True Roman Delight
Romans’ paved roads are made of cobblestones, alined in semciricular lines, smooth surfaces chabby course of timeless use. Like a column of innumerable slaves, warriors and drugdes that build this marvellous immemorial town.
I follow this brave army that leads me in a tour beside splendid edifices, squares with magnificent fountains... On every sight, I admire graceful look of Romans’ Stone Pine, high and slender, its umbrella-like crown climb into sky proudly pointing to unbreakable bond of Rome with eternity.
I arrive at the meeting point with my Italian friend Grazia. Hypnotic scent that evokes pleasant memories attract me and take to a nearby bakery. Different kinds of bread were lined up on shelves: big, thin, large, sticky, round, rectangular, flat, knotted... Soon I realize its hardness! Openmouthed, I declare: “It could be easily used as a cold weapon!” Grazia pleaded the bread with words: “It’s an Italian specialty made by special recipe.” I am unconvincing and amazed.
We arrived at the square “Campo dei fiori”, to my surprise without any flowers, but dozens of noisy music restaurants and bars crowded with students, its loud multilanguage murmur and laughter. We sat in a restaurant and ordered a diner. Amazingly, on my plate as an appetizer was served neither more nor less than one chunk of unbelievable bread; dressed with olive oil and basil, dipped in sweet-sourly tomato sauce with refined and stumpy mussels’ bodies; enticing me with sea perfume.
Golden brown crusts softened, every bite taste on wooden oven; mixed flavor take over me; conquesting my senses. Absent minded, gluttonous and insatiable, I relished the dish; I startled! Grazia fixedly was spectator of my eating in sweetness, chortling she carefully offered me her untouched dish. I welcomed her proposal beamingly and gladly.
Refreshed and with recovered consciousness, definitely now I comprehend the purpose of hard bread.
