A Hole-in-the-Wall Crawl

A Hole-in-the-Wall Crawl

   

No Hiding This One -"A Hole in
the Wall" in Rome's Trastevere

There are many “hole-in-the-wall” places around the world.  Thankfully, a super abundance of them inhabit Italy. I’m referring to all those small, down-to-earth, out-of-the-way places like restaurants, cafes, and bars that serve as the veins and arteries of a society, where life is more publicly exposed and shared.  Thinking about these “public houses” or “pubs” in their contracted form, that lie somewhere on the cusp between the kitchen table and a country club, gives me pause.  They’re closed at the moment by decree due to an insidious Chinese virus.  We are told that a virus, whose Latin root lies in the term for “poison,” occupies a twilight zone between something living and nonliving.  Mentioning living and non-living in the same sentence brings to mind that American post-apocalyptic horror TV series, The Walking Dead.  While that is pure comic book fiction that I can only hope will soon go away, this menace is an honest-to-God real thing that won’t go away at the flip of a switch.  Being without metabolic function, a virus is more chemistry set than a life form.  Best we think of them as existing on the border between inert chemical and real life, or better yet, on the verge of life like a seed.

But for this global scourge, we’d be busy planning our return to Italy about now.  The 15^th of May has to this point been our preferred earliest arrival date, with margin built-in for the weather to steady-state into spring, like a marble finally coming to rest in the bottom of a bowl.  This year, unfortunately for everyone, us included, this virus has put a glitch in our habitual practices.  As of this writing, as I serve my own sentence of self-confinement, computer models, similar to those weather models we’ve seen over the years that project hurricane routes up the east coast of the USA (with wide variance in expected paths due to what their equations do with the same data), currently predict an end to virus deaths in the US around mid-June.  If close to being correct, it would be June then at the earliest.  Again, a healthy pad of a few more months for these models to be refined and businesses to stabilize could delay a return into September 2020, if at all.  Better to wait until then, rather than attempt an earlier return.  It would be just about impossible to get there any sooner anyway.  If by magic, we could manage to appear tugging our suitcases along Vico Ruggiero sooner, the necessity to self-isolate and the fact that while the Earth still rotates just about everything is tightly closed, makes it more of a problem than a worthwhile undertaking.  Might as well stay where we are until the green “GO” light illuminates and the reality of some “new norm” begins.  It seems “social distancing”, more than the advised six feet, spans oceans as well as check-out lines.  What this plague and distance can’t do is stop our ability to revel in the memory of those unpretentious, out-of-the-way places we loved to inhabit.  There have been many over the years and hopefully, soon, very soon, familiar patterns of living will return and there’ll be many more. 

Gaetano of the Lioni Memphis 

When last I wrote in a bid to pass time and share memories, we were in Villa Arianna on the coast of Campania below Naples in Castellammare di Stabia.  I didn’t go into it then but after exploring this wonderful villa, we headed east, back to Calitri.  About thirty minutes past Avellino and about the same from Calitri still farther ahead, is the city of Lioni (pronounced Leo-knee).  Spread across a flat plane by the Ofanto River, it was once a Samnite stronghold.  A stop in Lioni at a particular watering hole has gotten habitual.  We have given up trying to navigate its one-way streets and now have the Memphis pub/restaurant loaded into Margaret’s GPS memory that makes getting to Via Ronca much easier.  It has been there over 20 years so they must be doing something right, although you can always find some highbrow customer who’ll nitpick the absence of a placemat or anything less than instant service.  Our friend, Gaetano, is its current proprietor.  He’s a stocky fellow
with broad shoulders not unlike those of a wrestler.  Behind the bar that runs deep along one side of the main room, he rules like the captain of a mighty ship.  His crew, eight or so spina tap handles, stand at attention awaiting their commander’s touch.  Like the controls of an aircraft, with each stroke of these levers,

