Meetings ...

One of the things I love about arriving in Genova, is catching up with the people I know.  Last Tuesday I had plans meet up with Outi, an ex-photography workshop client who lives here in the city. Like me, she fell for with this place but unlike me, she managed to move here.

We met where everyone meets, on the steps of Palazzo Ducale, and immediately headed inside for coffee and much-conversation. We had months to catch up on before deciding we would set off for the port area as Outi had international provisions to buy - spices from Thailand and Africa and,being a port city, there are two supermarkets jam-packed with foods from all over the  world.

Lunchtime rolled round and my idea was that lunch at Trattoria Ugo, where she hadn't yet eaten, might be a good idea.  Oh ... it was a very good idea.  They do things with anchovies that really need to be tasted rather than explained.

I worked through the afternoon, fighting a huge desire to nap, then met with Barbara for an aperitivo at the end of her working day.  She took me into one of the old cafes here, down in the ancient part of the city, and we caught up  on much over hot chocolate.

It was a talking/working kind of day.  A good day spent with good people.

The photograph below ... a glimpse of one of my favourite carruggi here.

The Farinata, Genova

Just across the alley from the place where I write and work, while in Genova, is this tiny shop that sells the most delicious farinata, pies and Genovese snacks.

Some days, the scent of the food being cooked down in the wood-fired oven there, almost drives me out of my mind.

I was on my way back from another journey through the caruggi with my camera and voila, the sun created this image ...

A short walk in Genova ...

Really, it was just meant to be a very short walk through the city, with a stop for coffee at my favourite cafe, Caffè Degli Specchi - on Salita Pollaivoli 43/R, then back to work on the book ...

That was THE PLAN.

3 hours later, and I returned home, having met the most interesting Genovese along the way.  I'll write more on them in other posts but it was delightful.

I talked with the man who imports beautiful furniture from India, goods that have been made ethically, both in terms of labour and wood, and sells them here at his shop - Safarà.  You can visit his website here.

I chatted with a designer creating the most exquisite clothes.

I bought my pesto and gnocchi from the women who make the best in the world ... or so says I, this ignorant straniero.

Then down to Bio Soziglia, in Macelli di Sozigli,a for a bio lettuce and 2 tomatoes ... I also popped in at Le Gramole Olioteca while I was down there and bought the most exquisite mozzarella.  I asked for instruction on how to look after it, mostly because I felt slightly intimidated by the quality of it ...  Francesca was kind and explained.  And I was right ask, I didn't know that the cheese can taste better if served at room temperature, nor how long I could keep it for after opening it.

And on back up the hill, for my focaccia from the forno on via Ravecca.  The focaccia is good enough to walk a distance for.

A ciao to Lorenzo at cibi e libri and home ... to eat some of the food I had hunted-gathered. 

A good day, and now ... the book.

Pizzeria Ravecca da Pino, Genoa

I ate more pizza than I should have in Genova but eating becomes very much something I can’t be bothered doing when I’m out wandering ... cooking is even less likely to happen and so the pizzeria across the alley became a second home, specially while Pippa was staying. 

One night, I popped into the kitchen and took a series of photographs at Pizzeria Ravecca.
I liked this one.

Pizzeria Ravecca da Pino, Via Ravecca, 23r - 16128 Genova.

Cibi e Libri - a vegetarian cafe, Genoa

A vegetarian cafe, with a small library and a free-wifi spot, a place where friends meet to talk, eat and take vegetarian cooking classes – Cibi e libri fulfils a number of roles, more than you might imagine when you first pass by the small cafe on via Ravecca, 48R in Genova.

It’s more than a cafe, I noticed this thing about it in the hours I spent there – friends called by, strangers wanted to chat, and Lorenzo makes time for them all.

Lorenzo, the owner of Cibi e libri, took some time to explain how his cafe came into being ...

He started out as a philosophy student then worked as a journalist in television for fifteen years.  He didn’t enjoy the competitive state of mind that existed within that world and began cooking as a way to recover from a stress-filled day.  He also developed a curiousity about the inter-relationship of all things and this led into the art and history of food, including the positive aspects of vegetarianism.

Time passed and he decided, over a period of five years, to give birth to Cibi e libri ... his fourth child, the other three children being his actual flesh and blood.

I was invited to return for the weekly vegetarian course one evening and took photographs as Lorenzo went through the introduction, first the theory and then the cooking.  Students tasted all that was cooked but also made their own attempts, with plenty of space left for discussion and questions.

Cibi e libri also stands out as an ideal cafe for the traveller, offering a vegetarian menu, friendly English-speaking staff and free wifi.  Make sure you check it out if you find yourself in Genova, most especially if you’re vegetarian. Lorenzo is also able to recommend other Italian vegetarian cafes throughout Italy.

For more information you can phone: (+39) 010 24 67 050 email info@cibielibri.it

Eating pizza alone in Genoa

As those who know me will confirm, I have moments of social brilliance and ease and then there are those other moments, when Mr Bean looks like the twin I was seperated from at birth. And he's just an actor …

So last night I decided I would brave the pizzeria across the alleyway, without Paola's mum there with her Italiano. I started confidently, having woken from a nap imagining I could do anything, even without language.

Ordering the Napoli pizza went just fine but the red wine was where I went so wrong. There is a pizza called rosso-something and so began the unravelling of Di as a relatively intelligent adult.

I gave my order by pointing at the menu, as per Simon's book of how to point in any language. Then the lovely old man, another customer, opened the fridge for me … the wine, beer and etc are stored in it and most adult customers are deemed intelligent enough to get their own drink. OhdearGod!

I knew their music had woken me from my nap, their opening shop music, and I know this pizzaria rocks through the night with its own in-crowd. I knew I had to hurry, feeling as linguistically deficient as I do in these days alone in Genoa

I chose a table where I could look out into the alleyway, a mistake because it also put me in prime position in the dining room.  I didn't realise until the place started filling and then, sigh, then they gave me a plastic knife and fork, which makes sense because of the thin pizza crust but did real Genovese use them?

Pizza etiquette...
I smsed Gert holding in that nervous, oh-my-god-I-don't-have-any-idea laughter. I opted to switch between the plastic utensils and eating with my hands because, as luck would have it, I was the first one served and I couldn't check out what anyone else was doing. There was me, the lone foreigner, quite possibly breaking 50 of the 99 how-to-eat-pizza-with-dignity rules.

The pizza … oh the Napoli pizza is so good here. Not too many anchovies, just right amount of cheese and tomato. The red wine is fine chilled, the music is good and loud, and the surroundings are purely delicious.

All this insecurity is just about me feeling very much like a child of the South Pacific in this ancient city.

The good news … well, when I bit into that terrifyingly hard piece of pizza topping, I was A. able to remove it from my mouth relatively discretely and B. identify the crunch.  Just like last time, the end of that plastic fork prong had snapped off when I bit it.  What's that about?  I've never bitten my forks  before.

Oh, and my leftovers fitted into the rubbish container without incident. If you knew the amount of worry I had invested in whether or not I could smoothly drop my leftovers and their cardboard base into that bag, I do believe you would applaud about now.

And the clown bows …