I always see Rome as a compass to mark where I am in my life. I think back to the early 2000s when my Roman slice of life centered around dinners at Da Francesco, when the Roscioli empire was still a twinkle in the eye of in-the-know tourists, and you could still approach the Trevi Fountain, coin in hand, wish ready. Nights were spent dancing away in Testaccio, a working class rione all about the clubs that dotted along the slaughterhouse lanes. Time has passed and Rome has become an overblown version of itself in many ways (bla bla bla), smart phones and modern technology have blurred the lines of tourism etiquette (bla bla bla), and Roscioli has gone global (but is still the best in its hometown). But as I remind myself, Rome does not have to be perceived or experienced in an exhausting way.
Nothing is more important than an ease into the day, perching at a nondescript caffè, enjoying a pastry, and watching life pass by. Walking over the Ponte Umberto I (with not too shabby a view) in the crisp morning air, we wandered into Prati – a neighborhood one would expect to be maddening considering its border with Vatican City. Instead, with its tree-lined streets and upmarket sensibilities, it is surprisingly void of the hoards.
We anchored ourselves at a friendly no-name caffè (Via Terenzio, 23, 00193), returning for iterations of pistachio cornetti followed by afternoon beers. Among the streams of office workers, locals, and straggler tourists, sitting and enjoying an unhurried cappuccino is one of life’s luxuries that I never tire of. Alternatively, for a ridiculously Roman rush of caffeine, sugar, and buzzing conversation, head to nearby Sciascia Caffè 1919 (Via Fabio Massimo, n.80/a, 00192). Enrobed in wood panelling with a grand “we have been doing this for longer than you’d imagine” attitude – prop up at the bar and tuck into a maritozzo – a fragrant brioche bun, split down the middle, and stuffed to the gills with the freshest cloud of panna (aka whipped creamed). Medieval delight? Yes. Tempting to inhale solo, but better to share? Definitely.
To see where well-heeled Romans buy their foodstuffs, Castroni (Via Cola di Rienzo, 196/198, 00192) is a fun browse. A local mini-chain of stores kicking around since 1932, Castroni is a delight to peruse pastas, sweets, and coffees (featuring brands that span Italy). Next door to the Cola di Rienzo location, pencil in a lunch of pizza al taglio or tavola calda options from another smart looking establishment, Gabrini (Via Cola di Rienzo, 200, 00192. The suppli were exceptional, and their hosting of evening tasting meals made it appealing to return next time to see what this classical establishment with a youthful edge is up to. To end the afternoon, any average scoop of gelato would have satiated. Instead, we stumbled upon Guttilla Alta Gelateria Italiana (Via dei Gracchi, 93, 00192), where a fountain of warm pistachio sauce oozed itself into the bottom of my heavily stylized cone.
Even if you find yourself spending the day seeing the major sites, making provisions for an exceptional dinner is a must. Back to Prati, do not dismiss La Fraschetta Romanesca (Via Tacito, 54/a, 00193). On street level it appears to be a tiny restaurant, but head downstairs to the cellar and you’ll be greeted by trays of homemade crostata di marmellata in a friendly, well-run establishment – that happened to be the best Roman meal of the week. Of course sharing the quadrant of pasta classics (alla gricia, amatriciana, cacio e pepe, and carbonara) is fun with a large group – plus the meatier options for secondi like trippa alla romana and coda alla vaccinara. Shout out to artichoke season, where the carciofi alla romana was beautifully bulbous and entrenched in its oils with a texture that was heartier than actual meat. We did return to beloved Testaccio for a few evenings, and despite Rome constantly changing, I appreciate that Via Marmorata and the surrounding streets host some of the best restaurants you will experience within city walls. Trattoria Perilli remains a must – with its terrazzo floors, bright gallery-white walls, and memorable involtini with fava beans. Nearby Il Grottino a Testaccio broke up the pasta reliance for a fun Friday night of crackly crust Roman pizza and delightful fritti – from salted cod/baccala to stuffed squash blossoms.
Despite tourism becoming increasingly more unpleasant and Rome bearing its brunt, I am happy that the outlying neighborhoods continue to get stronger and evolve with every visit – as I wander (and eat) my way through life.
elbows on the table 