Other Parma sights: an old pharmacy and Cadfael

November 20, 2007 Tuesday

The Old Pharmacy in the Benedictine Abbey was built in the 900s and originally served the Abbey monks (think Cadfael here). Later, during Napoleon’s reign, the abbey was forced to either shut it down or open to the general public. At that time, an external door was opened onto the street. The pharmacy consisted of 5 rooms, of which 4 are open for visiting. The first room is the dispensing room, where various scales with standard counter-weights for drams and scruples are displayed. Here also is the original counter.

Off this are 3 other rooms: the poison room (not open to be viewed), the laboratory in which compounds were made and which has a water well fed by a spring that is still usable. The laboratory room contains displays of various glassware used in “cooking” and distilling medicines. The other two rooms were mainly used for storage of prepared medicines and the pharmacy library. Here you can view a variety of porcelain jars from the 1200s and 1400s, huge mortars with pestles used to grind ingredients and made of wood, iron, bronze, or marble, and quite a few ancient books on herbs and the compounding of various medicines. I found this all pretty interesting (a background in chemistry lends itself to such things, I suppose).

Later, I visited the Battistero or baptistery. It’s octagonal here, as it is in Florence. There are some interesting frescoes on the ceiling, but generally, not much to look at. The Duomo has only minimal lighting during visiting hours and today was overcast, so there wasn’t much sunlight coming in. It was hard to see much. You get the impression of the huge nave approaching the altar (where some of the only light could be found). You can pay to have lights turned on 3 specific areas of interest to art lovers (I paid, and saw some of the frescoes painted on the walls or ceiling). The Diocesan Museum contains archeological remains found while renovating the Duomo, some from Roman times.

There is a museum dedicated to the Constantine chivalric order as represented in Parma (e.g., the Knights of Malta and Knights of St. George). The museum is housed in the Chiesa di Santa Maria della Steccata. There are only guided tours and I got there for the last one of the day. Just me and the guide. The guide didn’t speak English, so I got the whole tour in Italian—okay, maybe I got 25% of what he said. Most of the guide’s explanations were about the history of the Knights in Parma and which duke did what, when, etc. The tour also included viewing the old sacristy used by the Prior of the order and the Grand Knight. The sacristy walls are completely covered by carved wood cabinets that store an immense treasure of chalices, reliquaries, vestments of silk embroidered with silver and gold thread, etc. The wood carving of these cabinets is astounding. The visit to the sacristy was worth the previous 50 minutes of rather uninteresting history.

Dinner at Il Cortile (Michelin rated, 2 forks). Nice dining room, but not a great place (it’s quite a hike from the hotel, and not worth it). Service was okay, not great. The first two half-bottles of wine I ordered they didn’t have (after going to look). The third, a nero d’avalo, at their suggestion was the fruitiest and sweetest I’ve ever had. I rarely send a wine back, but this was one. Finally they came up with a Chianti that hadn’t been on the menu. By this time, I’d already finished the antipasto of mixed hams and salami. So only the spaghetti with tomato and bacon sauce were left. To help finish off the wine, I also got a molten lava cake for dessert—the best part of the meal (and which I could well have done without).

First day in Parma

November 19, 2007 Monday

First impressions of Parma. It’s COLD! During the day, it’s not cold enough for your breath to frost, but the soft of chill that soaks to the bone. Damp. My leather jacket and wool sweater are barely sufficient. I bought a fleece hat to keep my head warm.

The music season was over in October, and it appears that there are no musical productions from the time I got here through January. A shame, as Parma is known for its music. There are a couple events that could be of interest: a solo piano concert of Schumann’s works and a review of Italian folk music (pizziche and tarantellas). The latter actually sounds interesting (and free at a jazz club?). Not much is open in the afternoons (museums, churches, shops, are all closed). The museums only seem to open in the morning (and don’t reopen after riposta).

Parma has several interesting sounding museums: one is an pharmacy that has been in the Benedictine monastery since the 900s (I’m thinking Cadfael here). Another is an old hospital that has been around since 1201. There is a museum of typography and font design (open only by appointment). Plus the usual art galleries and churches. It’s not a large city, but there’s enough to see.

