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).

Portofino (again) and Genova Museums

November 10-11, 2007 Saturday/Sunday

I decided to go back to Portofino today since I didn’t really get a chance to see it last time. So I took the train to Santa Margherita and looked for the boat. Sorry, no boats today. The bus goes to Portofino—right over there. So it did. So I did. I watched on the way over. You’re supposed to be able to walk the 3 miles from Portofino to Santa Margherita, but about halfway between the two, the sidewalk/path from S. Margherita stops and you have to walk in the road, which is just a tad narrow. In some places, especially around tight bends, the bus honked its horn to warn on coming traffic we were coming through. And I saw several walkers jumping out of the way of cars on the road.

Portofino isn’t much bigger than what I saw from the docks last time. There are the colorful houses right along the coast and the villas up in the hills. There are a few more houses further back, but not a lot. Via Roma links the main square, where the bus stops, to the water. There are several restaurants/pizzerias along via Roma. I had a great pizza at one of these with a woodburning oven. Good stuff!

After lunch I wandered about some more, but shortly took the bus back toward S. Margherita. At the point where the sidewalk/path started, I got off and walked the rest of the way. I investigated a castle-like building I’d seen on the way out. It turns out that it’s an old fortification, but has been turned into a disco. It sits on a spit of land sticking out into the Mediterranean. The views must be fabulous at night with all the lights of the towns along the coast strung out in view.

I stopped at Seghezzo Fratelli’s for some bread and dinner fixings (by the time I get back the markets in Genova may be closed).

On Sunday, I visited the “must see” museums on the “new street” or Strada Nuova (more commonly known as Via Garibaldi). The Strada Nuova was envisioned as a statement of the wealth and influence of Genova’s merchant families and the city’s power. It was the first wide street (and it’s not all that wide, although compared to the vicoli I’ve described, it’s a veritable boulevard). The frontages along the Strada Nuova were designed by Veronese (the famous painter/architect). These 3 museums were, at one time, the homes of 3 of the city’s main merchantile families. The White Museum (Galleria di Palazzo Biancho and originally home to the Grimaldi family) contains collections of Flemish and Genovese paintings. The Red Museum (Galleria di Palazzo Rosso and originally home to the Brignole-Sale family) contains Baroque frescoes and works by Reni, Guercino, Van Dyck, and Durer. The Palazzo Tursi (originally home to the Doria family) contains Paganini’s violins (both the Guarneri and the Vuillaume), and tapestries, furniture, coins, and ceramics from the Republic of Genova.

These museums are interesting depending on your interests. If you’re a coin collector, the Palazzo Tursi is a must see. At the top of the Palazzo Rosso (6^th floor), there is a viewing platform that gives a marvelous view over Genova. As far as the paintings go, you won’t find anything that’s really fine (or anything you might expect to see in the Louvre, the Met, the Chicago Art Institute, or the Prado). For the most part the art and sculpture is almost all religious. My naïve impression was: lots of Madonnas with and without child, lots of St. John the Baptists with and without head, and lots of St. Francis with and without stigmata (better go and do a google define on that one! I’m really showing my Catholic upbringing here).

Visiting Camogli, San Fruttuoso, Portofino, and Santa Margherita

November 3, 2007 Saturday

Today the agenda includes Camogli, San Fruttuoso (and its abbey), Portofino, and Santa Margherita. I got a late start due to the late night before at the symphony. Slept in and didn’t get to the train station until after noon. This was to be a mistake.

On the trip to the Cinque Terre, I met a couple from Canada who were staying with a local Genvese family (he grew up here). One of the family laid out quite an itinerary for them, among the various trips was a visit to the Portofino peninsula. I copied it down: train from Genova to Camogli, boat to San Fruttuoso, boat to Portofino, boat (or walk) to Santa Margherita. Based on this sketch, I looked up the train schedule to Camogli and from Santa Margherita. Not a problem—service every 30-60 minutes until about 11pm.