We Await Your Command, Captain

The Interior of Memphis

he toggles an excellent selection of grog in mimic of a British Man-of-War captain dispensing a daily ration of fortifying rum.  It’s called Memphis for a reason that eluded us until the first time we entered.  Like the actual Memphis that lies on the mighty Mississippi River in Tennessee, this Memphis is near the Ofanto River, once a thriving thoroughfare itself, but no more.  No, that wasn’t the connection.  A walk through its distinct interior, featuring burnished furniture and moldings of dark wood, upholstered booths, paneled ceilings, and high-top tables with matching tall pub chairs quickly put us on course to the realization that this was not exactly your typical Italian pub.  The real Memphis is famous for the instrumental strains of blues, soul, and rock 'n' roll that originated there.  Celebrity icons like Elvis Presley, B.B. King, and Johnny Cash recorded albums at the legendary Sun Studio there, and Presley’s Graceland mansion remains a popular attraction.  A life size statue of what could be a stylized torch singer like Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan or Aretha Franklin (who incidentally had been born in Memphis), put the name, the décor, and the atmosphere in context.  It was evident that here, there existed a strong attachment to that American singular creation, the Blues, and its subgenres of Soul and Rock’n’Roll.  While Calitri’s Double Jack pub mirrors a German beer hall, here the founders of Memphis 

Stylized Blues Singer

strove to

mimic an intimate space reminiscent of a Memphis hole-in-the-wall bar that dishes out an eclectic mashup of blues, jazz, and rock.  As for the food, contrary to the heavy emphasis on fish entrees in stateside Memphis, the fare here is definitely Italian.  While there is an extensive lineup of dishes, all that beer on tap goes especially well with the pizza that spews from a basement oven ablaze by evening.  A large-screen TV projection system, one inside and another outside on a covered rear patio, though not on the menu, is the final piece de resistance that keeps Gaetano hopping-busy especially on nights when the professionals of the Naples Serie-A top-flight soccer team go at it for ninety minutes.  I have to confess that not occasionally but always, when we’ve stopped by, it’s usually mid-afternoon.  We’re fortunate it’s open, but we do miss out on all the excitement and rhythmic jazzy vibes that I expect come later.  All the more reason as I said, that hopefully soon, very soon, there’ll be other chances to let it happen and to one night join in the passion of the Naples Team Victory Cheer (click to open YouTube link) following a game:  

Un giorno all’improvviso           One day, suddenly
Mi innamora de te                      I fell in love with you
Il cuore me batteva                     My heart was beating
Non chiedermi il perché             Don’t ask me why
Di tempone e passato                 Time has passed
Ma sono ancora qua                   But still I’m here
E oggi come allora                     And now as then
Defendo la citta                          I defend this city
Ale, ale; ale, ale; ale, ale           Let’s go, let's go; let’s go, let's go; let’s go, let's go;  

While not quite “the Blues”, it is a performance delivered live with plenty of Italian passionate “soul”.  But my memory embraces other fond memories.  

Recently while in Venice, we were fortunate that when I ask Martin, our Vrbo arrival contact, for his recommendation of a nearby hole-in-the-wall, he directed us to the Antica Osteria Ruga Rialto. 

Rialto Bridge - Go Left Across onto
Ruga Vecchio San Giovanni 

Come to find out, it was more than an osteria.  It was located off the beaten path in an old part of town in the opposite direction from the glitz of Venice in the San Polo sestieri (district) on the western side of the Rialto Bridge.  This is a lesser known district, actually the smallest, peppered with lots of secretive lanes and places to explore.  Like everything in Venice, it had a patina of age about it, but there was more.  It was “terra incognita” to us, one of those regions a medieval cartographer would designate on a map as yet to be explored.  We actually missed the Ruga on our first attempt to find it.  Though we couldn’t find the Ruga straightaway, we were far from lost.  It’s key for an adventurous tourist to wander.  Here was a chance to wander without any worry about getting lost, especially in Venice.  After all, how lost can you get when you’re on an island?  I’d venture to say disoriented at most.  After all, you are on vacation and meant to be at least a wee bit disoriented from the comfort of your norm.

It’s common at times for long phrases, familiar to many, to become shortened in some cases to a shell of their former self, without their meaning suffering.  Examples of this verbal shorthand are common.  For instance, from the original biblical phrase, “For the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil,” we instead use the abbreviated version, “Money is the root of all evil.”  Italians use this verbal shorthand too.  A simple but familiar example, to us especially, is when buona sera becomes simply sera as we greet passersby.  Other words serve as a code decipherable by those in the know.  The term “ombra” is a case in point and recalls an old habit followed by many Venetians.  In olden times, to cool off during hot summer days, they’d meet to drink a glass of wine under the shadow of the bell tower in St Mark’s Square. 