Since most things were closed Monday afternoon, I decided to go to Modena to find out about Balsamic Vinegar (all true balsamic vinegar comes from Modena). Modena isn’t the sleep little town I expected. It’s fairly large (although Parma is bigger) and very nice. Like Parma, it, too, was the seat of Ducal power. Modena’s streets are wide and spacious with lots of open piazzas surrounded by shops and caffes. If it were warmer, it would be ideal. And, like Parma, much of its life centers around its culinary traditions. I’d almost rather be in Modena than Parma as my base in this area.

I stopped by the tourist office and asked if they knew of any tours of balsamic vinegar manufacturers. The staff person said she’d call to see if any were available, but that most of them were outside the city (you could take a bus). She finally found one that was within a 20 minute walk. She gave me the address and said that it was in a “casa” (which is “house”) and to press the bell for Barbieri Guiliani. Well, I found that a peculiar thing, since I expected to see a factory for making large volumes of balsamic vinegar. So starts the story:

L’Acetaia Marisa Barbieri Giuliani

After following the map to the designated address, I indeed find a “house”. Actually a 2 or 3 flat building in a very nice neighborhood with lots of fancy homes and buildings. It certainly wasn’t a factory. I pressed the button for “Barbieri Guiliani” and there was no answer. But shortly someone drove up and the gates opened. I asked if they knew the “Acetaia Barbieri Guiliani” and they took me up to the front door.

Mrs. Barbieri Guiliani came to the door and said, yes, she was expecting me. Please follow me up to the attic. Attic?!?!? She asks what I know about balsamic vinegar, and I tell her I buy it in the market and use it to cook lots of dishes, make salad dressing, etc. Apparently there is balsamic vinegar from Modena, and then there is balsamic vinegar from Modena TRADIZIONALE. The last word is VERY important. All balsamic vinegar from Modena Tradizionale are handmade in the attics of people’s homes and are therefore usually very small productions. They have created a consortium of producers that has obtained a Denominazione Origin P????, or D.O.P. Each producer, once a year, brings their vinegar to the convention of assembled registered tasters/judges. Some 1000 producers come each year. The master tasters rate each production pass/fail and give an analysis based on the D.O.P. criteria. Those that pass must bottle their entire production there and then in front of the judges and seal the bottles with the D.O.P. stamp. The bottles (shape and size) are specified by the D.O.P. (see picture). There are 2 grades in the D.O.P., >12 years old, and >25 years old.

The Acetaia Marisa Barbieri Guiliani has been around a while. Mrs. Barbieri Guiliani is the daughter of Marisa Barbieri and conducted the tours of her attic. The first item that was evident were barrels. Lots of barrels of various sizes. Mrs. Barbieri said the barrels are handed down from generation to generation. Some she still used were from the 1700s. The only large producers of tradizionale method balsamic started shortly after the D.O.P. was created in 1995, so their >12 year old vinegar is just coming on the market. These producers built large buildings out in the countryside with large attics and started with slightly old, but mostly new, barrels. The age of the barrels and their conditioning over years of use distinguishes the older producers’ balsamic from the newcomers’.

The true tradizionale balsamic is produced only using juice (must) from local grapes. The weather in Modena is key to the development of the vinegar (many have taken barrels from Modena and tried to make vinegar elsewhere and failed). Modena is extremely hot in the summer (over 115 degrees Fahrenheit) and humid. And this is the outside temperature, it is even hotter in the attics! During these hot summer months, the vinegar “cooks” and evaporates from the barrels. The winters are cold and foggy.

The barrels come in a series of graduated sizes. The grape juice (must) is cooked down to a fraction of its original volume and introduced into the barrels only once each year. Before the new reduced must is introduced, a liter or two (depends on size of the barrel) is taken from the barrel with the oldest vinegar. This is the production for the year from that series of barrels. Then the barrel with the oldest vinegar is filled from the barrel with the 2^nd oldest vinegar. And that is filled from the 3^rd oldest, etc., one barrel for each year of aging (e.g., 12 or 25). Then the new cooked must is used to fill the barrel with the youngest vinegar.

