Bringing Home Rome An unforgettable experience keeps travel memories alive. | BY KATE SILVER
I
t’s been more than a year since I spent a week in Rome, and the memories have begun to fade. Those incredible meals have started to meld together. My once-vibrant visions of attractions and artwork have dulled around the edges. The punch lines of jokes shared with travel companions have lost their zing. But there’s one aspect of my trip I always can tap into: a cooking class where I learned to prepare two classic Italian recipes. Gambero Rosso is a household name in Italy. A food and wine powerhouse, it produces a magazine, publishes wine and restaurant ratings, has its own food channel, and owns Città del gusto, a 107,000-square-foot complex that’s home to a cooking school, wine bar and television studios. As luck would have it, when I was visiting, Gambero Rosso was offering a class on two oh-so-Italian dishes: spaghetti alla carbonara and veal saltimbocca. Our class of 10 watched as chef Luca Ogliotti demonstrated. He timed his carbonara perfectly, preparing the pasta al dente as the pork cheek crisped, filling the air with its sultry aroma. He then combined the two, added egg and cheese, and stirred the dish to creamy, chewy perfection. He invited us to try a bite before tackling the recipe ourselves; it looked ridiculously easy and tasted like it had been prepared by a Roman god. I headed back to my workstation, and it didn’t take me long to realize why I’m not a professional chef. My timing was off. My noodles cooked too quickly. My pork took too long. The rest of the class was almost done devouring their creations by the time I sunk a fork into mine. But it was worth the wait. My stress about lagging behind vanished as I cleaned my bowl. A similar scenario ensued with the veal, but this time I enjoyed the challenge of catching up to the others. Now I’m home, nearly 5,000 miles from the Eternal City, and at times I find myself feeling a bit Rome-sick. The city does that to you, seducing you in a way that you don’t even realize until you’re back in your daily grind. But when that happens, I pull up my travel photos, open a bottle of Italian wine and put a pot of water on the stove. I’ve got it down to a science now. My meat sizzles while my noodles boil. I stir in the egg and cheese. I think back to the class, the people, the food, the amazing adventure. And I take comfort in knowing that any time my heart so desires, I can bring Rome into the comfort of my own home.
artfullivingmagazine.com
| Summer 2015
141