Welcome to Ruga Vecchio - Note the Words
"ombra" and "cicchetti" on the Sign

At the time, they’d say, “We go to drink in the shadow,” which over time was shortened to: “Let’s drink a shadow.”  Abbreviation and code combined for shadow to become synonymous with the common drink of the time, wine.  It is hard to believe now but a vineyard once grew in St Mark’s Square.  Handed down to today, Venetians refer to a pub crawl as the giro d'ombra.  Giro meaning "stroll," while ombra, code for “shadow,” is local slang for a glass of wine.  This heritage is reflected in the sign outside the Ruga for those in the know. It displays the word ombra, and with wine in hand, the opportunity to enjoy your wine with small tasty cicchetti bar snacks, their version of traditional Spanish style tapas.  It wasn’t long after settling into our accommodations and we were off to find this authentic bacaro in hopes of soothing the weariness following a long day of travel with an Aperol Spritz or two.  As the day had dissolved into darkness, we had no idea of the Venetian heritage awaiting us when we finally spotted the sign for the Ruga Rialto promoting ombra and cicchetti and entered.  

With an unassuming entry on Via San Giovanni, it had nowhere near the formality of presence the Danieli 5-Star Hotel’s “Dandolo Bar” exuded, situated around the corner from St Mark’s Square with its door on the Grand Canal.  Far, far less grandiose, a bacaro is a simple wine bar, emblematic of Venice, on the order of an osteria with a limited menu elsewhere in Italy.  They are a type of pub, tucked here and there along the back streets, where you can drink a glass of wine standing at the bar and eat those cicchetti snacks.  We are familiar with these snacks.  We call them stuzzichini in Southern Italy while Italian Americans prefer antipasti.  We never made it into the dining room on the other side of the wall from the Ruga bar.  The casualness of the bar with its bustling activity was

"Cicchetti"  - Venice Style Tapas

where we preferred to be.  We enjoyed the atmosphere at the bar best, surrounded by a scattering of wooden barrels as stand-in tables and complimented with a gaggle of conventional tables along the sidewalls.  Standing at the bar, we hobnobbed with local Venetians who came and went.  It was late by then.  The seeming Italian taboo to not take a drink without a meal had diminished.  I have a hunch that Italian mothers teach their children to never drink unless accompanied with food.  Some stomach ailment would certainly ensue. No doubt, the cicchetti helps with that.  Sometimes you can make a friend in places like these, whether in Venice or elsewhere.  Trying is all it takes.  For the shy sort who finds standing at the bar just a bit intimidating from the anonymity of a table, a simple " Ti dispiace se resto qui? (Do you mind if I stand here?) just may be enough to get you started.  If not your clothes, your accent will give you away as just another tourist, but who knows, they might not care, and a conversation begins.

Over drinks, we made a meal of these small

Maria Elena's Calamari Fare

cicchetti side-dish snacks.  There was much to choose from behind the glass barrier protecting what appeared to be a small buffet.  It’s tough to restrain yourself from the tiny bounty of toothpick-lanced mouthfuls — deep-fried mozzarella cheese, gorgonzola, calamari, marinated artichoke hearts, small toasted breads with toppings, salami, all fashion of seafood, olives, veggies, prosciutto with melon and more. 

We had such a good time that we returned two nights later and tried their menu.  To the accompaniment of bottles of label-less “shadow,” Maria Elena concentrated on their calamari while I spun my fork around their beef and bacon laden pasta Bolognese.  Overall, with Martin’s help, possibly a regular customer, if not a relative for all we knew, we’d enjoyed his casual gathering spot with great food, great drinks, and a great atmosphere that included their black cat mascot. 

Italians have coined the term Aperitivo to describe a before dinner drink.  That first stretch of time following the workday, sipping an end of day aperitivo might go on for hours, then again, there

Welcome to Monreale's "Le Baerrique" 

could easily be more than one aperitivo involved that extends ones stay even longer.  Whatever the impetus, here again the term morphed a bit over time to also encompass their expression for “Happy Hour”, a term that grew in popularity during the speakeasy days of Prohibition in the States.  There is another small hole-in-the-wall place where we’ve enjoyed many a happy hour snacking while enjoying a Spritz, peachy Bellini, or local wines with and without the color of their skins.  From Venice, it would take a car ride traversing about 900 miles with a ferry ride thrown in, to bring us to Monreale, a Sicilian bedroom community outside of Palermo.  When you get to Calabria, why not rest up at interesting Hotel Villaggio Grand Duca in Briatico before continuing.  With all the fun along the way, it just might be worth the trip.  Once arrived in Monreale, the bounty of the La Conca d’Oro