You can see from this that the oldest barrel is also the smallest since each year more water evaporates from the vinegar, so the volume that comes out is much less than the volume that starts. Also, some leaks from the barrels. In this way, every balsamic is a blend of vinegars from multiple years—not all of the oldest vinegar is removed from the last barrel, only part of it (not even half!). So the average age of the vinegar in the production is much more (probably at least 2 times) the 12 or 25 years on the label (which is only the minimum time allowed).

Acetaia Marisa Barbieri Guiliani has won many awards at the D.O.P. convention over the years and the “donna”, Marisa herself, is a master taster and on the panel of judges. So instead of visiting a factory, I visited an attic. And I was pleasantly surprised!

I had dinner at the Gallo d’Oro—the golden cock (no, don’t go there—this is the poultry kind). It’s almost next door to my hotel. And the recommendation came from the cab driver, who, as we all know, are gourmands par excellence! The Gallo d’Oro is also listed in Michelin with 1 fork, so it was a pretty good recommendation.

Anyway, the choices were the Gallo d’Oro, or an osteria one street over (2 forks in Michelin). The osteria specialized in various ways to fix horse. Yes, here in Parma, horse (cavallo) is a delicacy. One of these days, I might get over my provincial objections, but not tonight.

The Gallo d’Oro does serve “Pesto di Cavallo” (or minced horse meat), but at least there were lots of other things. Instead of horse, I had an appetizer of Parma ham with Parmesan cheese (THE standard antipasto here). It came with “torta fritta”. Literally, this means “fried cake”, but it was more like a fritter that puffed up when deep fried so it was hollow inside. Served still hot from the kitchen, you take some of the torta fritta and wrap up some ham and cheese in it and munch—delicious!

The primo piatto was “tortellini misti” or mixed tortellini, of 3 kinds. Tortellini is another one of those items that seems to appear on every menu in town. In Parma, tortellini aren’t what I call tortellini, but rather what look to me like ravioli—square bits of pasta with stuff sandwiched inside. In this case, the “stuff” was either Parmegiana style (ricotta and spinach), or pork shoulder (also with some cheese), and zucca (or pumpkin) with a bit of anise or fennel (not sure which, but might make a good risotto, too). All were very good. All washed down with a ½ bottle of Sangiovese di Romagna (Cenegio by fattoria Zerbina). After all that, I couldn’t possibly have had dessert. But I did try an espresso—let’s see if this ruins my sleep. [N.B., It didn’t.]

Closing thoughts on Genova and the apartment

November 16, 2007 Friday

Heading into the last few days I’m here in Genova, I thought I’d summarize some of my thoughts on living in the city and in an (the) apartment. First, on Genova:

Genova is a very introverted city. The people are focused on friends and family and stay at home much of the time (resulting in a lower incidence of what I’ll call “Café Society”). Those walking in the street are often in groups, or at least couples. Greetings on the street are frequent and warm. It takes a while to find the shops you like (since there are many of the same type, each small and specialized). Once found, however, the shopkeeper remembers you—the barista who knows you like caffe doppio, the butcher who knows you only buy in small quantities, the grocer who knows you favor clemintines, each has a “Salve!” for you on entry. But Genova doesn’t easily give up her secrets. It takes a while to find the caffe where the brioche vuota (“empty” croissants without filling) don’t have extra sugar sprinkled on them and also has good coffee. Genova holds them close, but not impossibly close. Listen, watch, wait, observe, and gradually over days and weeks, the city slowly reveals its rich and welcoming side. Hesitant and shy, Genova is not a tourist city—tourists don’t have enough time to invest to get to know it. Approach Genova with brashness and all you get is a cooperative, but cold, front. Patience. The warmth is there, but it comes only with familiarity.

