The end of an era...

Last week I came across this article about Rome’s plan to pave over some of the cobblestone streets to make the pedestrian areas more accessible to women in heels.

Rome to Repave Cobblestones

Nowhere else in the world would urban planning be dictated by the latest fashion (or in the case of Italian women, the timeless tradition of wearing fabulous albeit unsensible footwear!) I can’t say that I am in favor of this change. The cobblestones – known as sanpietrini, or little St. Peters – are an integral part of the fabric of the Roman cityscape and add incredible charm to the urban setting. However, I do understand the reason for the decision. In fact, I have first hand knowledge and experience. My memory of a particular evening at the Spanish Steps will remain in my memory as one of the greatest nights I spent with my husband (then boyfriend).We spent our final night of a 10-day trip wandering the streets of Rome, taking in the sights and enjoying the warm summer evening.Most of that night I spent barefoot, stopping only to put my shoes back on when we went into a restaurant for dinner. I had abandoned my shoes after a harrowing descent of the Spanish Steps in which I quite possibly dislocated Doug’s shoulder as I clung to him for dear life.

Here are the offending (though stylish) mules.

While they are of amateur status by any Italian woman’s standards, they were the demise of my promenade around the Eternal City and I opted for dirty street urchin feet once I could not take another step. Pave the streets if you must Mayor Alemanno. And to the uber stylish women of Rome, I salute you and your refusal to submit to function over fashion.

The Return of Live It's blog

I'm back! After a long absence from blogging, what is the one thing that would inspire me to start writing again? Food, of course! Enjoy - I will see you soon (I promise!)

Grazie mille Mario Batali & Co. I travel quite a bit to Italy but my home is here in the States. It may seem odd to you that I would travel to NYC for the sole purpose of going to a food emporium but this isn’t just any food emporium, this is the mother ship: Eataly. At a time when I was craving the fresh seasonal offerings that you can only get in Italy, Doug and I boarded the train and headed to 23^rd and Broadway for a hedonistic day of gastronomic delights. Kid in the candy store doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. My pulse quickened as I entered - that was before the espresso. I knew I had to control myself - how many calories could one truly enjoy in a few hours? (don’t answer that!) With 11 eateries and a whole market of take home goodies imported directly from Italy, not to mention a wine shop dedicated exclusively to Italian labels, I was in a serious quandary. Where to start? I need a plan, I thought. And there I saw it, highlighted on a blackboard as one of the specials at the Verdure (vegetable) restaurant: Fried Artichokes. I dragged my carnivore of a husband to the counter, plopped myself down and nibbled on Roman style bread while I waited for the artichokes to arrive, hoping they would be even remotely like the ones I so relished in Rome. I wasn't disappointed. As I savored this dish that was simple and yet incredibly flavorful, I felt transported if only for a little while to the Eternal City. So, all my dear Italophiles, if you can’t get to Italy I encourage you to make a pilgrimage to the mecca that is Eataly and experience it yourself. Because I haven’t even mentioned the salame and cheese panino that I sampled after the artichokes... to be continued. Buon Appetito!