An OOO (Our Of Office) reply for Rome would be something like: ‘I’m sorry, but we have completely shut down for the month of August. See ya on September 1st. And I really can’t care less where you shop, eat out or get information in the meantime. Bye!’

It’s not true that Rome shuts down for Ferragosto, because it already has. It’s EMPTY.

I’ll always associate Ferragosto with the hilarious Italian food movie, Pranzo di Ferragosto. Main character Gianni, a middle-aged bachelor, lives with his demanding elderly mother in Rome. On a blistering hot day, he finds himself stuck in the city with her and four other golden girls. He’s supposed to prepare them a traditional pranzo, a festive lunch, for which he manages to get some fish right out of the Tiber river. The geriatric quintet drives him nuts, and, in utter despair, he downs one glass of white wine after another. But in the end, they do find solace in each other.

Ferragosto is the holiday to commemorate the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, but it has pagan roots as well. Traditionally it was a day to celebrate summer and the end of hard work in the fields. I didn’t make a sumptuous meal this Ferragosto, but something Simple & Summery. With lots of basil and lemon, flavors that epitomize the season.

Try to use the freshest ricotta you can find. I used ricotta di pecora, sheep’s whey ricotta, which has a stronger flavor than cow’s. When you grate the lemon, use only the yellow part of the rind, the white pith can be quite bitter.

• 1.5 cups ricotta (about 300 gr)
• zest of 1 lemon, grated
• 1 big handful of basil leaves, finely chopped
• 1 handful of parmesan cheese (1/2 cup), grated
• 1.5 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a large mixing bowl, combine the ricotta, lemon zest, basil and parmesan cheese. Don’t add all the lemon juice at once, but taste as you go. The dip shouldn’t be too tart. Add salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste. Spread the dip on crostini and serve.

The palestra is a wondrous phenomenon. For one, working out is a rare pastime in Italy, so if you tell someone you regularly work up a sweat in one of these Italian gyms you can expect some raised eyebrows. And I agree, because exercising in these dingy, noisy locales is not exactly my idea of fun either. Frank Bruni’s calls them “perfunctory setups” with “meager scatterings of equipment” in his hilarious memoir  Born Round. Read the rest of this entry »

She is angry and she has every right to be. On her lap a bowl with a lousy few rice kernels, the little girl with matchstick arms and legs is crying her huge eyes out. Her gripping portrait is on all the trams and some buses in Rome, and next to it in black bold letters it says: “I’m mad as hell and I can’t take this anymore.” Read the rest of this entry »

It’s bloody bloody hot. Mi sto squagliando! I recently learnt how to say ‘I’m melting’, but also learnt that again, like so many other Roman expressions, it has other (more explicit?) meanings. Of course. But I guess in the situation of a nasty, overheated me it’s pretty clear that I mean to say that I cannot stand it! I’m happy as a clam here in Rome, but the heat is just a bit much, thank you.

With temperatures going over 30 degrees C (90F), Roman apartments basically become stoves. I sit very still, working with my head right next to the fan. The slightest physical exertion instantly produces a light film of sweat, sticking my clothes to my skin. Yuk.

Needless to say that heavy cooking is out of the question. After a recent market expedition I found a beautiful bunch of beets and decided it was time for some borscht. Doesn’t the name itself send chills down your spine? Borscht is originally a Ukrainian cold soup, but popular in most Eastern European countries. The idea of eating something from these regions I find strangely cooling, too.

For my take on borscht, I roasted the beets in the oven (during which you have to make sure to get the hell out of the kitchen!). Roasting brings out a sweet, rich flavor in them, where boiling leaves them tasting too earthy, I think. You spice the borscht up with a pinch of peperoncino macinato (ground chilli powder) and some fresh ginger. For sweetness, add some orange juice and a bit of maple syrup. Yes, nicely refreshing, now, where’s the ice-cold vodka?

About 3 bowls

• One bunch of small beets (about a kilo)
• Extra vergin olive oil
• 1 medium-sized onion, chopped
• 2 small garlic cloves, minced
• 1 cube (1cm2) ginger, minced
• zest of 1 orange
• pinch of chilli powder
• 1 cup vegetable broth
• Juice of 3 oranges (or about 1 cup)
• 1 tbsp maple syrup
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 3 tbsp crème fraîche

Preheat the oven to 200 0C (375 F). Cut of the greens off the beats, scrub them clean and place them on a large sheet of aluminum foil. Drizzle with olive oil and fold the foil over, creating a closed pouch. Roast until tender. Depending on the number and size, this should take 30 to 45 minutes. Remove them from the oven and let them cool enough for you to peel them with your fingers. Cut them into large cubes. In a large skillet, heat 2 tbsp of olive oil over medium heat and sauté the onion for about 3 minutes, add the garlic, ginger, orange zest en a pinch of chilli powder and sauté for another minute. Add beet cubes and broth, bring the liquid to a boil and let it simmer for 10-15 minutes, or until the beets are extremely soft. Use a hand mixer or transfer the vegetables to a food processor, add orange juice and purée to a smooth, velvety mass. Add maple syrup and season with salt and black pepper or some more chilli powder, until you find it sweet, salty or spicy enough! Serve at room temperature or chilled, add one tablespoon of crème fraîche to each bowl right before serving.

I can’t help but feeling very happy for ‘our boys’ today. And I don’t even like soccer! I guess this collective happiness is contagious. Yesterday I watched the game with my roommates on a big screen at Villa Borghese, one of Rome’s stunning city parks. Surrounded by these typical Roman, towering pines, under a pitch-black sky, it was quite a surreal experience. With lots of hog-wild Dutchies in exuberant orange attire, of course, but there was a surprisingly large Italian crowd rooting for the Dutch team as well.

Today, I spotted dozens of orange T-shirts on the street. I guess the Italians do like the Dutch! It inspired me to create an orange salad for lunch. I believe this dish originates from Sicily, and it’s actually eaten during the Winter there, when oranges are in season. For the occasion I make an exception and bought exported navels from South Africa, actually quite appropriate given the context. You mix thin slices with fennel (finocchio in Italian and I won’t even go into its connotations), olives and marinated anchovies. It is light, sweet, salty and cool, the ultimate refreshment on a sultry day!

• 2 juicy navel oranges
• 1 large fennel bulb
• 10-12 marinated anchovies, cut in half
• 15 black olives
• 2 tbsp Extra vergin olive oil
• Fresh black pepper

Peel the oranges and remove all the pith. Slice them as thinly as possible, catching the juice on a plate. Trim the fennel (keep the green fuzz for garnish) and slice it evenly. On a large serving dish, arrange the orange slices and the fennel, then distribute the olives and the anchovies. Drizzle with olive oil and remaining orange juice. Add fresh black pepper to taste. Garnish with a few fennel leaves. If the oranges are too sweet, give your salad a good squeeze of lemon.