FIVE GUYS & ME - Rome via Siena - Goodbye Europe

FIVE GUYS & ME
Rome via Siena

Goodbye Europe

The next morning, I reluctantly crawled out of bed and started to pack, leaving behind my sweet dreams of Michelangelo’s David and the Ponte Vecchio bridge and cheeseburgers w/ Leo at Harry’s Bar. It was time to leave Florence. I didn’t want to leave Florence… but since I was an unemployed American freelance writer w/ no prospects of employment in a city where I couldn’t speak the language, I saw the handwriting on the piazza wall!

Richard and I met my remaining guys downstairs where we bid farewell to Jason and Jim. Their European adventure was not ending. The Food Network had commandeered them for another show being shot in Ireland, so they packed the Mercedes equipment van and left for the Emerald Isle. I wanted to stowaway, but if you’ve ever seen the inside of a TV equipment van, you’d know I’d have to be as thin as one of Jason’s light poles to fit in… I’m not.

After we waved goodbye, Richard and Charlie packed the Passat and we took off for Rome – well, actually the Hilton Rome Airport Hotel.  Because we wouldn’t have time to “see” Rome in the couple of hours we would have if we drove straight there, we decided to enjoy the ride through the beautiful Tuscany hills and stop for lunch in the small, ancient town of Siena… (duh – name one that isn’t).

A piece of trivia: Siena is the home of the world’s oldest banking establishment which was founded in 1472 – 20 years before Columbus discovered the “new land.”

Since no cars are allowed in Siena’s city walls, we parked below and walked up to the town. We were definitely not in Kansas (well, in our case LA). Charming. Quaint. Medieval! Picturesque! Did I mention old!?!? So old in fact that the Lombards, the city’s oldest aristocratic family dates back to 774 A.D. when they surrendered to Charlemagne… I’m assuming the city was built long before then. Who knows – maybe Caesar slept there.

As we walked by the Mediterranean-style homes and buildings, some w/ laundry drying on clotheslines outside the windows, we decided to eat first and sightsee later.

We found our way to the city’s famous Piazza del Campo, a shell-shaped, sloping town square surrounded by buildings and outdoor cafes.

We chose the first cafe we saw and grabbed a table under the burgundy colored canopy.

I wish I could remember what Charlie or Richard or I had for our lunch entrees (I had left my notepad in the car), but I do remember that we loved every bite of cheese, proscuitto, olives and bread we found sitting on our table. AND, I do remember that the red table wine we ordered was pretty fine. As we chewed and swallowed and sipped and swallowed and talked between chewing, sipping and swallowing, we gazed at the piazza and people-watched.

At a nearby table, two priests communed over a carafe of wine.

Lunch over, we walked the town square and found a station wagon housing owls and falcons for a flying demonstration later that day…

We explored the beautiful Duomo, the Cathedral of Siena completed in 1380 and the ‘spit and image’ of the breathtaking (literally, in my case) 15th century Il Duomo (the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore) in Florence...

it even has a similar (albeit smaller) bell tower…

We discovered history-filled ancient buildings ...

and alleyways...

 and streets.

On one street, the pigeons were so happy to see us that one you know what on Richard’s shoulder.

An old wives’ tale claims that’s a sign of good fortune, but all Richard knew was that he wanted to take off his tee and pull off one of the shirts drying on a nearby clothesline. He didn’t, of course, so he chose to believe that old wives’ tale and that good luck would follow him back to the States.

Our time in Siena was over. Back at the car, Richard changed his shirt and it was off to Rome – well, our airport hotel.

We checked in, had a nice dinner in the hotel’s Le Colonne restaurant, said good bye to Charlie who wasn’t going home w/ us, and immediately went to bed. We had to be at the airport at 4:30 – 5:00 a.m. But no problem. We chose the Hilton Rome because we didn’t want to deal w/ finding a cab or Rome traffic. We could walk to the airport – really! So in the wee morning hours, we just walked right through hotel doors and onto a ‘conveyer belt’ sidewalk that took us directly into the terminal where we easily found our gate. I don’t think I’ve ever had an easier “going to the airport” experience.

Sad as I was to leave Europe, and I was really, really sad… it was the perfect ‘exit’ for my 5 guys & me Food Network adventure. Well, that and upgrading our tickets to business class for the plane ride home.

FIVE GUYS & ME-Florence-Day 2-Gushing & Gawking

FIVE GUYS & ME

Florence, Italy

Day Two – Gushing & Gasping

Waking up each morning in Europe was a thrill. But waking up in Florence to the slight din of Vespas careening on the street outside our window filled me w/ excitement and anticipation. My heart beat faster and not from the rich coffee we had at breakfast. I still couldn’t believe we were in Florence! Florence! (Obviously I was way over the internal hissy fit I’d when we arrived the day before.)

