When we found out a number of weeks ago that we would have a four day vacation November 1-4, all of us started talking and planning. Where did we want to go, and with whom? I didn't have to hesitate. I knew I would go. It's almost two months (!!) since arriving, and I've been feeling the need for some familiar faces, good food, and a lot of love.
Obviously, I went to Naples.
I brought two dear friends with me, Noa and Rachel, who after seeing a number of pictures and hearing a number of stories of my family, wanted to come to Naples for l'Esperienza Gambardella.
The trip couldn't have come at a better time. An experience like this is bound to have both positive and negative effects, and in the days leading up to my trip it was the negative ones that unfortunately were more prevalent. I was feeling frustrated, lonely. I needed a familiar face, a hug, and some love (or bread that is baked with salt*, which is basically the same thing).
(* Side note: Just so you all know, bread in Tuscany is generally baked without salt because the salumi that typically go on panini are salty. This is fine for a sandwich, but not so much when you just want a plain piece of bread).
We arrived at the train station in Naples at about 10 am on Thursday. Matteo met us inside. After I introduced everyone, we walked out to where my uncle was waiting with the car. Instead of heading directly home, Zio Filippo drove us around a bit so that my friends could see a little bit of the city (and so we could get something to eat). We stopped at a bar up on a hill with a view of the city, because there's nothing like a deliciously caloric pastry to start off a weekend dedicated almost entirely to eating.
When we got home, Zia Antonella was (obviously) already cooking. When my aunt welcomes you into her home, whether you know her or not she instantly makes you feel at home. Her happiness and comfort are obvious, and quite contagious. It is a feeling that I miss here in Florence, and something that I was very much in need of.
Pranzo was ready not long after arriving. To start, we ate beautiful rigatoni with a mushroom, sausage and cream sauce. The pasta was hot- no down time between pot and plate. It was also delicious. (And I don't even like mushrooms). The combination of the temperature at which it was served and the creamy consistency of the sauce helped to create a taste that satisfied the soul as much as it did the tongue.
If you're starting to get jealous, prepare yourself. There's more.
For our secondo piatto my aunt made roast beef with vegetable gravy and mashed potatoes. I know, not exactly what you think of when you think Italian, especially Neapolitan, cuisine. But it sure as hell was better than whatever you ate that day. There is something just so uniquely and wonderfully satiating about mashed potatoes.
As if I wasn't happy (and full) enough, there was more. This is a Gambardella family dinner, remember? And because it was a Gambardella family dinner, "more" refers to alcohol. And sweets. (But mostly alcohol).
Our dinner conversation was a little bit of everything. Not unexpectedly, my aunt and uncle were curious about where Rachel and Noa are from, what they study, and the like. Inevitably we also had a discussion about the Neapolitan dialect. We talked about the history and influences of Neapolitan, and how it really is its own language. My aunt and uncle even sat there conjugating verbs in the remote past of Neapolitan, which the nerd in me loved a little too much. It is really beautiful to talk with people like my aunt and uncle, who know so much about their culture and their origins, and who are so proud and happy to identify with them.
After pranzo, which lasted for a few hours, Rachel, Noa and I almost literally could not move. We were all tired from the night before (I slept horribly and they were out late), tired from traveling, and tired from our gluttony. We decided that it was time for a pausa. I think my family expected us to just lay down for a little while. They probably expected us to come back downstairs after an hour or so. But we slept for three hours. In fact, we only woke up when we did because Rachel set an alarm. We easily could have stayed asleep until Friday.
When we did come back downstairs, I couldn't tell if my aunt was impressed or concerned. Either way it didn't matter, because it was almost dinner time. The meal consisted of my favorites: salumi and formaggi (cured meats and cheeses), some of which my aunt already had, and some of which I brought with me from Florence. I picked up some Tuscan specialties, like finocchiona (salame with fennel) and another salame with truffles. (TRUFFLES). And, of course, more wine. And bread.
Despite our three hour pausa, the three of us had absolutely no problems falling asleep that night. Love and carbohydrates make a wonderful but tiring combination.
The next morning, Noa, Rachel and I took la cumana (see my first post about Naples) into the city. We walked first to Piazza Dante, where we unexpectedly found a small outdoor market. Each bancarella (or table) featured a different Neapolitan product (all edible, thankfully). There was cheese, meat, fruit and veggies, bread, wine, olive oil, etc. You know, all the good stuff. The olive oil table had free samples, so we tried some olive oil infused with truffles (TRUFFLES), and another infused with lemon. Both delicious. Noa and Rachel also got pastries (even though we'd eaten Nutella covered bananas, Nutella covered cookies and Nutella covered Nutella for breakfast). We then walked to a small street adjacent to the Piazza where there are a number of book stores. Some are academic in nature (high school students in Italy buy their books), and others were more for anyone. I spent one euro on an adorable miniature copy of I Fioretti di San Francesco. I looked for a miniature Divina Commedia, but I had no luck.
