Gelato

I have two goals while in Italy, besides the obvious ones of enjoying our vacation (I am quite capable of having a miserable time in a beautiful place) and absorbing the sights and sounds and culture of Florence and Venice. The goals are to eat gelato every day and not to gain weight. Those may seem contradictory, but so far they’ve been complementary. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed each of my meals and knowing that I have a gelato in store helps me eat sparingly. And I love the tiny spoons the shops provide; they help me savor every small bite.

One of my fond memories of visiting Florence in 2001 with our six kids (then aged 10 to 20), was eating gelato frequently. It’s easy to do: in the tourist areas there are gelaterias in all directions. I’m not a connoisseur, but I enjoy the intense flavor and creamy texture.

There’s also a wonderful visual feast at many of the gelatarias. The gelato is presented in glass cases next to the sidewalk: creamy swirled mountains of brilliant red, yellow, orange, cream: strawberry, cherry, raspberry, mango, orange, lemon, coconut, hazelnut, and caramel. I eschew the blue raspberry and cotton candy ones.

By the second day I had failed in my goal: We arrived Monday and I had cherry gelato, but Tuesday I took my eye off the ball and didn’t think about it until after 11 p.m.: they had all closed. I learned my lesson! I ate gelato twice on Saturday, since we usually don’t buy things on Sunday, our Sabbath. Monday and Tuesday I was back on track.

We’ve attended concerts nearly every night. Opera soloists, and on Saturday night, a wonderfully skilled violinist play Vivaldi’s Four Seasons with a chamber orchestra. Jim and I realized with a shock that we had never heard it played live. It makes a huge difference. For years we had a cassette recording which included a poem in Italian at the end. Turns out Vivaldi's work is based on an Italian poem. Who knew?

Monday night (concerts usually start around 9 p.m.) we heard a young orchestra play a Romance by Sibelius and Mozart’s Symfonia Concertante for violin and viola. The violinist struck us as looking very Renaissance-Italian. He was a powerful leader of the piece. The concert concluded with Mozart’s Symphony 40, which I played in the Arlington Philharmonic once.

Afterwards, on our stroll back to the apartment, we stopped in Piazza della Repubblica to listen to a singing guitarist. We’ve seen him three times now. He sings very romantic Italian songs. Last Monday a young crowd had gathered on the piazza and there was dancing. Every day last week the crowds were mostly young adults; we think it must have been university spring break. This night the crowd was small and older.