Bitter greens

"La cicoria rinnova la memoria," intones a voice behind me. I turn around. It's one of the local old women, grey-haired and slightly stooped. Her sturdy brown sensible shoes are worn out from her continual pounding up and down the pavements of the area. As she goes by, she utters  old sayings or quotes from the bible, and sometimes admonishments to passers-by. She punctuates her words with hand gestures. She doesn't expect an answer. She's a familiar figure on the streets.

cicoria di catalogna

Chicory is just one of the bitter leaves Italians are fond of. In Rome a particular dish called puntarelle alla Romana celebrates the bitter shoots snuggled among the leaves of cicoria di catalogna. Preparing the puntarelle takes time and patience, and knife skills to cut the tiny shoots into slivers that will curl in their ice cold water bath, but the final result served in an emulsion of anchovies and vinegar is worth it. 

The cicoria di catalogna is a mighty vegetable. A bunch will yield riches because once the puntarelle are disposed of there are the leaves and stalks to cook. They are often steamed or sautéed with some garlic or a hint of pepperoncino and then served with a dribble of fine olive oil.

But it is also the season of broccoletti (tender stem broccoli) found in large tufts on market stalls and slightly less fresh in the supermarkets where the yellow flowers can often to be seen flowering from the broccoli heads, a clear sign that the plant is past its best. 

Bieta - chard

Or there are the cime di rapa (turnip tops) which are the centre piece of the pugliese dish of orecchiette con cime di rapa. All these greens have distinct bitterish flavours and are all labour intensive in their preparation phases.

Another generous vegetable is the bietola (chard). Its large leaves and fibrous stalks have different cooking times and they must be cooked separately for optimum results. The stalks can be stewed Sicilian style in tomatoes and anchovies while the leaves may be steamed. Maybe because of the time it takes to prepare these vegetables most Italian supermarkets will sell large bags of ready-prepared and ready-cleaned spinach, bietola or cicoria and there is also the mixed bag option.

Then there are the elderly who are trying to eke out their meagre pensions by picking up leaves  in the fields: dandelions, nettles and wild rocket as well as any herbs they can find.

As for our street crier she is constantly encouraging people to eat their greens, "la bieta per la dieta," and with their high water content and low calories they would be perfect for a diet.

Tomato stewed bieta stalks

Snow and the city

The British Isles are being hammered  and battered by the 'Beast from the East', an abnormally cold weather system. This week Rome woke up to snow. The commune di Roma had taken the precaution the night before of closing all the schools amid jeers and laughter. Nobody thought it would snow, or at least, snow enough to warrant closing the schools. Instead, it did.

Monday morning I pulled up the shutters to a surreal vision. Already from the strange silence I'd guessed that something had happened. An eerie glow through the shutter slats had given an early indication. I faced a pure snowy white roof, to my left the branches of the trees were sagging under the weight of the snow. I peered four floors down at the road all covered in a white slick, I saw some footprints on the pavement. "Oh shit!" was all I could think.

The previous snowy spell had been five years ago and resulted in panic as the Mayor at the time, Alemanno, rather tardily decided to close schools. He was largely criticised for mis-handling the situation and not having paid enough attention to the weather forecast. A week later another flurry being predicted he closed the schools in advance. The flurry was merely a few flakes of lazy melting snow not worth closing down the city for. He couldn't win. Again he was criticised.

This time the town hall had taken pre-emptive action. Sadly, the Mayor Raggi was soundly criticised for being in Mexico, on a world climate summit (irony of ironies), rather than in Rome dealing with the snow hands on. 

In the end my fears came to nothing. Schools were closed so happy children got to spend a day at home and outside playing with unfamiliar snow balls and building small snowmen. In the parks some attempted a little sleighing.  Most public administration offices were closed too. A large part of the bus network ground to a halt though the two metro lines were unaffected. And I and my colleagues got an unexpected day off which was all the more appreciated for having come unexpectedly.

The next day most schools and public administration offices remained closed. Overnight temperatures had dropped to well below seasonal norms and the city authorities had decided to limit road traffic. Nevertheless, as I walked my dog on slippery pavements, I noticed a massive traffic jam was forming in my area. It seemed most people had chosen to go back to work.

Rome isn't a city that deals well with snow, it can barely deal with heavy rain fall. Sewers get blocked and roads turn to rivers. Likewise as the snow rapidly turned to slush and branches that had crashed down from the umbrella pines clogged the drain holes, cold water accumulated along the sides of roads. 

By the third day the temperatures shot up again though there, for a while, remained the threat of more snow, more cold temperatures. It hasn't happened. Now it looks as if Rome is back on its normal course towards the Spring. Anyway there's an election to take care of!