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Mamma Mia

by Dee Andrews

My Mom and I were standing at a bus stop in Rome. It was our last afternoon in the eternal city, and we were hoping to squeeze in one final amazing Italian lunch before leaving for the airport. My sister was in a nearby shop.

The bus stop was entertaining as we casually stood against the wall. There was a group of school kids waiting, the Italian mothers in their three-inch heels and Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, supervising the chaos. The nuns, in their traditional black habits, were more successful with their stern looks.

Invitation from Federico

We were caught off guard by the nicely dressed gentleman walking up the sidewalk. He navigated around the kids, smiled at us, and said in Italian-accented English, “Two beautiful women out for the beautiful day! Do you have lunch plans?” Only in Rome! We were quite surprised. I think we actually giggled at each other.

“Well, actually, we are looking for a restaurant for lunch, but we only have about an hour,” which in Rome is about enough time to take your coat off and order.

“My name is Federico. Come to my restaurant. It’s around the corner. We will make you fresh pasta, pronto. Bring your mamma.”

Our Italian Lunch in Rome

Our Italian Lunch in Rome

How do I refuse a command like that! After convincing my sister, who was not so sure this was a legitimate lunch invitation, we walked to the restaurant to take a peek. There was no peeking, Federico was waiting for us, and we were ushered into the restaurant. The wine was practically poured and appetizers ordered before we sat down. My sister put the brakes on. I politely told Federico we wanted to look at the menu. My sister wanted to choose her own food; I didn’t want a $200 lunch!


It was the mozzarella and prosciutto appetizer that calmed us down, won us over. Well, perhaps Federico’s smile and hospitality too. The most perfect dish of mozzarella arrived, like a scoop of vanilla ice cream, with slivers of prosciutto draped around and olive oil drizzled on top. We all sat still and savored every flavor of our first taste. It was magnifico! Forget about arriving on time for our flight, we wanted to relish lunch.

Federico was the stereotypical Italian man. Flattering, bold, gracious, outright flirting with my mom. We learned he had been in the restaurant business for 30 years and before that in the Italian stone business.

Federico and his Tiramisu in Rome Our pasta was wonderful. The meal turned out to be the best we had in Rome. Of course we could not refuse the dessert and coffee when offered. If you know my Mom, you know she loves tiramisu. All tiramisu, even the ones she found in Spain in the local Mercadona’s refrigerated section. So when Federico brought out his homemade tiramisu, Mom was completely smitten!

After dessert, I dug out my $200 and Federico offered to show mom the Italian marble in the bathroom. Priceless. I was worried for her for about two seconds. I figured when again would she have an Italian man showering her with attention. When in Rome…

This post was originally posted by me on the blog, Sieze el Dia.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

AdventureRob November 5, 2009 at 6:37 am

Mmm, my housemate made tiramisu last night looking like that, it’s all gone now.

Dee November 5, 2009 at 9:08 am

Wish I had a housemate who could whip up a tiramisu! Sounds like it was enjoyed. Thanks for sharing! ~Dee

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