CRF: Vatican City (Part 2)

We spent hours inside the Vatican Museums, as most visitors to the Vatican do. It's simply enormous. I mean, look at this stairwell. Photos were allowed everywhere in the museum except for the Sistine Chapel.
This was our favorite room - the Map Room. Along each side of the hall hung 16th century topographical maps of Italy and the church's land possessions. It's the world's largest pictorial geographical study and was all commissioned by one pope and created by one artist. The ceiling was one, long, vibrant fresco that gave the impression of three dimensional gilding. At the end of the hall, a folding table displayed 3D puzzles and postcards for sale.
Vatican City is indeed its own country, with both a police force and a (de facto) military. Here is one of each, side by side, at the papal audience we attended. The policemen handle security, public order, traffic control, border control and criminal investigation. The Swiss Guards' job is to protect the pope. Swiss Guards have a tradition of acting as bodyguards and palace guards in foreign European courts. The Holy See is its last remaining position and they are a tourist favorite. We wondered what these two guys thought of each other.
After our Vatican Gardens tour, we decided to take a stroll around Vatican City's walls. A true surveying of our country. We stumbled upon this train track, which used to connect Vatican City and Italy. The railway system, the smallest national rail in the world, is now defunt and the elaborately decorated station is a duty free shop. Apparently, two months after we left, the iron gate was rolled back and Pope Benefict XVI road the papal train (a 1930s steam engine) out through the tunnel and toward the Italian countryside. It was a one-time-only thing for charity.
Just another picture for the dome of Saint Peter's Basilica, out toward Saint Peter's Square, which we now can't help but recognize as a circle. Climbing the dome was one of our most favorite things to do in Vatican City.
Between the official tours and the private tours, the Vatican often resembled a pong cluttered with mama ducks and their kids in a row. In order to keep everyone following the correct person, the guide would hold up a stick with a flag or flower or, in this case, a photo of Pope John Paul II. Sometimes, the leader would use an umbrella or broken antennae. Those must have been the discounted tours.

Just some good old interior decorating a la Vatican City. Too much?
One of our best experiences in Vatican City couldn't be shared on the blog, because photos weren't allowed. We took the Excavations Tour down below the Vatican and visited the Roman necropolis on which the basilica was built. It was pretty incredible. This mummy was in the Vatican Museums, not in the catacombs. Hence, the photographic evidence.
Another room in the Museums, featuring dog sculptures. I think a sheep was thrown in for good measure.
Some restoration work was going on inside Saint Peter's Basilica, as well as out in the square. It was fascinating to watch this unique combination of art restoration and construction. Men road hydrolic lifts, wearing hard hats and wielding paint brushes.
We undoubtedly spent more time in Vatican City than most people do. Every day, we would walk out of our door and over to the square. All around us would be visitors seeing it all with fresh eyes. This wonder and awe felt most palpable during gatherings like this -
the weekly papal audience. The weather was beautiful and the excitement turned into jubilation.

CRF: Vatican City (Part 1)

"CRF" is not a crime show you've never heard of, it stands for "Cutting Room Floor." Below are some of our favorite pics that never made the blog. We figured we'd reminisce a little while we're home for a visit. (Back in Europe December 28th).
Vatican City was our first true microstate. (Sorry, Luxembourg, but you were big-ish.) Unlike everywhere else, we couldn't actually stay in the country. So, our experience in Vatican City had two distinctive sides - our "official time," which was spent within the perimeter of the microstate and our "Rome time." Our photos also fall into those two categories and since we could never really showcase our time spent outside the City walls, hundreds of shots from our Rome time wound up on the cutting room floor.
Our rental apartment was just a few blocks away from the southeast border of Vatican City. Remaining in our little corner of Rome, hugging the border of Vatican City as much as we could allowed us to really notice the little things, the details of a city that would otherwise seem epic.Barring the Vatican, all of the real tourist attractions in Rome are east of the Tiber River - which leaves the area around Saint Peter's Square mostly left alone. We got to experience a real slice of Roman life, going to "our cafe" every morning, "our gelato place" every afternoon and "our wine shop" every evening.On a particularly beautiful day, we took a walk up to Aurelio Park. Atop Gianicolo, the second tallest hill in Rome, the park gave us sweeping views over the city. People walked their dogs and bought their children balloons and popsicles. A group of older tourists walked around identifying trees.

