
Click here now and watch this hilarious video of Venetian Gondoliers singing a pro-Obama campaign song.

Click here now and watch this hilarious video of Venetian Gondoliers singing a pro-Obama campaign song.

Despite all odds, rome’s public transportation system works pretty well. Certainly it’s over-crowded and under-organized — there’s no crowd control and the schedules on which buses run is barely discernable — but, if you know the basics, it’s quite easy to get around.
What can be tricky about the system is determining the most efficient way to move from place to place. Most often, the process of getting from point A to point B is done more quickly if one is willing to ride three or four buses rather than holding out for the single direct line. This is especially true if one is trying to get from one end of the city to another, say from the Gallery of Modern Art on the north side of Villa Borghese to Viale Trastevere or vice versa.
In theory, there’s a tram that runs this route — the number 3. But, it’s route is so long and circuitous that it takes almost a lifetime to get from one end of the line to another. Residents of Rome joke that one should take a picnic on the line 3 as you’re likely to get hungry in route. We also think of the number 3 as the ultimate tour tram as it takes riders past the Circus Maximus, around the Colosseum, past St. John Lateran and Porta Maggiore, through the ugly underbelly of the city in the area around Stazione Tiburtina, before snaking its way through the Parioli neighborhood — and all at a snail’s pace. Ride the number 3 and you’ve seen it all.
If, that is, the number three is running. Which, it hasn’t for years. At least not in its tram form. For many many months now, it’s been transformed into a bus, which is a bit of a relief, because the bus moves more quickly than the tram. We haven’t known why magic number 3 tram disappeared, and have assumed it’s due to roadworks and modifications to the tram tracks.

Today, however, we’ve awakened to discover one of the reasons for the tram’s long absence. It seems that in the process of installing an layer of anti-vibration material below and around the tracks in the Testaccio neighborhood, archaeologists and road workers discovered an entire city laying just below street level.
The newspaper La Repubblica reports the discovery of a myriad of materials: walls dating to the imperial period as well a later wall that may have been built in the 5th century AD; tombs containing skeletal remains that may be of the high medieval period; warehouse pavements; buildings for grain storage that were originally connected to the nearby Roman port; deposits of amphorae; and pieces of a mosaic pavement that seem to have embellished an ancient Roman house.
The amazing thing about these discoveries is that they were made only inches below the surface of the modern day road (see top photo). Did anyone know they were there? There were clues. Alessandra Capodiferro, head of archaeology in the Aventine area, says that photographs taken in at the turn of the century, show that in the early 20th century, houses in the area incorporated the remains of ancient Roman buildings into their fabric. Later development in the area rendered all such remains invisible, however.
Furthermore, from the 1800s to the present day, the road now under excavation has been an important thoroughfare, hosting first a horse-drawn omnibus and later cars, buses, and the number 3 tram. Thus, for more than a century, the newly uncovered remains have been sealed under a layer of pavement and forgotten.
The superintendency of archaeology plans to continue excavations, digging under one tram track at a time in order that public transportation can continue to pass along the road. They’re hoping that the dig will shed light on the ancient and early Medieval city, for, as archaeologist Paola Quaranta explained to La Repubblica, “This street along the slopes of the Aventine was one of the most ancient, one of the first in Rome to run to the sea and to the salt basins at Ostia. It retained its importance in the Imperial period, when warehouses and offices connected with the Tiber port grew up in the area. And, even into the 5th and 6th centuries, this road was important because it led to the basilica of San Paolo.”


Today, on a wet and cool Photo Friday, Susan Sanders brings us photos of a favorite restaurant in Trastevere. The images warm our hearts and make our stomachs rumble!
Now that summer is over (and boy oh boy is it over — it rained a week ago and it’s been autumn ever since) and the Romans have returned to their regular routines, it’s time to make the rounds and see just how tan everyone got on their August vacation.
For Susan, the first stop on any such meet-and-greet expedition is Le Mani in Pasta, a beloved trattoria on Via Genovese in Trastevere.

Run by a crew of hardworking ragazzi, Le Mani in Pasta turns out some of the best food in the neighborhood, day after day and night after night. Ivano the cook (seen in both photos above) cheerfully slaves over blazing fires, and in doing so manages to produce a host of pastas sauced in the traditional Roman style, as well as a mean saltimbocca and some extremely fine grilled fish.
The glassed-in kitchen is visible from the dining room and a table near the chef means that all conversation will periodically come to an abrupt halt as guests become utterly engrossed in the kitchen ballet: the choreography includes some dramatic wristwork as pasta is tossed with freshly prepared sauces, extended arm knife slashes worthy of a samurai as artichokes are cleaned and trimmed, exhibitions of brute force as lobsters are wrangled into steaming pots, and an infinite variety of pirouettes and twirls executed as Ivano moves deftly away from flames that blaze up every time he adjusts the ingredients in a scalding hot saute pan.
But what to order? We’ve never met a Le Mani meal we didn’t like. The antipasto del mare is a heaping fresh seafood salad that’s almost too beautiful to eat. Of the fresh pastas, we especially love the rich fettuccine with ricotta and pancetta, the oh-so-Roman spaghetti cacio e pepe, and the less common spaghetti alla vernaccia. After that it’s hard to decide between a saltimbocca that tastes like something your Italian grandmother made and the daily fish specials that are grilled or baked to perfection. Don’t forget dessert. We dream about the pear and caramel semifreddo.
For more photos by Susan Sanders, visit her website: Rome With A View