We then walked up towards the National Museum. It started raining at this point, so we decided to go inside. We spent a good few hours there, as the museum is deceptively large. There are a lot of rooms and hallways on the inside of the building that are nearly impossible to envision when you look at it from the outside. We saw a mixture of sculptures, mosaics, paintings and other artifacts, the majority of which come from nearby areas (especially Pompeii and Herculaneum).
Afterwards, we headed towards Galleria Umberto. The Galleria is a kind of mini shopping center covered by an impressive array of windows that make up the entire ceiling. There isn't much to do inside, but it's worth going in just to look up. Next we walked to Piazza del Plebiscito, not a far walk at all, and then down towards Castel Nuovo to get a glimpse of the panorama. The bay of Naples, with Vesuvius in the background, is a sight that I will never get tired of seeing.
At this point we were starving. We ate a late lunch, and then did some shopping. My friends seemed to really love Naples, and that made me really happy. I love being able to share where I come from, and am always pleased when people show an interest.
That night for dinner, Zio Daniele and Zia Pina came over. We ate salsicce (sausages), pepperoncini verdi (sweet green peppers), friarielli (broccoli rabe), and the amazing mozzarella (because Naples is where the real stuff comes from!). Sitting at the dinner table with the Gambardella family really is a special experience. If you've eaten with us, you know exactly what I mean. It's so much more than just eating, although there is a lot of that. (And drinking, too) We tell stories. We laugh with each other and at each other. We talk about the past, the people and history that defines and embodies us. We talk about the future, and the things we want to do together. Some gossip isn't uncommon, and neither is talk about soccer. It is warm, it is loud, it is intense and it is beautiful. And all of it is love. The feeling isn't the easiest thing in the world to describe. It's one of those things you have to experience for yourself.
On Saturday we went into Naples again, this time with my family. We went to see some churches, a must-do activity when traveling in any city in Italy. We first went to the Church of Gesu' Nuovo. I normally find baroque anything really tacky and overbearing, but this church is absolutely exquisite. It is colorful and big, intricate and impressive. Quite different from the second church we saw (across the street), which was the Church of Santa Chiara. It is a gothic era church, and it is very simple (thanks to the Franciscan monks who take care of it). Except for the stained glass windows, which are not nearly as big or as impressive as they are in other parts of Europe, the church is mostly one color (that of the bricks used to build it), and the walls are mostly unadorned. It's interesting how two different Catholic churches, across the street from each other, can be so different even though their principal purpose and intent are the same. It's fitting, perhaps, for Naples. The city, thanks to its history, has so many different influences that it isn't uncommon to find completely different styles of art and architecture next door to each other.
Afterwards, we went to via San Gregorio Armeno, where my uncles have their stores (I spoke about this street in my other post about Naples as well). At his store my Zio Mauro had earrings with the cornetto rosso (a Neapolitan good luck symbol). I asked if I could have a pair, and how much they cost. He looked at me and said "What does the sign on the counter say?"
"Gambardella", I replied.
"Right. And your name is?"
My uncles never make me pay for anything at their stores, but I always feel bad if I don't ask or try. But that's the way they do things. It's more a Neapolitan, or honestly a Meridionale (southern Italian) way of doing things, than a Gambardella thing. Zio Mauro asked if my friends each wanted a pair too. They said yes, and when they tried to pay for them, he said no. If you're here with family, we're going to treat you like family. That's the way it is. I thought for a moment how this would probably never happen in Florence. People just don't think like that. They aren't as inclusive in nature. Almost as soon as I thought it, Zia Antonella added "Mica siamo a Firenze" (It's not like we're in Florence).
After our visit, it was time for pizza. It is an unwritten law that on your first trip to Naples, you must eat la vera pizza napoletana. Pizza is a Neapolitan dish. It was invented there. The origins of the dish come from the needs of the people at the time. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is just jealous that their culture didn't come up with it first.
Zio Daniele's friend works at the pizza place we go to, so we usually have pretty good luck getting a table. I ordered a white pizza with prosciutto and a crust filled with ricotta. (I ordered it mostly for that last part). My friends, on the other hand, decided their first pizza should be the classic pizza margherita. I love seeing people's reaction to new food, especially when I know they're going to like it. After Noa's first bite I looked at her, waiting for her response: "This is the pizza of my dreams".