Leaving Genova at 12:30 or so, I decided it would be best to wait until I got to Camogli to have lunch. Good decision. Camogli is a beach town. Camogli is named for the wives of sailors (Camogli is a derivative of the Italian word for “wife”) who waited patiently for the return of their husbands from their long sea voyages. Life centers around the boardwalk, which is very long and quite varied. See the photo album.

For those with a prurient interest in beach scenes, if you look closely at the bottom right in one of the pictures, you will see a topless woman with her children. Finding said woman is left as an exercise for the interested reader.

It was nearly 2pm when I finally got to Camogli and the strand-side array of restaurants, caffes, gelateria, etc. But finally I did find a table (see photos). The best part of the experience was the waiter, but that’s another story (or rather, I wish it were another story :-). Anyway, after a leisurely meal, I found the ferry quai and took off to San Fruttuoso.

San Fruttuoso is an exceedingly small place. It is accessible only by boat and by foot. The guidebook says that there is a way to walk to Portofino in 75 minutes. Look at the pictures. The only way out of San Fruttuoso is to climb vertically for longer than I care to contemplate. Maybe thereafter it’s downhill, and maybe it isn’t. I was NOT going to find out.

There is an abbey in San Fruttuoso and not much else. The abbey was quite interesting and was built by the Doria family (you know the ship Andrea Doria? Well that was the name of an admiral who was head of the Doria family with a large palazzo in Genova). Most of them seem to be buried in San Fruttuoso (they built the abbey, so I guess there were a few perqs that came with). I took pictures of some of the explanatory signs along with others of the abbey, so you can follow along (with judicious use of the magnify button). There is one ferry line from Camogli to San Fruttuoso and another to Portofino. There’s about an hour between arrivals and departure, which is just about right to see the abbey and continue on (unless you want to go up into the tower, which might take a bit longer, but which I skipped—having had my fair share of stairs already).

Portofino is mentioned in all the books as the picturesque place to be and be seen. Movie stars and jet setters, colorful houses, etc. The rail line doesn’t go into Portofino—you can get there by boat or by car. It is picturesque. My usual practice when I arrive at a place is to look up the departure schedule, which was fortunate or unfortunate. It turns out that I arrived at 4:50pm and the last boat out was at 5:00pm, leaving no time to see Portofino. In retrospect, I should have ignored the boat schedule. It’s only 3 miles from Portofino to Santa Margherita and I could have taken a taxi or bus. But when you arrive and see the last boat out is in 10 minutes, panic processes only the one possibility.

So after taking only a few pictures from the harbor, I was on to Santa Margherita. I’ll go back before I leave. If I go directly to Santa Margherita and then to Portofino, I can go in an afternoon.

Santa Margherita is a substantial town and I took to it immediately. In one block on two streets I saw more high quality food stores and wine shops that have seen in all of Genova. This is my kind of town. I even found Pear’s soap in one of the markets. Okay, the market was more like Belucci’s in New York, or a Draeger’s in California, but I have not seen Pear’s soap ANYWHERE else in Italy and I HAVE LOOKED (if there’s one thing I like to have from home when I travel is good glycerine-based soap—and Pear’s is it).

I hung around and meandered the streets until it was respectable hour for dinner. Having asked some locals if there was a good trattoria around, and winnowing the suggestions, I ended up at a place called Ristorante Michele. Ristorante Michele is not listed in the Red Guide (here’s another indication that the place is for me: for a smaller city, Santa Margherita has 11 hotels and 7 restaurants listed in the Michelin guide—Genova has 13 and 19, respectively). But at least it was best food I’ve had in Liguria (the region in which the province of Genova--and Genova, it's capital, resides. On the down side, there are bunches and boatloads of real estate agents and (what looks like) a reasonable apartment in Santa Margherita costs almost as much as one in Palo Alto.