Downsides to Genova: Everyone seems to have a dog, and the dogs leave foot bombs everywhere. Some pick up after their animals, but some don’t. You have to watch where you’re stepping! The Medieval historical center is cool in that it reveals the narrow vicoli and small piazzas that have survived until today. Unfortunately, these same narrow vicoli and piazzas have 3-4 story buildings on all sides that prevent the sun from getting to them, so they’re dark most of the time. Not conducive to sitting on the piazza and having a coffee or drink. The restaurants are generally pretty mediocre (probably an artifact that Genova society dines at home or at friend’s homes, not at restaurants—and as pointed out previously, Genova is not a tourist city). The people generally have a pretty dour attitude toward life—the rest of Italy calls Genova, “the stingy”. Perhaps they’re right. And lastly, Genova is a vertical city—there are stairs everywhere you turn.

Upsides to Genova: The people are friendly and are very proud of their city—praise any aspect of it and the burst with pride. Genova is a very walkable city (assuming you can navigate lots of stairs). The Oriental Market on Via XX Septembre is a great place to shop for dinner—everything you need under one roof. Via Luccoli is a very interesting and shoppable street (let’s throw in the via Campetto, too). You can reach most of the Italian Riviera from Genova on a day trip: Cinque Terre, Portofino, Santa Margherita Ligure. The harbor area is very nice—and one of the few areas where shops are open on Sunday!

Apartment Peculiarities: I’ve mentioned the mezzanine floor in the apartment, allowing it to be a two-story affair with living room and bedroom upstairs. The owner has also bought the apartment above mine and she intends to raise the floor of that one (ceiling of mine) 40 cm so there is decent headroom on the mezzanine floor of my apartment. [Don’t ask me how she can get away with doing that sort of thing. In the US, the neighbors would be howling about the building’s structural integrity.] The apartment is pretty quaint, thinking about the original floor on the lower level—it’s brick laid in a crossing diagonal pattern. Although it sags noticeably, it’s still cool to know it was put down in the 1600s. The lock on the exterior door is massive and employs not only 5 deadbolts in tandem (each 1 cm in diameter), but also sets a vertical rod into the ceiling and floor. I wonder what has happened in the past to make that level of security a necessity (even my New York apartment’s lock wasn’t that hefty, but I’ve seen the same arrangement in other parts of Italy). The door itself is steel with a decorative and deeply carved wood panel on the outside. There are closets for utility items (iron, ironing board, vacuum, etc.) and clothes in the lower level bedroom. Apparently, closets are a rare thing in these old buildings and only appear in modern renovations. Both closets are partial height affairs because they are under the stairs going up to the mezzanine level. Many of the fixtures are IKEA and the interior doors and hardware are 2nd hand. Okay, so as the Italian sentiment has it: the Genovese are cheap.

Itinerary for rest of trip

November 15, 2007 Thursday

One more day of Italian classes and only 3 more days in Genova. Time’s ticking.

The plan for my remaining 3 weeks in Italy is:

Going to	Dates	Side trips
Parma	11/18 to 11/23	Modena, Reggio, Bologna
Florence	11/23 to 11/26	Siena and San Gimignano
Sorrento	11/26 to 11/29	Pompei, Vesuvius, Amalfi coast towns
Capri	11/29 to 12/1
Sorrento	12/1 to 12/4	Pompei, Vesuvius, Amalfi coast towns
Rome	12/4 12/7
San Francisco	12/7

The hotel I'm staying at in Parma is the Hotel Button, +39 0521 208039, Borgo della Salina, 7, Parma, Italia. The hotel in Florence is the Hotel della Signora, +39 055 21 45 30, via della Terma, 1, 50123 Firenze, Italia. The hotel in Capri is Hotel Canasta, +39 081 8370561, Via Campo di Teste 6 - 80073 Capri, canasta@capri.it, www.hotel-canasta.com. The hotel in Rome is the Hotel Diocleziano, Via Gaeta 71, 00185 Rome, Italy, Tel. +39.06.48900767, info@hoteldiocleziano.it.

I haven't made reservations for Sorrento yet. I'll be at the same hotel in Sorrento the 2^nd stay (I hope to leave my big bag there while I go over to Capri so I don't have to lug it on the ferry). It's going to be hard enough fighting the bags with four location changes without adding a fifth.