As if we didn't eat enough at lunch (there was also beer, and a Nutella pizza for dessert), and as if we weren't tired enough (from eating), that night friends of my aunt's were coming over for dinner. My aunt's friend Aurora, who is hilarious and has that great smoker's raspy voice, made arancini (rice balls) and crocche' (potato croquets). Zia Antonella also made my favorite: pasta e piselli (pasta and peas). I wasn't even hungry. My lunch alone was more than the 1300 calories a woman of my size and age is supposed to eat in a day. I didn't need to eat. I shouldn't have eaten.
But I ate. A lot. And I regret nothing.
I'm not entirely sure why my aunt felt the need to tell us that the rice balls are better the next morning for breakfast- I'd eaten more than enough of them- but the first thing I did when I woke up on Sunday was eat two more. She was right.
The day was slow moving. Our food comas from the previous day were still very much lingering, it was raining, and we were tired. We perked up around pranzo time, however. Which is good, because it was delicious. First we ate vermicelli con le vongole (vermicelli with clams). Every single time my aunt makes it, it's amazing. If someone in your family makes it, it isn't as good. Don't start with me. I will fight you.
Next my aunt made spigola (or branzino) with shrimp and calamari. Each portion was wrapped individually in carta di forno (literally means paper for the oven, though I have no idea what we call it in English). This method allows all of the juice, and thus all of the flavor, to stay in one place and make it delicious. It's also aesthetically rather pleasing.
As lunch was ending, the game was starting. Napoli contro Torino. My friends were excited to watch a game with real Neapolitans. Sadly, it wasn't the teams' best game ever. (I still don't want to talk about it). The experience was good though, and I think they enjoyed it. Which is all that matters.
After the game ended, it was time to pack up our things and head to the train station. We almost missed the train- we hit a lot of traffic on the way- but made it in time after dramatically getting dropped off across the street from the station and running, full bags and bellies, all the way to the track.
These four days were easily the best four days in Italy so far. This is due partially, of course, to my family. Just knowing that I can easily get on a train and be to them in two and a half hours is so comforting, and actually being there just brings it to a whole new level of comfort. With my family there is always warmth, always love. Somebody always wants you there. They'll never get sick of you, they'll never kick you out. They'll do anything for you. And they feed you!
It wasn't just my family that made these four days so great, though. It was also the city. Naples is both literally and figuratively a much more colorful city than Florence. In Naples, you are going to see reds and greens and pinks and yellows. The buildings are made with colored materials, in a variety of hues and intensities. Florence, on the other hand, is every shade of beige. These physical aspects of the cities are, at least in my opinion, a reflection of the people. Perhaps this is due to the fact that Naples is a bigger city, but the people are much more active. They're always going places, and always doing it with a smile. They want you to come into their stores and restaurants. They want to share themselves with you. They talk, to each other and to you. Despite the fact that life for a good number of them isn't all that easy, they are always happy. They are happy to be alive. You don't need to be there long to feel that. On the streets in Naples there is so much to hear, yet alone to see. When we were walking down San Gregorio Armeno there was music playing from a cart selling CDs. I had to remind myself that it wasn't a movie, and there wasn't a sound track. Sadly, I've yet to find this feeling, this vibe, in Florence. Because it isn't the vibe the people give off. Florentines are jaded by tourism. They expect you to be either the worst kind of tourist, or the worst kind of American student studying abroad. And I don't blame them- there are sadly a lot of those people here. But I'm not either of those people. I speak the language. I can communicate here. I am an exception. And in Naples, the people welcomed me and gave me an opportunity to prove that. In Florence, no such opportunity has arisen. And that makes adjusting a lot more time consuming, and a lot more difficult.
But enough negatives. Because at the end of the day, the positives outweigh them. If there is anything I'm reminded of when I'm in Naples, it's the importance of looking on the bright side. I am twenty years old and living in Italy (on my parents' dime, no less). I am taking courses that I find intellectually stimulating in addition to being simply enjoyable. I just started interning at a magazine. I adore the other Smithies that I am sharing this experience with. I have this incredible opportunity to grow and to learn and to see and to do. I am a very lucky young lady. And even though there are things here that frustrate me, and even though it's difficult at times, I never let myself forget it.
Besides, negativity is not part of l'Esperienza Gambardella. Just love. ...and bread.