After dinner and back on the train to Genova. On the train I met a businessman from Sorrento south of Naples. He was going to Genova Piazza Principe (the same station as I was) was we were both trying to figure out what station we were at each time the train stopped (they don’t bother to announce them on the train and the signs are not always easy to find). We talk about politics (what most Italians seem to want to talk about when they discover you are American). Then we talk about Italy. He waxes poetic about the beauty of the Amalfi coast and Sorrento in particular. The Ligurian coast is certainly beautiful—Camogli, San Fruttuoso, Portofino, Santa Margherita, the Cinque Terre. Maybe I should to south to Amalfi? I don’t know yet what the last 3 weeks of my stay in Italy will bring. But I should decide soon!

Second week of Italian classes and the Genova Symphony

October 29-November 2, 2007 Monday-Friday

The second week of Italian classes have come and gone. We’ve mostly worked on vocabulary. Nothing spectacular. On Friday we worked on food vocabulary (vegetables, fruits, herbs, etc.), and we all went out for lunch to a local hole-in-the-wall trattoria, Maria’s, which is well known locally and was written up in the New York Times.

This brings me to note the relative lack of what I’d call really good restaurants in Genova. Believe me, I’ve tried to find some. The Michelin Red Guide. Local hints and suggestions. All have resulted in what I’d consider decent, passable fare, but nothing that stands out, nothing that made me want to return. At least Maria’s was only 9 euros ($13). Many of the restaurants run 30-40 euros ($45-60), which is too much for “okay” food, especially considering that the wine part is minimal (Italian wine is really inexpensive—you can get 250ml, which is about 2 glasses, for $6-$8). I can’t say I’ve been overwhelmed by the food since I’ve gotten to Italy. Perhaps it’s the regional cuisine that isn’t piquing my fancy. Ligurian food (Genova and its surrounds) is generally based on pastas or gnocchi with pesto (particularly a small twisted pasta called trofie—take a 4 inch long piece of pasta dough rolled into a thin string, fold it back on itself and twist a few times), and seafood (typically of the crustacean or octopus sort). I swear this is the first time I’ve seen octopus carpaccio (raw octopus, sliced thin) and I’d rather not think about it!

It’s easy to come up with food just as good at home using dried pasta and bottled sauces.

On Friday, I booked a ticket for the Genova Symphony. The concert was supposed to start at 8:30pm, but was delayed due to “technical difficulties” until almost 9:00pm. They played a program of Haydn and Strauss. Haydn comprised the first part, Symphony 96 in D maj and Kleine Organmesse #7 with Ricarda Merbeth singing contralto in the Benedicte. Strauss comprised the second part, Vier Lezte Lieder W296 and “Tod und Verklaerung” (op. 24). This was actually a treat. The orchestra is very good and the pieces allowed for several of the principals to play solos, particularly violin, flute, oboe, and horn.

Genova Opera

October 28, 2007 Sunday

I went to the opera to hear Verdi's I Vespri Siciliani. Quite the production. The stage set was pretty heavy handed. No subtlety there--the French and taken over Sicily and, while the governor is not a bad guy, he does rule with a heavy hand. The stage setting has an enormous clenched fist hanging down from above, and I mean enormous. It must be 30 feet tall and 20 wide, sculpted in 3D. It looks like something out of a Soviet era poster, but hanging down in an overture of oppression instead of raised in defiance. The protagonist is a duchess (coloratura soprano with a beautiful voice and not a bad figure named Sondra Radvanovsky) who is in love with a leader of the Sicilian resistance. This lead, a tenor of course, must have been no more than 5 feet tall and 5 feet around—not someone who would inspire resistance, let alone a love interest! But a huge tenor voice. It was almost comical to see them sing love duets--she was head and shoulders above him and couldn't get close enough to try to hug him. Even the young Italian couple sitting next to me (with whom I struck up a conversation) were amused.

Overall a good production, but the staging and choreography was very weak. The production lasted 4 hours.

This being Sunday, there are very few restaurants open, so it’s cook at home time.