The American Farmer’s Table

I moved to Rome after college with not much of a plan but to try and learn the language and find some type of work to immerse myself in Italian culture and I got really lucky.  Two brothers who owned a small furniture restoration shop in the heart of the city (Campo dei Fiori) took me into their lives and gave me an opportunity to live like a Roman artisan.  The work itself was not for me. Growing up, I deservedly earned the nickname the “bull” from my father for my full steam approach towards things and my personality and the painstakingly tedious craft of restoration was a recipe for disaster.  The brothers learned quickly about my way of doing things and there was always a watchful eye over every move I made inside the cluttered shop and, “Matteo, che cazzo stai facendo?”  (Matteo, what the hell are you doing) was pretty much a daily expression in the bottega.  But while I definitely lacked a burning passion for learning the finer nuances about restoring European antiques to their splendor, I became enamored with the Italian lifestyle.  My absolute favorite part of the day were the elaborate lunches we would create at the shop.  They would begin with a walk to the outdoor market to shop for ingredients that usually included a stop at the neighborhood bar for an espresso.  Back at the shop, a makeshift dining area would be fashioned from whatever furniture we were working on, and lunch prepared over a one burner stove that always included some type of pasta, fresh cheeses, cured meats, and wine.  Friends and family often stopped by to say hello and have a bite and a bit to drink and animated conversations would flow, transforming the dusty room into a trattoria-like ambience.  I remember always being in awe at how food was such an integral part of Italian culture and how much passion Italians shared for their local ingredients and the sacred daily rituals of eating.

During my second year there, Melissa and I began hanging out, and our shared interest in Italian food and wine brought us together on culinary journeys throughout the country.      Our travels exposed us to the wonders of authentic rural regional cuisine and I was blown away by the simplicity and goodness of it all.   After experiencing the authentic rustic cuisine in towns and cities outside of Rome, I came to the conclusion while Roman cooking as a whole was good, there was another world of Italian food to explore that went way beyond Pasta Carbonara and Pizza Bianca.  This early discovery of the bounties of Italy’s regional delicacies became the guiding light and focus of the next ten years of our lives that continues today.  On a recent trip to the Eternal City however, we were reminded of perhaps the pinnacle of Roman cuisine: Spring vegetables.  At our favorite wine bar, Cul de Sac, near to Piazza Navona, we were served a medley of stewed Spring vegetables in a small crock.  They weren’t vibrant green in color, rather a dull green / gray, but their flavor resonated with everything that makes Spring great.  Creamy fava beans, tender baby artichokes, and slightly bitter local greens awakened our palettes from their winter slumber and made us excited for the arrival of warm weather back home.  In our version of this Roman inspired dish we took advantage of whatever green vegetable we could find at home and paired it with a creamy buffalo mozzarella.  It makes for a great lunch for living la dolce vita wherever one may be.