Barrique Owners, Enrico and Dilva

valley produces oranges, olives, and almonds, while in town, they serve up the best charcuterie boards and platters we’ve found at Le Barrique (click for video tour), a gem of a place along Via Arcivescovado near the Cathedral.  In 2016, when we stumbled upon Le Barrique, they had newly opened.  As we’d done in Venice at Antica Osteria Ruga Rialto, we actually walked right by their open door, then thankfully had the sense to doubled back to take a closer look.  We didn’t know it at the time but when we entered, we were entering what has become the best rated bar/restaurant in Monreale.  It served as a quiet spot for afternoon relaxation to the lulling vibes of background music after our open-air double decker bus tour of the sights of Palermo, and on another day, a visit to the nearby Cathedral.  For a seat inside, it’s best to get there early.  Seating at its few tables, that I’d guestimate could accommodate a dozen or so visitors, hasn’t kept up with its popularity.  It’s definitely a small slow food bar-eatery where the tasty variety of snacks served by Enrico and his wife, Dilva, haven’t a special name as in Venice.  They have their own exotic nature, however, with a creative woman’s touch in their presentation.  All the dishes are prepared on the spot and are fresh right down to the

Inside Le Barrique

bread.  The choices are many, beginning with cheese boards with selections of fresh sheep, cow, and goat cheeses, along with my favorite, burrata.  Many of these offerings are accompanied with what I thought a special touch, ramekins of preserves.  For some, along with wine, “starters” like these are enough to make a meal on a hot afternoon.  But there’s plenty more.  Go ahead, accompany a cheese

board with another platter of pomodoro topped bruschetta, and focaccias.  And then, there are meats beyond the familiar thin slices of prosciutto to include all kinds of roll-ups like stuffed pork swollen with a tasty filling.  Heartier appetites might also delight in overstuffed sandwiches or mixed grill items and skewers loaded with savory meat chunks along with grilled chicken.  Go this far and I’d suggest ordering another bottle of wine.  If there is still room, the sweet of heart might enjoy a go at the dessert menu - possibly biscotti to dip into Marsala or a Sicilian favorite, Moscato di Pantelleria.  Yet there is also competition with additional items, some

filled with ricotta, others frosted with that Italian cream cheese, mascarpone.  Decisions, decisions.  With so many enticements, I can understand why space, even in our stomachs, has its limits. In the evening, more traditional meals are the standard, while during the day and late at night, lighter snack dishes are the norm.  We found it memorable whatever the hour, with a warm and relaxed atmosphere and a staff eager to please.  With an emphasis on quality regional area food, Enrico and Dilva have created a must stop for those seeking that special taste of Sicily.

Its been said that Italy is more an emotion then a country.  That’s true, but it works both ways. It is the emotion we feel when we're there in the good-naturedemotion we feel when we’re there and in the good-natured mood of the people of Italy, bordering on passion about everything they emote.  We find that emotion beginning with the bona fides of a sincere hug when they realize you’ve returned, in the innocent unannounced visits tapped at your door awaiting your “Avanti,” to the genuineness of tearful farewells.  The people are the “something” that make Italy so very special.  We find their uniqueness not just in our friends but in strangers at a nearby table in Sardinia, to those around us at places like Memphis, the inviting holes-in-the-wall like Ruga Rialto in Venice, right down to a tiny wine bar like Le Barrique with an enormous reputation overlooking Palermo from the heights of Monreale. 

But for the virulent Wuhan Flu, the pubs and wine bars, although still there, are closed.  Right now, like everyone else, I’m hold up toying with masks and keeping my distance.  When it is all over, I know they will be back, reopened.  Contrary to everyday reality, maybe we won’t hug so tightly, kiss cheeks so often, or sit so close for a time but people like Gaetano, Bruno, Mario, Enrico, Dilva and many, many more just like them will undoubtedly return to open their doors.  We hope to also return to be with them when they do.  Let’s pray that as in the ending scenes of that classic sci-fi movie, War of the Worlds (the original ’53 version), this alien blight from a distant shore will soon be similarly tamed or die off.  As with VE Day and VJ Day that marked the end of a World War, we will soon enjoy our own victory in this world war and triumph over this enemy.  When that day arrives, like Neapolitans, we can together all sing in triumph: “Ale, ale; ale, ale;…” (Let’s go, let’s go; …).  Let’s go ….. to Italy!

From That Rogue Tourist,

Paolo