Downtown Trastevere, our neighborhood, was a pretty hip and happening place. John Cabot University kept the after-dark streets filled with fashionable college students. The businesses catered to the young and tasteful, lovely little restaurants, gallery-like clothing boutiques and bars galore. The cobbled streets and 16th century buildings were the epitome of boho chic.

Our grocery shopping was done in Prati, a residential neighborhood just north of the Vatican. There was an international food shop, a gourmet Italian goods store that was spectacular and the wonderful Trionfale Market. It's one of the largest food markets in Italy and inspired a number of dinners that turned out so well, we decided to post about them. (Roman artichokes, linguine and clams, shrimp and asparagus risotto and asquash blossom dessert and our most ambitious, most delicious, braised octopus).

A travel article from the New York Times, published in 1987, says that the vendors at the Porta Portese Sunday flea market are "a show in themselves." It's absolutely true that the market itself is your usual street fair fare, but the sellers make it memorable. They call out to you congenially and fraternize animatedly. They're regulars, locals, most of whom have been manning their station for years.They called your attention with signs, smiles, compliments, and - in this case - an enormous red arrow. People walked through with entire bags filled with purchases. Tourists clutched their purses and rifled through tchotchkes. It was crowded and stretched so long without an outlet that we wound up, basically, hopping a fence to get home.
Our final night, we ventured over the river for dinner. Looking back over it, we could see the dome of Saint Peter's Basilica and new that if we headed straight for it, we would find our way home.

Extraterritorial Vatican City

The sovereign state of Vatican City is not completely contained within its walls. There are a few buildings scattered around Rome, and just outside, which were given extraterritorial status in the Lateran Treaty of 1927. It's basically the same as a foreign embassy- it is under the jurisdiction of its sovereign state(Vatican City) within the territory of another (Italy). Among these are three basilicas: St. John Lateran, St. Mary Major and St. Paul Outside the Walls. They, along with St. Peter's, make up the four 'major basilicas' - the highest church status possible.

As you can probably tell by the name, St. Paul Outside the Walls was a little ways away from us, so we only ventured to the other two, starting with St. Mary Major. This is the largest church in Rome dedicated to the Virgin Mary - hence the "major." Its construction began back in the 420s, which is even more amazing because it is the only one of the four basilica maior that retains its original structure. Sure, there have been many renovations and much rebuilding over time - most notably after the great earthquake of 1348 - but its core remains unaltered.

Walking in was such a different experience than Saint Peter's. For starters, there was no line. People observed the request for silence and no flash photography. It was quite big and really beautiful, but I think it struck us as especially lovely because of the serenity. It felt holier, somehow and more ancient. A single stained glass circular window shone sunlight into the long, rectangular space. In one of the side chapels, a man in a Lenten-purple robe presided over a hushed mass to a handful of worshipers.

Don't get me wrong, though. The basilica was definitely not quaint. In fact, to call it palatial would be particularly fitting, as it was actually the Palace of Popes for a short time after the papacy returned to Rome (from Avignon). A large canopy structure stood at the front altar, similar to the one at Saint Peter's and the wall behind it was covered in an enormous golden mosaic. The details were all amazing and even without having to shuffle behind a tour group or wait our turn to take a peek at certain things, we found ourselves moving around slowly, attempting to take it all in.

