Today is Simone and Rosa’s 49th wedding anniversary and tonight we are off to a local pizzeria. But this is no ordinary pizzeria. It is run by Neapolitans who if they are to ne believed invented the pizza.
Now Simone and Rosa are from Naples so this seems a good place to go. From the street it is the sort of place that could be easily missed. A small entrance lets into a long restrauent with garden beyond. The real focus is of course the traditional oven, which uses wood. Tina remains a little apprehensive. The web site is generally complimentary but warms of long waits.
But the owner is nice enough and we have asked him to provide a cake. A simple sponge and patisserie affair topped with fruit and cream with a message. This will be made by the owner’s brother. We come away and Tina is struck with more foreboding. “We never got an exact price for the cake; he said €20 maybe but he could charge us anything.” I acknowledge that he might, but as ever put my trust in the comforting thought that this wasn’t likely and things usually all work out alright in the end.
The owner also bakes bread and like his pizzas the bread is cooked in a wood burning oven. It is nothing like I have eaten before. It has a nutty taste with a light open texture contrasts with its hard crust.
We have prepared well for the anniversary meal. Earlier in the day we went shopping for presents for the two of them. Simone is easy to buy for. He enjoys smoking and so Tina bought him cigarettes. What to buy Rosa proves more difficult and we rail around the town looking for inspiration as much as an actual present.
Then we struck lucky. In the space of 30 minutes we found her a necklace made of blue stones and some special soap and bath oil both called Rosa. But the real find was a tiny gift shop tucked away at the edge of the market which sold everything from plastic little statues of a bride and groom to glassware and picture albums.
As ever it was the simplest and cheapest things which proved perfect. These consisted of a tiny porcelain pair of red chillies, and a porcelain sunflower. Both were just €1.50 each. In Naples red chillies are regarded as good luck charms and sunflowers are one of the symbols of Tuscany. Now Simone and Rosa come from Naples and Viareggio is in Tuscany. These were used to decorate a small bag of sugared almonds.
The restaurant was the setting for giving them their gifts and despite Tina’s misgivings it was just what we wanted. Tina had already said that Simone was less bothered about the fact that it was run by Neapolitans and more concerned about the food. Now I had been less than impressed with the pizzas I had eaten this holiday but these were different. Perhaps it was the wood burning oven or maybe just that these pizzas were being made by experts, but they were good.
What marked the place out was that the menu was simple and made no attempt to add exotic toppings which might sound interesting but do nothing for the pizza’s appearance or its taste. Not that this stopped the chef customising one pizza with chips but I suppose you give the punter what he wants.
In the cold light of day our garden was no more than the yard at the back, with its plastic roof obscured by straw matting, and from where we sat it was just possible to make out the back of the buildings above the restaurant. Not that this spoilt the night.
Nor we were alone in thinking so. In the space of the hour and half we were there the place filled up. There were a few couples but mostly it was families, coming for a Friday night out and in some cases extended families. The largest consisted of a gaggle of children of different ages, their parents and a grandparent. None were particularly dressed up, for them the special event was that they were all together on a Friday night. It was a happy animated party where the conversation ebbed and flowed around the table and no one was ignored and everyone’s opinion valued.
Then there was the American couple. They sat in the centre of the garden and he wrestled with his phrase book. They were in their late 50s, and he dominated the conversation with an elegant New York accent. I always find it fascinating how strangers interact together in restaurants. He while deeply involved in his own monologue seemed a little puzzled at us and I can understand why. To any casual observer it must seem odd how the conversation at our table bounced between Italian and English with no apparent break and in some cases switching in midsentence.
But it was the arrival of the cake which brought us together. Tina realized that she needn’t have been concerned about how it would turn out. As promised it was a sponge cake with rich patisserie icing inside and out and decorated with strawberries with the sentiment inscribed on top, and here came the connection, for as we wrestled with taking pictures of the cake and Rosa cutting it, the tall American offered to take a photograph of us. As ever that was the link.
Simone proudly told them it was his 49th wedding anniversary, and they who had clocked up 34 were genuinely impressed which turned to something else when he offered them the first slices of the cut cake. It is those simple shared gestures which cross national boundaries.
Of course a shared language also helped and revealed other common points of contact. New York remains a special place for Tina and Luca. They were there last summer and could talk about locations they all knew and by coincidence the woman was like Tina a social worker.
But there it stopped. They were heading back to Rome the following day to pick up a flight to the States, and we would heading north. Afterwards I wondered if we should have exchanged addresses but then I am always very romantic about such exchanges and latter disappointed when there is no rely to the email or it all fizzles out in a matter of months. But that is me all over, I read too deeply into things and expect too much.
I am sure they will for a while recount the night in pizzeria in Viareggio when an Italian family shared a cake on a special evening under the stars. Equally Rosa and Simone were touched. In her practical way Rosa carefully opened each package admiring the gifts and then equally carefully folding the wrapping paper. But there was no mistaking how moved she was, nor Simon who let a tear fall.
Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson
Now Simone and Rosa are from Naples so this seems a good place to go. From the street it is the sort of place that could be easily missed. A small entrance lets into a long restrauent with garden beyond. The real focus is of course the traditional oven, which uses wood. Tina remains a little apprehensive. The web site is generally complimentary but warms of long waits.
But the owner is nice enough and we have asked him to provide a cake. A simple sponge and patisserie affair topped with fruit and cream with a message. This will be made by the owner’s brother. We come away and Tina is struck with more foreboding. “We never got an exact price for the cake; he said €20 maybe but he could charge us anything.” I acknowledge that he might, but as ever put my trust in the comforting thought that this wasn’t likely and things usually all work out alright in the end.
The owner also bakes bread and like his pizzas the bread is cooked in a wood burning oven. It is nothing like I have eaten before. It has a nutty taste with a light open texture contrasts with its hard crust.
We have prepared well for the anniversary meal. Earlier in the day we went shopping for presents for the two of them. Simone is easy to buy for. He enjoys smoking and so Tina bought him cigarettes. What to buy Rosa proves more difficult and we rail around the town looking for inspiration as much as an actual present.
Then we struck lucky. In the space of 30 minutes we found her a necklace made of blue stones and some special soap and bath oil both called Rosa. But the real find was a tiny gift shop tucked away at the edge of the market which sold everything from plastic little statues of a bride and groom to glassware and picture albums.
As ever it was the simplest and cheapest things which proved perfect. These consisted of a tiny porcelain pair of red chillies, and a porcelain sunflower. Both were just €1.50 each. In Naples red chillies are regarded as good luck charms and sunflowers are one of the symbols of Tuscany. Now Simone and Rosa come from Naples and Viareggio is in Tuscany. These were used to decorate a small bag of sugared almonds.
The restaurant was the setting for giving them their gifts and despite Tina’s misgivings it was just what we wanted. Tina had already said that Simone was less bothered about the fact that it was run by Neapolitans and more concerned about the food. Now I had been less than impressed with the pizzas I had eaten this holiday but these were different. Perhaps it was the wood burning oven or maybe just that these pizzas were being made by experts, but they were good.
What marked the place out was that the menu was simple and made no attempt to add exotic toppings which might sound interesting but do nothing for the pizza’s appearance or its taste. Not that this stopped the chef customising one pizza with chips but I suppose you give the punter what he wants.
In the cold light of day our garden was no more than the yard at the back, with its plastic roof obscured by straw matting, and from where we sat it was just possible to make out the back of the buildings above the restaurant. Not that this spoilt the night.
Nor we were alone in thinking so. In the space of the hour and half we were there the place filled up. There were a few couples but mostly it was families, coming for a Friday night out and in some cases extended families. The largest consisted of a gaggle of children of different ages, their parents and a grandparent. None were particularly dressed up, for them the special event was that they were all together on a Friday night. It was a happy animated party where the conversation ebbed and flowed around the table and no one was ignored and everyone’s opinion valued.
Then there was the American couple. They sat in the centre of the garden and he wrestled with his phrase book. They were in their late 50s, and he dominated the conversation with an elegant New York accent. I always find it fascinating how strangers interact together in restaurants. He while deeply involved in his own monologue seemed a little puzzled at us and I can understand why. To any casual observer it must seem odd how the conversation at our table bounced between Italian and English with no apparent break and in some cases switching in midsentence.
But it was the arrival of the cake which brought us together. Tina realized that she needn’t have been concerned about how it would turn out. As promised it was a sponge cake with rich patisserie icing inside and out and decorated with strawberries with the sentiment inscribed on top, and here came the connection, for as we wrestled with taking pictures of the cake and Rosa cutting it, the tall American offered to take a photograph of us. As ever that was the link.
Simone proudly told them it was his 49th wedding anniversary, and they who had clocked up 34 were genuinely impressed which turned to something else when he offered them the first slices of the cut cake. It is those simple shared gestures which cross national boundaries.
Of course a shared language also helped and revealed other common points of contact. New York remains a special place for Tina and Luca. They were there last summer and could talk about locations they all knew and by coincidence the woman was like Tina a social worker.
But there it stopped. They were heading back to Rome the following day to pick up a flight to the States, and we would heading north. Afterwards I wondered if we should have exchanged addresses but then I am always very romantic about such exchanges and latter disappointed when there is no rely to the email or it all fizzles out in a matter of months. But that is me all over, I read too deeply into things and expect too much.
I am sure they will for a while recount the night in pizzeria in Viareggio when an Italian family shared a cake on a special evening under the stars. Equally Rosa and Simone were touched. In her practical way Rosa carefully opened each package admiring the gifts and then equally carefully folding the wrapping paper. But there was no mistaking how moved she was, nor Simon who let a tear fall.
Pictures; from the collection of Andrew Simpson
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