Renaissance and such..

In my humble opinion, if there is a country in the world that has it all, it is Italy. When I say has it all, I mean all: Culture, history, art, fashion, gastronomy, mountain, beach, city, country. Italy’s influence on the world, old and new, is almost unrivaled. Imagine a world without pizza or espresso? For those reasons enjoying any place you visit in Italy is effortless. However, one place, in particular, struck a chord with me - the birthplace of the Renaissance: Florence, or better yet, Firenze.

In 2015, while studying in Spain, I visited Firenze during a four-day weekend.

I had heard of Firenze and its charm, but the main reason I chose to visit was the incredibly cheap flight tickets on Ryan Air. In hindsight, I would pay any amount of money to return to Firenze. It was around 10pm when I arrived at the airport and there was no public transportation, so I split a cab with another traveler to get to my hotel. In an all Italian fashion, the driver was listening to, and I believe cursing at, a soccer match between Fiorentina and Lazio. As we drove through town to my hotel, my excitement was building for tomorrow.

The next morning, although I woke up energized with excitement, I had to do the Italian thing they call espresso. I headed to cafe Gilli for a double espresso and a pastry, counter side. Even if, God forbid, you don’t drink coffee, standing shoulder to shoulder with fellow Italians knocking down their espressos and eating their pastries is an experience not to be missed. Fully caffeinated, I headed to the city’s beating heart - the awe-inspiring Santa Maria Del Fiore Cathedral, also known as the Duomo. The Firenze jewel that sparked the renaissance movement and inspired artists and engineers across Europe. Construction began in 1296 and completed in 1436 at the site of a 7th century church that can still be seen in the crypt of the cathedral. I bought a ticket with access to the cathedral, the tower, and the crypt. While the art and architecture inside and outside the cathedral were impressive, the view from the top was even more breathtaking. A bird’s-eye view of all of Firenze extending for tens of miles in each direction. I spent more than two hours marveling this magnificent structure, then I got hungry.

I knew exactly what I was after - a Florentine steak, better known as Bistecca alla Fiorentina. A phonebook-thick veal steak from the nearby rolling hills of Tuscany. There are a few places that prepare it well, but none other than Tratorria Mario offers such a homey atmosphere. Since 1953, this family run establishment has been dishing out classic Tuscan dishes. If steak isn't your preference, fear not, as they offer an array of mouthwatering dishes ranging from pastas to soups to fish and more. After a 30-minute wait, I was seated at a communal table with a few other diners. It doesn’t matter how you want your steak cooked, because it will surely be served somewhere between rare and medium-rare, however the chef is feeling that day. When the waiter brought the prized cut of meat, I dug in, but then I thought it was a little undercooked for my undeveloped taste. When I tried to send it back to be cooked a bit more, the waiter chuckled and I could swear when he came back 10 minutes later it was still medium-rare. At that point, I manned up and didn’t let up until the T-bone was licked clean. From that moment on, I only eat my steak medium-rare - as every carnivore should. I sat for a while longer to enjoy my wine while contemplating a dessert, but my stomach was begging me to stop. So I got up, thanked the owner for the delicious meal, and set out to the Ponte Vecchio.

The Ponte Vecchio, or the old bridge, is indeed old. It is a medieval stone enclosed arch bridge that extends over the Arno river with numerous shops along its flanks. As I walked across its uneven stones, I couldn’t help but think of the footsteps of those who passed here before me. Dante, Da Vinci, Raphael, Michelanglo. I stopped at one of the overlooks on the bridge to admire the Arno and contemplate the significance of this moment. If only stones can speak, what stories will they tell me? Lost in thought, I was brought back to reality as a small boat passed beneath the bridge. I picked up a Firenze shot glass from one of the vendors and pressed on across the bridge. If there’s one thing I like more than old bridges with thousands of untold stories, it is a great overlook. Across the Arno on a great hill sits the Piazzale Michelangelo offering stunning views of the city. I climbed the hill to the plaza and was greeted by a replica of the statue of David. I admired him for a bit, but I

knew I was going to see the original tomorrow at the Accademia gallery. So, I turned my attention to the breathtaking view; Firenze with all of its glory lay before my eyes. It is one thing to see the Duomo up and close, and a completely different experience to see it dominate the skyline from afar. Thanks to this moment, I have made it a habit to find an overlook at every city I visit. I must have sat there admiring the view for over an hour. The sun was setting, the sky was turning red, and I was getting hungry again.