In another side chapel was the oldest image of Mary in Rome, which we were not allowed to photograph. Legend has it that Luke the Evangelist painted it himself out of wood from a table from the Nazareth family home. (Which I'd assume would have been built by Joseph. He was a carpenter, right?) Part of what makes a basilica 'major' is its status as a pilgrimage site for Catholics, specifically during a Jubilee year. That means, every 25 years pilgrims from all around the world flock to Rome to visit the four major basilica. After walking through the Holy Door of each (sealed shut any time other than a jubilee year) all their sins are forgiven. I can imagine that Luke's image of Mary is a particularly amazing sight for each visitor.
Then, we walked over to Saint John Lateran - the single most important church in the Roman Catholic faith, the "ecumenical mother church" or "mother church of the whole inhabited world." The only person who is allowed to conduct mass here is the pope himself, or someone specifically chosen by him. One priest who almost certainly cannot is Nicolas Sarkozy. The French president holds honorary priest status at this basilica, a tradition which started with King Henry IV and has survived longer than the monarchy itself.
I'm not sure the average Christian knows that Saint John Lateran is actually more important than Saint Peter's because, again, it was stunningly empty. Also like Saint Mary Major, those inside remained quiet and reverent. This was the first basilica to be deemed 'major,' so in that sense, it is the oldest. However, not much of the original structure or its original treasures remain. Most of the current basilica, including its facade are relatively new. Of course, I'm speaking in Rome terms here, so by 'new' I mean the 1700s.
The first version of Saint John was so splendid that it garnered the nickname "The Golden Basilica." That was just asking for trouble, and in the 5th century, it was heavily looted. I can say that it is quite golden once more. We couldn't help but notice that five different organs were present. Each one of them was gorgeous, but this was our favorite. I'm not sure why there is such a collection, but in my current state of church-fatigue, it made Saint John Lateran stand out.
It felt especially nice, on our final day in Vatican City, to feel like we had space to move around. We felt like we had both basilicas almost to ourselves. Another jubilee year occurs in 2025 and part of me is curious how transformed the spaces become when filled to the brim.

Fun fact: Saint John Lateran actually honors both John the Evangelist and John the Baptist. In case you were wondering.

Gypsy Kitchens: Braising Octopi

Before we leave Vatican City, Rome and our kitchen behind, we thought it would be nice to give our readers one last food post. So, here is how to make simple, delicious, braised octopus.
There are a lot of complicated recipes out there for cooking octopus. Many of them actually take less time than this method, but involve more work. We didn't make anything easier while here in Rome. The problem for many people will be finding octopi - all Italian fish markets have a few lying around, but they're rarer in the US. Apparently, using frozen octopus can actually work quite well because the tentacles are softened with freezing. That may or may not be true, but it's probably more convenient for a lot of people. We started with two medium-sized, purplish, fresh squigglers from a gruff man at Trionfale market.
The body can be discarded for this recipe, which saves a lot of work - frankly, we don't know how to clean out the ink sac or remove the beak. Cut the tentacles off right at the base, where they come together, making sure to get as much of the thick meat at the fattest part. Also, snip off the very ends of the tentacles if they are very thin and threadlike - one of our octopi had this problem, the other didn't. It's easy meat to work with, because it holds together well yet cuts easily. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees fahrenheit.
When you're finished, scald the tentacles for thirty seconds in boiling water. Make sure that your pot is big enough and that you have enough water - if you have a small pot, like we did, dunk the arms in batches, letting the water come back to a boil in between. Let the octopus dry in a colander.
Now, you're almost done. Put the tentacles in a heavy pot with a good cover. Don't add any liquid - the liquid in the picture above was entirely extruded from the tentacles during cooking. Quarter one yellow onion and halve four cloves of garlic, then add them to the pot. Don't salt it! There's a lot of salt in the meat already.
Cover the pot and put it in the oven. Keep the pot in there for five hours at 200 degrees. Open the windows, because your kitchen will begin to smell strongly of octopus.
After five hours (maybe a little less, if you know how to test octopus for doneness), take the pot out of the oven and let it cool to room temperature. Then, strain out the liquid - I'm sure you could reduce it to make a sauce, but we didn't - and serve.
We ate the dish with maltagliati pasta "al nero di seppia," which is essentially raggedly cut, flat pasta blackened with cuttlefish ink. Also, chicory hearts, pear and shaved brussels sprout salad. The black pasta seemed appropriate; it had a nice, hearty, nutty flavor that didn't need any sauce aside from olive oil and parsley. The chicory hearts were so prettily curly that we knew we had to put them on the same plate as the spiraling tentacles.
Here's a picture of the maltagliati before it was cooked. The pieces look just like blue corn tortilla chips, don't they?
For those who need it, here's the recipe:

Ingredients:
1 or 2 medium to large octopi
1 small yellow onion
4 cloves garlic

Preheat the oven to 200 degrees fahrenheit.
Rinse the octopus very well in cold water, then cut the tentacles off at the very base. Discard the body.
Blanch the tentacles in boiling water for 30 seconds, then let drain.
Put the tentacles in a large pot (preferably cast iron or something else heavy) with the onion (quartered) and the garlic (halved). Put the pot in the oven and bake for 5 hours.
Remove the pot from the oven and let cool to room temperature.