Ask anyone here at the eCool compound where to go for a bit of low-brow comedy and a fun-filled expereience and they’ll send you to the aisles of your local Italian grocery store.
The entertainments on offer are vast. You can spar with gladiatoric elderly women for control of the produce scale (in most Italian supermarkets you have to weigh and price your own produce before heading to the cash register); you can join in a tug of war over the last ragged bunch of carrots while presenting an oration on Italy’s soaring food prices; you can engage in a non-stop game of “my big toe has been craftily placed in front of your big toe, whaddya gonna do about it?” as you struggle to hold your place in the check-out line; or, if you’re feeling weak and feeble, you can bow out of the physical competitions and simply wander the aisles, enjoying the artfully named products.
On days when the eCool crew are a bit under the weather and are not quite up to the rigors of body-checking and supermarket sparring, we find our entertainment in the processed meat section of the store, where we admire the vast array of “wurstel” or hot dogs on display. Not an original part of Italian cuisine (and certainly not featured in Marcella Hazan’s quitessential Italian cookbooks) the hot dog or “wurstel” has been enthusaistically embraced on the boot-shaped peninsula, and now appears most often on pizzas (ugh!) and in rice salads (almost as bad).
Ourselves, we don’t eat them. But we do enjoy them in other ways. We love the names they’ve been given, all of which seem to be plays on the Italo-German word “wurstel.” Two of our favorite brands appear in this post: Wusi (pronounced in a way that falls somewhere between “voozy” and “woozy”) and Wupi (pronounced between “voopy” and “whoopy”). We can stand there for hours, cracking jokes about “making Wupi” for dinner and feeling “Wusi” after eating a wurstel. Which wurst is worst?

Sources in America tell us that while the rest of the world has been focused on the impending election, in the United States itself, sellers of all things Christmas are staging a covert operation to take over the month of September. The month that used to belong to Labor Day and Back-to-School is being rededicated to holiday shopping as attested by floods of Christmas snail mail catalogs that are filling the postal boxes of our American eCool correspondents. Mamma Mia!
Now, to be totally honest, though we sympathize, we at the eCool compound can’t relate at all. For one thing, mail in Rome doesn’t flood — it trickles. Occasionally. At the whim of the postal worker. There are days when the citofano or buzzer rings and a representative of Posta Italiana alerts us to the fact that a piece of post has arrived. We can’t remember the last time that happened, but a quick survey of the room suggests that it has happened at some time in the distant past. Where does all the mail go? We take comfort in knowing that Italian postal workers may be hoarding it in their homes, keeping it safe and sound in their living rooms, as did a postal worker some years ago when a back injury prevented her from actually delivering the mail. Probably, our mail is properly sorted and being safely kept….somewhere….we count on that.
And then there’s the matter of catalogs. We would sell our souls for catalogs. While we’re perfectly aware that Americans find themselves drowning in stacks of catalogs from retail outlets nationwide (and we’re equally aware that catalogs are a colossal waste of trees — that troubles us), there’s a certain allure to the idea of drinking a cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning while flipping through an slick catalog chock-full of things we don’t really want. This is not to say that catalogs don’t exist in Italy. Once a year or so, we walk out of our building and find that there’s a stack of Ikea catalogs there for the taking. It’s a day that provokes much excitement. Usually, every single member of the eCool team lays claim to their own catalog, enthusiastically flipping through and imagining how their home environment could be improved if only they would embark on a day-long odyssey to the Swedish big box store. Of course, the thought of taking a bus to the metro, then the metro to another bus, and that bus to Ikea usually puts a damper on such domestic dreams, but those same dreams are reignited each and every time the Ikea catalog falls open.
So, unlike Americans, who may already be feeling a bit postal about Christmas, we’ve no thoughts of the holiday whatsoever. But, for those of you who are already planning menus and mentally decorating the tree, then this post’s for you! We read with enthusiasm a blog entry by PhDiva about archaeological Christmas ornaments and then did a bit of searching of our own. We’ve discovered that a company called Bronner’s, in Michigan, makes elaborate Christmas ornaments to suit every taste — including that of Rome-antics like yourselves. So, if you want a bit of the Eternal City on your Christmas tree this year (or Pisa or Venice), click on over to Bronner’s and place an order.

