Tasse (Taxes)
It’s a big world
My editor missed a few typos in the newsletter yesterday—I’ll let them off the hook because of the rather noisy train car, poor Wi-Fi connection, and sticky keyboard.
When my train got to Rome, I had a relatively easy transfer to the Metro and then a quick walk to my Airbnb. Since I’ll be staying here a few days, it was nice to fully unpack and feel a bit more settled in one place.
Then it was time to explore a bit before dinner!
My first impression of Rome was the noise. Although honking is illegal (can you even imagine?!), this feels like a car city. Such a contrast to the stillness of Venice—I did feel a bit of whiplash. The New Yorker in me is somehow afraid to jaywalk all of a sudden because the driving energy feels extra chaotic.
I was immediately taken by the scale of everything. Forget Texas—everything is bigger in Rome (the buildings certainly are at least). As I walked along the border of Vatican City, I could already feel the power of the Catholic church in the bones and arteries of this place. I don’t know how many churches per capita there are in Rome, but it seemed like there was at least one on every block.
And then I felt a shift—I had made it to Trastevere.
I was immediately charmed by the energy of the neighborhood. Although I eventually realized that there were tourists everywhere (how could we all help it, this was the spot!), there was the kind of buzz and mood that makes you feel ten years younger in a good way.
I dined at Glass Hostaria, where I treated myself to the tasting menu, which promised modern takes on Italian dishes from north to south. I guess at 8pm I was dining early, so I started my dinner in a mostly-empty dining room with the late 90s stylings of Ben Folds Five. The chef—who I met briefly—spent her formative cooking years in San Francisco and Austin during that era and you could feel it.
Eventually other diners settled in, which allowed me the chance to people watch between courses. My highlight was a table of five—one British-Austrian couple and the rest gentlemen from Switzerland and Italy. I’ll fail to properly describe how posh they were, but imagine the accent of a stereotypical Bond villain, specifically Kamal Khan, the villain of the terrible but amazing 1983 Octopussy. These folks were the inspiration for such characters. The bone structure of the lady was stunning, I tried not to stare.
I learned that Portugal is great for “tax refugees” (i.e. tax evaders — they had several friends just move there recently), that you should put your capital gains in Malta (they don’t check for residency so you’re good), that Americans import culture and globalize it (coffee and pizza, they’re not totally wrong), and that one of their daughters was involved in Fyre Fest.
I had seven courses, but my favorites were:
A raw oyster topped with tapioca pearls, Jerusalem artichoke foam, rose petals
Homemade bread with virgin olive oil foam
Tiny star pasta with miso butter, calamari, grated squid ink, and Calabrian chili oil
Horrified but fascinated with my fellow diners, eventually it was time to leave and visit the Pantheon, which the Irish ladies had told me in Venice was life-changing.
As I turned the corner, I was not mentally prepared for its scale.
I’ve never been a fan of Corinthian columns (always been a Doric girl), but wow. I finally understood the big deal. Looking at something built over 2,000 years ago and realizing the possibilities we can achieve as humans did make my eyes a bit watery, I won’t lie. Although the scale was smaller than being in a Redwood Forest, it was akin to that—I felt incredibly small in the most beautiful way. We are all just specks in the universe after all.
Then this speck walked back home to Prati, appreciating tiny Italian cars.