Palazzo Spinola and Quasimodo

November 14, 2007 Wednesday

I visited the Palazzo Spinola today. Genova was ruled by 4-5 main families over the past few centuries. In the 17^th-18^th century, or thereabouts, they all built large homes for themselves in the parts of Genova they controlled. The Spinola family was one of these (the Doria family, as in Andrea Doria, was another). The Spinola palazzo has several rooms that have been kept more or less as they were, and also displays the family’s collection of porcelain, furniture, and some clothing.

Several people have told me: “Devi visitare Palazzo Spinola!” Perche? “Che bello!”. You must visit the Palazzo Spinola! Why? It’s beautiful!

So I go. It’s only a 1-2 minute walk from my apartment. It could hardly be closer. The standard entry hall, with a 4 euro fee, is the first thing you see. You must put your backpack in the guardarobe. The attendant helps me put it in #11. Can I take pictures? Yes, but without flash. So I pull my camera out of the backpack before locking it.

Can I go up now? Yes, someone who is a double for Quasimodo has appeared and grunts with a nod of his head toward the (ever present) stairs upward. Upward! Stretch winter wool hat pulled down over his ears, long fingernails, old sports coat over a winter sweater, non-descript trousers and even more non-descript shoes, Quasimodo leads upward! No language beyond gestures and primitive noises, Quasi (as I’ve come to think of him) indicates the 1^st floor.

The first floor shows off some of the public rooms. I’m the only person viewing the Palazzo at this time and there are no guards in the rooms; Quasi is my watchdog. The first room is faded beauty. This is a reception room with very high ceilings edged with fanciful moldings and gilt and painted with frescoes. A rug covered the floor with an elaborate table in the center. You could almost see the family head welcoming the gentry in this room. Quasi lurks about waiting for me to proceed and sneaking surreptious glances to see if I’m doing anything I shouldn’t. I snap a picture. Suddenly Quasi moves and speaks: “Niente fotografia!” No photography! I wonder who’s right the attendant downstairs, or Quasi? Oh well, I’m not going to argue with Quasi about it.

Quasi is back to lurking. His presence encourages haste—he obviously wants to resume the occupation of his chair in the entry hall. I ignore this and leisurely view the various rooms on the first level. He lurks and often emits guttural noises—hurry along, he seems to say. I want to sit. Hasten!

The second floor contains more public rooms: a ball room, dining rooms, etc., and the kitchen, which seems to have survived intact with great marble basins with sloping cutting areas for butchering and cleaning food.

Above the second floor, there has been renovation. The rooms are modern and structured to display books, art and porcelain and historic clothing. On the fifth floor (or so, I lost count), there is a spiral staircase leading up, which I take, even though Quasi doesn’t suggest it. As I start to climb, Quasi lurches over to a desk to get something. At the top of the stairs, automatic doors slide aside, revealing a locked iron gate. Ah, Quasi unlocks the door and opens the gate, glaring at me for inconveniencing him. The gate opens on a medium sized rooftop garden with a marble fountain on the other end, now off. It’s cold, but I stay to inspect the fountain and some of the trees growing there. Mostly to aggravate Quasi. Why not? I paid the entry fee, I want to see it all.

Finally I go back in and Quasi locks the gate. Meanwhile I’ve gone down the spiral stairs and have started down the interior stairs. Quasi grunts and I look up to see him at the top of the stairs, pointing a different way. Have I missed something? No, we go down the elevator (why down and not up?).

Finally Quasi is at home in his familiar chair. I retrieve my backpack and step into the lowering night to leave Palazzo Spinola to Quasi and his stationary habits. Che brutto!

Genova's only Michelin 1 star restaurant

November 13, 2007 Tuesday

Tonight, I decided to splurge. Dinner is at the Ristorante La della Pergola, the only restaurant in Genova with any Michelin stars (and it's a one star place).

