Sunday steak

Sunday was another beautiful day.  The morning was partly overcast, with the early sun shining through the mass of white and blue-grey clouds rolling in from the Mediterranean.  The bells of Rome’s 1,100 churches rang throughout the morning, trying to persuade the city to attend services (most Romans only go to church on major holidays, although a few, mostly older women, go to mass daily).  I cleaned the apartment a little, went through my email and caught up on the news, and prepared for Sunday dinner.  Sunday is the one time that Romans eat their main meal mid-day rather than the evening (on weekdays, Italians eat dinner at 9 or even 10 pm).  Sunday dinner is a family-and-friends affair in Rome, and is often eaten in one of the thousands of trattorie of the city.  I am always amazed at the behavior of Italian children in public.  They often accompany their parents to dinner, parties, and other outings.  I have never seen a parent reprimand or punish a child publicly in Italy; I have never seen an Italian kid doing anything that would deserve it.   I’m sure that they misbehave sometimes, but they don’t do it in public. 

Since this was my last Sunday in Rome this visit, there was only one place to go: Tony’s, famous for their bistecca fiorentina, an oak-grilled t-bone steak weighing a full two kilos; that’s nearly four and a half pounds.  While I was in Rome on sabbatical a couple of years ago I had partaken of this caveman meal several times.  I had last eaten there a few days ago, and Tony and Alex, the Egyptian headwaiter, asked me to return on Sunday.  Since I’ve been pretty good about eating on this trip (except for the gelato), I figured I could handle a little cholesterol.   Tony greeted me, Alex gave me a great seat outside in the shade, and I started off with a mixed salad of greens and vegetables with porcini mushrooms.  It’s mushroom season right now, and the shrooms are spectacular.  After the salad came the steak, looking like a hunk of mammoth-meat from The Flintstones.  The piece of meat was literally four inches thick.  I had asked for it al sangue (bloody), and I was not disappointed.  The outside was deliciously charred, but the steak bled when I cut into the red center.  Just in case this wasn’t enough food, the steak came with a side of potatoes roasted with rosemary in the meat’s drippings, as well as grilled tomatoes and radicchio.  It took an hour for me to eat the entire thing.  Although I swore I couldn’t eat another bite, they brought me a slice of torta made with ricotta, dark chocolate, espresso and orange.  I had arrived at Tony’s about 12:15; it was nearly 2:30 by the time I left.

In serious need of a stroll to walk off some of my monstrous meal, I went down to the Tiber and walked along the embankment across from the synagogue and Jewish quarter.  The day had turned sunny again, warm but not hot.  During the past few days the leaves on the sycamores had just begun to turn, but were still mostly green.  The palms and umbrella pines stay green all year.  Flowers were still blooming everywhere.  Other folks were out for their Sunday afternoon walk as well, families with children and couples dressed to the hilt to walk the dog.  I headed back into Trastevere, went up to my apartment, and skyped Gary.  We talked for a while, and I did a little bit of work.  By now it was turning to evening, so I went back out to enjoy the last light of day on the steps of the fountain in the piazza.  I took a short stroll through the maze of Trastevere, then called it a day and headed home.

More pics coming, including exclusive photos of the biggest steak you’ve probably ever seen.