got the ricotta ? I need the ricotta !) and “oggi a pranzo i tagliolini, hai capito ?” (the <egg pasta> tagliolini, do you understand ?) While I was purchasing Parmesan today, three people in line ahead of me (all men) were buying polenta. Always interested in these things, I asked them how they would be preparing it. One told me he would be preparing it with gorgonzola for himself, his wife, their grandson, and their dog.  The second said his wife would be cooking it most likely with sausage and a tomato sauce. The third said that his mother was from Venice and would be grilling it, and they would have it with melted fontina. I bought some too. When the next snow flakes start to fall, which is predicted for tonight, I will see how the spirit moves me, as I take out my copper pan and big wooden spoon.

The Snow Emergency continues in Rome.