We finished our espresso. Our museum appointment to see Michelangelo’s David was our first stop. David! “The” David! As we walked, we passed a replica standing proudly outside in a piazza where all the Firenze pigeons proudly perch. They may not know much about art, but they know what they like.

But words leave me when I try to describe the feeling I had when I walked into the gallery where the real David stood reaching 100 feet in the air. OK – I’m exaggerating, but it seemed like a hundred feet to me. I gushed! I gasped! He was magnificent. So much bigger than I imagined him to be. So much more beautiful. I wanted to take pictures. We weren’t allowed. I wanted to touch the marble. Another no no. So I stared… then circled a bit around him and stared… then circled him a bit more and stared. I don’t think I let out the air I sucked in when I gasped until I completed encircled him w/ my stares. He was stare cased.

Breathing steadily again, we left the museum… my gushing and gasping over. Or so I thought. But, as we walked the streets art was everywhere! In piazzas!

On outside walls!

In archways!

On buildings!

Everywhere! My gushing and gasping almost overwhelmed me. It was time to stop my racing heart. And the only way to do that, of course, was to shop!

We made our way through alleyways and promenades where the city’s ‘undead’ (translation: alive) artists peddled their wares

and performance artists dressed and posed as statues for hours.

Finally, we reached the Ponte Vecchio and its gazillion jewelry and souvenir shops. The very bridge where Dante, himself, once walked and mused poetically.

Ponte Vecchio, one of the most famous bridges in the world, was originally built in 996, it was destroyed and rebuilt a number of times, the last incarnation of which was in 1345. Oddly enough, when the Germans fled Florence on August 4, l944 (the day Anne Frank was arrested) they left the bridge standing after burning every other bridge in the city. (August 4th is also my birthday.)

Sadly, the dollar in Europe wasn’t great and there weren’t too many bargains, so my heart slowed down to a normal beat as we window shopped and took in the view from the bridge.

It was getting late and my stomach began to growl. Time to eat. Since first reading Hemingway in high school, I had always wanted to eat at Harry’s Bar. I never had the chance in Paris, but the famed Florence Harry’s Bar was within walking distance. We strolled alongside the Arno River, the street lined w/ Vespas, till we found the restaurant.

Only a few lunch patrons were left lingering over espresso in the main dining room. We took a table in the bar by the window and began to chat w/ the dapper, elderly man behind the bar. The rooms had that wonderful ‘bar/saloon’ ambience with dim lighting, dark mahogany wainscoting and pink tablecloths and I felt I was ‘home’… atmospherically speaking.

Studying the menu, Richard asked him what “Leo’s salad” was. The man smiled. “I’m Leo and the salad is named for me.” Well, of course, Richard had to have it. He loved it… though the delicious dressing’s secret ingredient was kept a secret.

Nothing so healthful for me. There was a cheeseburger on the menu! I wanted the cheeseburger! I had to have the cheeseburger! No surprise to anyone who’s been reading my blog over time. It was perfect! I kvelled.

While we waited for our food, Leo, who started off at the restaurant as a bus boy when it first opened more than 50 years ago, was now, for all intents and purposes, “Harry,” overseeing the various Harry’s Bars around the world. Leo and Richard bonded over Herb Caen, the famous San Francisco columnist, who often visited the bar. Leo regaled us w/ tales of Hemingway and showed us the broken chair he kept in the back… a chair (so the story goes) that Papa smashed in a bar fight decades ago.

We were reluctant to say goodbye, but it was almost time to meet the ‘guys’ for drinks and dinner. We promised Leo we’d be back someday.

Someday ended up being later that same day.

After having a cocktail at the little bar in our hotel and hearing about Leo, the guys decided they wanted to go there for “appetizers” – so off we went.

 Leo was thrilled to see us again and bought us a round of Bellinis, the bar’s signature cocktail (he also makes a mean vodka martini).

Then, out came nibbles – my favorite – grilled cheese sliders! We wanted to stay for dinner, but had made a reservation at a recommended trattoria that turned out to be our only disappointment in Florence and will, therefore, be unnamed.

But the night remained memorable because of Harry’s Bar and Leo.

They say all good things must end - and our 'good' stay in Florence was ending... we were leaving in the morning... driving to an airport hotel in Rome w/ a lunch stop in Siena. My “five guys & me” Food Network adventure was almost over.