Pope Benedict XVI has left the Eterna and is off in France, doing all the usual Papal things — which means that he’s in the press almost constantly. Thus, we’ve got popes on our minds.
While we in the Eterna are growing used to Benedict and his Germanic ways, there’s still a lingering nostalgia for Pope John Paul II, the charismatic pope who led the Catholic church for almost 25 years. Thus, having spotted a young friend perusing a John Paul II comic book a few days ago, we decided to undertake a brief survey of cartoony Papal paraphernalia. In the process, we found some fine items!
Winning votes all across the eCool office is the Marvel Comics’ Life of Pope John Paul II. Published in 1982, it’s an oldie but goodie, available for purchase only on used book sites and on eBay. The cover reads, “The Entire Story! From His Childhood in Poland to the Assassination Attempt.” What this means, of course, is that events after 1982 aren’t covered in this comic — no spoilers here, though! We’re not telling you what happens after ‘82.
If you want to know the rest of JP II’s story, you’ll have to turn to The Life of John Paul II in Comics, written by Alessandro Mainardi, illustrated by Werner Maresta, and published in 2006. Aimed at kids in grades 6-10, the book draws from John Paul II’s writings and dialogues.
Finally, if reading about a Pope just isn’t enough and you’d rather play with a Pope instead, we highly recommend the John Paul II Paper Dolls (IN FULL COLOR! - who wants a black & white Pontiff?) by Dover Publications. We’ll admit to keeping a set of those around the eCool office and putting them into action whenever we feel the need to pontificate.

eCool…..is back! Apologies for the long absence and thanks to everyone who sent emails and let us know that we were missed. The long, hot summer (and a few other obligations) put us out of commission temporarily, but we’re back and eager to resume broadcasting about all that’s hip and happening in Rome.
We commence with a photo that simply cracks us up. Various obligations took members of the eCool team to Pompeii on a recent and sweltering weekend. While there, we spied one of the city’s many canine residents stopping his tourist patrol for a pizza snack. Who needs Ken-L-Ration when there’s a nice pizza margherita to be had?
More soon…we promise!

A special postage stamp dedicated to the annual “spaghetti all’amatriciana” festival in the town of Amatrice, northeast of Rome, was released today! We’re running to the post office to get some — hope they come in a scratch-and-sniff edition as there’s nothing lovelier than the scent of a nice pasta all’amatricana wafting through the air.
The amatriciana stamp will be part of a “Made in Italy” series of stamps issued by the Italian postal service and follows on the heels of the stamp dedicated to “Zafferano dell’Aquila” (saffron from L’Aquila), which was released on 26 July.
The 60-cent stamp shows the town of Amatrice’s main thoroughfare, Corso Umberto I, along with images of the ingredients needed to create the well-loved pasta dish which is said to originate in the town: spaghetti, guanciale (pork jowl), olive oil, white wine, tomatoes, chili peppers and pecorino cheese.
This year the amatriciana festival, called the Sagra di Amatriciana and now in its 42nd edition, will take place on 30-31 August. Spaghetti all’amatriciana will be served on both evenings from 17.30 until 21.00 and for the third consecutive year there will also be a gluten-free version of the dish.
Dying to make your own amatriciana? We’d go for this recipe from the New York Times.

Photo Friday! This week Susan Sanders brings us images of an extraordinary exhibit called Nostoi that’s being held at the Palazzo Poli, near the Trevi Fountain. The exhibit showcases archaeological artifacts returned (or recovered by Carabinieri) to Italy from museums in the United States and elsewhere after being illegally excavated, exported, and sold. (The exhibit was formerly hosted in the Palazzo Quirinale - it’s now moved.)
Among the artifacts on exhibit (and shown here in Susan’s photos) is the stunning Euphronius krater, a 2500 year old Greek red-figure vessel, which Italy regained after signing a deal with the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
The Euphronius krater — a large vase painted with scenes related to Homer’s epic poems “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” — is regarded as one of the finest examples of its kind, a fact that was immediately recognized by the (then) director of the Met, Thomas Hoving, when he fell in love with the calyx krater at first sight in 1972. He effused about the vase in his 1993 book, Making the Mummies Dance:
The Euphronios krate is everything I revere in a work of art. It is flawless in technique, is a grand work of architecture, has several levels of heroic subject matter, and keeps on revealing something new at every glance. To love it, you only have to look once. To adore it, you must read Homer and know that the drawing is perhaps the summit of fine art. Truly, the calyx krater is one of those rare pieces that is legitimately the perfect object of adoration for botht he neophyte and the art snob.
What was not so legitimate about the vase was the way in which it was excavated and the way in which Thomas Hoving went about purchasing it in the early 1970s. The vase was probably looted from an Etruscan tomb in Cerveteri, an archaeological site just to the north of Rome. It seems then to have been smuggled out of Italy before Hoving agreed to pay a million dollars for the antiquity, bending and break rules and laws in the process.
After years of negotiation with the Met, the museum agreed to return the vase to Italy. The deal that was eventually sealed with the New York museum in February 2006 called for the return of the vase by mid-January 2008. The museum also agreed to return 20 other antiquities.
In the meantime, American art dealer Robert Hecht — who sold the vase to Hoving in 1972 — has been put on trial in Rome, charged with knowingly acquiring allegedly looted ancient artifacts. He denies wrongdoing.
The vase and other returned antiquities are on show in the Palazzo Poli, at Via Poli 54, until 7 September, after which the exhibit will move to Athens, Greece.
For more photographs by Susan Sanders, visit her photo blog: Rome With A View.