I wander in (meaning I take a taxi) and after getting there find out that it's right around the corner from where I dropped off my Hertz rent-a-car 3 weeks ago, when I arrived from Alba and Piemonte. The neighborhood has 3 of the top-rated restaurants in Genova, so I figured the neighborhood must be upscale. It isn't as sumptuous as I'd thought it might be. But there's the restaurant. I look around for the menu, but none is posted. So I try to go in. Hmmm. The door is locked and you have to ring to get in (I didn't think the neighborhood looked THAT dangerous--in fact, not dangerous at all considering I live in the centro storico! Hey there aren't any prostitutes hanging around!).

So I go in and ask to see the menu. The prix fixe menu consists of 6 entrees (starters) and a dessert. Most of these are various forms a raw fish and/or crustaceans. I detest raw fish (I made an exception once for cerviche in Peru, and while it was quite good, I'll not make that exception for a while!). So I ordered a la carte. They did send in an amuse bouche of toast with some seafood pate and a ball of fried something in a sort-of tomato sauce. Both were decent, but not great (the toast was a bit stale, truth be known).

Okay. True confessions time. When I go to a Michelin One-Star restaurant, I'm measuring against what I get in Paris at a Michelin One-Star restaurant. I’m convinced that those rated outside France, get almost a full star-mark off the full measure (that is, a 3 star rating in Italy would only be a 2 star rating in France). Still, if they're going to serve crustacean pate on toast, the toast should be fresh toast--crispy and to the point, not several hours old and nearly soggy from absorbed humidity. In a Parisian One-Star the toast would still be warm when served.

And the poor waiter. When I first went in, he said the restaurant was "Completo" (full). The Maitre-d'Hotel came by as I was leaving and said, "No, C'e' un tavolo per uno. Prego." I was in (maybe it helped that I'd dressed up in my best suit and silk tie). Unfortunately, the waiter was expected to serve 5 tables. One table had 1 person, me. One had 6 people. Another had 5 people. And another had at least 20 people. The guy had his hands full (and overfull). Service was definitely not Michelin One-Star service (even discounting the out-of-France factor). No wonder he said the restaurant was full—his plate certainly was!

I ordered a gamberi con fagioli primo. Good, but not great. The main course was pesce a la St. Pietro con caperi. Also good, not great. I had a 1/2 bottle of a local white wine (not expensive) that was pretty good with those courses. These courses were not very big (or satisfying), so I ordered a steak for a 3rd course. I'd finished the 1/2 bottle of white by then, and I'd noticed a 1999 1/2 bottle of Gaja Barbaresco for an extremely good price. So I ordered that with the steak (actually at this point, I was more interested in the Gaja Barbaresco than I was the steak!). Alas! The waiter returned saying that they were out of the Gaja Barbaresco mezzo. I could have cried (a Gaja Barbaresco is heartbreakingly good. A full bottle of 1999 Barbaresco costs over 250 euro at the wine shops and the half bottle was listed at 50 euro--I was hoping for wine nirvana and was dashed). Needless to say, I whined, saying how disappointed I was that I couldn't have a 1999 Gaja Barbaresco with my steak. Whining is good, especially in a Michelin starred restaurant that has disappointed and that wants to keep it's star. The waiter offered another Gaja (a 2006 blend of nebbiolo and barbaresco) by the glass. While not nearly as scrumptious as the 1999, any Gaja is heads-and-shoulders above the rest. He opened the bottle and left it at the table. I didn't ask the price of the glasses (and had 2-1/2 glasses of the blend). They only charged me 16 euro for the 2-1/2 glasses--a great bargain (but I yearn for the 1/2 bottle of Barbaresco)!

Still the food part of the bill was, well, overpriced. The total was 96 euro, all said and done. A very nice dinner (counting the Gaja for the "very" part). Plus 11 euro each way in the taxi. Oh well, one fling in Genova. Can't wait for Parma!

The Oriental Market

November 12, 2007 Monday

A classmate took us to the Oriental Market here in Genova. Finally! A real market, not a little shop that may or may not have what you’re looking for (and even then it may or may not be fresh). It’s in a large building with lots of vendors displaying their wares. There must be 10 butchers, 15 vegetable sellers, a couple spice vendors, nuts, bakeries, pastry shops… Eveything you need for dinner all in one place and with choices! And fresh! (See the pictures).