Everything begins with un solo. Christ, this is what we came to Roma for. A sip of something so far beyond N. American chain-store bastardization. Ciampini Caffe, on the Piazza San Lorenzo in Lucina. Ground zero for serious alla Romagna moda. The damask table cloth is ubiquitous; from working caffes to the grandest of them.
Moody skies and the ultimately Baroque turrets of the Piazza Navona. Can an obelisk ever be far away? And then you look across and up:
There's an extraordinary attention to elegant yet common details in Italy -- you see it in crested, embossed paper napkins, venetian plastering, and lowly brass hardware. I insisted we root out a hardware shop to get some brass picture hooks after fruitlessly trying to find things like this in the states.
Best dinner, first night, yes -- special. At La Matriciana, right across from the Opera. The selection of antipasto at the buffet was tremendous.
Few restaurants come this close to mirroring my aesthetic. We lingered till it was empty, and why not? Marble wainscotting, old prints, Roman shades, gruff with a heart of gold waiters, assayed silver, engraved cards -- and above all -- done with a non-fussy nonchalance. Absolutely perfect.
On the via Torino. A true bar. Bar Cavaliere. There's a steady stream of workers lining up for espressos, a ciggie from the wall of tobacco behind the cashier, the odd priest, and the family owner's nonnna having a lunch of red wine, chicken cutlet, potatoes, spinach and bread in a silver basket.
On the via Babuino. A tremendous, common, everyday niche. Yes, it can be all three -- this is Rome. We came out of the Anglican church on Babuino -- a short respite after all this papalism! -- and I spotted this. Has ochre terra cotta ever been more appealing?
Definitive.
In Trastavere, Santa Maria di Trastevere. A chapel ceiling. Simply the reason we came to Rome. Baroque on a plate.
An aperitivo, Piazza San Lorenzo in Lucina.
Fascist Modernism of EUR. Does this also explain Futurism, Driade, Allessi and Armani? ****************************
The Roma trip was amazing. Visited all the Baroque (well, aside from a rare few Medieval, are there any other?) churches I hadn't been to before, sat in piazzas, celebrated an anniversary with black truffles and Prosecco, downed espresso at both working bars and grand piazzas, found a shield lamp shade, walked in rain around EUR, and climbed Monti cobblestone streets.
Summer on a plate: 
A bronze Carl Milles, Head of a Caryatid, was purchased years ago at Millesgarden outside Stockholm. Normally the idea of a reproduction is, well... In this case the integrity of the museum and the production quality sets it apart. The box is an inherited piece. It opens to form a portable letter writing desk -- an early lap top. The terra cotta oil lamp is Roman, late 1st c., bought a year ago from a N.Y. dealer. Hard to believe it's real.
The books are a frighteningly accurate indicator of our aesthetic. Barcelona and Modernism, from the museum show. The Art of Bloomsbury. The Englishman's Room -- I remember this book from London in the late 80s and I could not believe it was still available on amazon. A signed, hardbound copy of the Gilbert and George exhibition Worlds and Windows at the Anthony D'Offay gallery in London. Vogue Living's recent compendium. Yoshitomo Nara next to Neoclassicism. Doyle's catalogue. Zing, which still sends me a copy even though I no longer review for them.