I descended the hill and headed back into the historic center. I decided to walk around until I found an eatery that piqued my interest. Channeling my inner Ezio Auditore da Firenzethe; I took a few random turns and came across a line of people and what seeme

d like a carryout restaurant. Unknowingly, I had stumbled into what is arguably the greatest sandwich shop in the world. All’antico Vianio, an iconic sandwich shop that makes their own bread and cures their own Italian meats. Besides their ambiance and quality of meats, the secret ingredient is the bread. Schiacciata, a salted bread that can be found mainly in Tuscany. Customers can get creative and fill their Schiacciatas with an endless selection of top-notch cold cuts, cheeses, and homemade creams, or they can get a great combo off the menu. I chose the Favolosa off the menu, loaded with sbriciolona salami, pecorino cream, artichoke cream, and spicy eggplant. I don’t say this lightly, but everyone needs a Favolosa in their life, even vegans. Like a leopard who drags its prey into hiding so it can enjoy it in peace, I grabbed a bottle of Peroni from a nearby store and found a quite spot along the edge of the Arno overlooking the Ponte Vecchio where I could enjoy this marvelous creation. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

Firenze has two main galleries of art: Uffizi and Accademia. Given my time constraint and the long wait for the Uffizi, I chose the Accademia gallery. The Louvre has the Monalisa, the MoMA has the Starry Night, and the Accademia has David. Known for being the first school of art in Europe, the Accademia includes several sculptures by the master Michelangelo, in addition to an extensive collection of 15th and 16th century paintings. I spent some time exploring the gallery before deciding to catch the sun and take in the city one last time before I head out tomorrow.

My last activity in Firenze is perhaps the most famous Italian pastime (after soccer of course); which is to do nothing. I headed back to All’antico Vianio, but this time across the street to their restaurant. They had no tables outside, but as the bible teaches us, ask and you shall receive. So upon request, the host brought me a small round table with a chair and sat them up right outside, effectively blocking most of the sidewalk for my personal enjoyment. I thought to myself, you’ve got to love Italy. I ordered a house meat and cheese platter and a carafe of Tuscan red wine. Five minutes later, my waiter Giuseppe comes back with a huge platter full of prochetta, sbriciolona, capocollo, pancetta, mozzarella, fontina, pecorino, gorgonzola, olives, and some pickles. Thank you, Giuseppe! In Italian they say “dolce far niente”; or the sweetness of doing nothing. Merriam Webster define

s it as the pleasant relaxation in carefree idleness. However it’s defined, this moment was it. I took a piece of prochetta and pressed it against my lips before it melted in my mouth, as if kissing a lover whom I longed for. I tasted the saltiness mixed with the fattiness, I tasted authenticity, I tasted Italy. I lighted up a cigar and got a refill on my carafe. I ate some cheese, I drank more wine, and I nonchalantly puffed on my Romeo y Julietta. Italians passed by giving me a nod of approval as if welcoming me to the “dolce far niente” club. I did this all afternoon until I lost track of time. Suddenly, I felt disconcerted. I realized that this special moment is soon ending, and I am heading back tomorrow. I started taking mental images so I can enshrine this experience deep down into my hippocampus, so whenever I miss Firenze, I can go back to memory lane and relive the sweetness of doing nothing. It was dark now, and I started to recognize some of the people who passed by earlier. As I was getting ready to leave, Giuseppe showed up with another carafe on the house. “Stay my friend, stay” he told me. I thought to myself, no need to ask twice Guiseppe. I sat my ass down, as if I believed that by staying a little longer I could deceive time and convince it to pass me by, to come back some other day, some other life.