Saint Peter's Square

We spent more time in Saint Peter's square than in any other part of Vatican City. Why? Because it's easily accessible, it is the front lawn of the country and it is a pleasant space to sit and look at the wonders of the basilica and the papal apartments. We went to two papal audiences there (one and two), and seem to always cut across it on our way from place to place. It's a grand courtyard, but a welcoming one, and we thought it merited having its own post.

The square is really not a square at all, but an ellipse with two trapezoids attached. There is a colonnade around most of the ellipse, designed by Bernini to hide the buildings that encroached on the open space. Around the top of the structure, 140 statues of saints are positioned, framed against the sky. It's very cool - even during the heat of midday - amongst the columns. Hidden there are several banks of security metal detectors, used during audiences and other events.

A large space near to the basilica is typically reserved for rows and rows of empty chairs - they are removed and taken inside when not needed, but there are so many events here that they seem to be a constant presence.
Saint Peter's is the only part of the Vatican that - on most days - one doesn't need to pass a checkpoint to enter. People wander through unaccosted by security and groups of people hang around. The square is actually under the jurisdiction of the Italian police, rather than the Vatican guards, although it is considered to be part of the holy state. Mehmet Ali Ağca, who attempted to assassinate Pope John Paul II in 1981, found this out the hard way: when the pope tried to pardon his attacker, he was rebuffed by the Italian authorities who insisted on persecuting Ağca. Because the attack occurred in the realm of Italian responsibility (though on Vatican soil), Ağca was sentenced to life in prison, instead of going free immediately, as was the pope's wish.

There are three major landmarks in the square: the obelisk, in the center, and two giant fountains on either side. The fountains are original to the space - though they were built about fifty years apart. The first was designed by Carlos Maderno, and built in 1612. The second was built by Giancarlo Bernini as part of his grand design for the square, and was finished in 1677. Both fountains were originally powered solely by water pressure from a dedicated pipeline from the Aqua Paola aqueduct, which had enough pressure to propel the water 20 feet into the air. The modern fountains are a little more sedate, with a lot less oomph behind the water jets.
The obelisk is a much older thing, and is one of the only remaining artifacts from the original Vatican basilica. In fact, it was erected in 37 BC at the center of the chariot fields upon which the first church was built. But it was carved some 2,000 years before that, even, in Heliopolis, Egypt. The huge granite rod was brought to Rome by the Emperor Caligula, and then moved by Pope Sixtus (in 1582, almost 1,550 years after the first move and 3,500 years after it was built) to the center of the new public space from its old station nearby. Today, it sports a Christian cross and 17th century brass adornments. The white markings in the cobblestone around it act as a sundial, though the shadow's passage is difficult to follow from ground level.

The square is empty in the mornings and becomes quite full as the day goes on. Men wander around selling rosary beads and others try to coax tourists into paying for phony tours. A line snakes along one side as people wait to gain entry to the basilica. There's a Vatican post office van, security forces and many, many groups of pilgrims. For a few days, the state fire department was conducting some kind of test with the manholes, and we saw their vehicles stationed here and there. If you click on the picture, notice the "SCV" license plate - one of the rarest in the world, this is the official vehicle tag of Vatican City.

A few nights ago, we cut across the square at dusk, just as the sky began to light up behind the basilica. It is a magnificent space - not just because it frames the grand buildings so well, but also because of what it is itself. There are few public places in the world that are as open and as harshly cobbled as Saint Peter's, yet that remain as welcoming and pleasant as this place.

Gypsy Kitchens: Roman Artichokes

A lot of people asked us "what the hell are you going to do in Vatican City for two weeks?" Well, as you can probably tell, a huge part of our time here has been spent cooking. (Though, it's not like there has been a lack of sights to keep us occupied). We wanted to try our hand at as many of the dishes and utilize as many of the most common ingredients around here as possible. I would say that the most ubiquitous vegetable in Rome/Vatican City is the artichoke - which also happens to be one of the most intimidating.
We kept putting off artichoke night. It all just seemed so difficult, the trimming alone gave me the jitters. Steaming the whole thing and dunking its petals in some hollandaise was simply not an option. They're never served like that here! I wanted it to look and, hopefully, taste just like the ones I eat almost daily. Carciofi alla Romana. Artichokes you could eat whole. Artichokes you could just pick right up by the stem and bite the head (and heart) right off of.
When we visited the awesome Trionfale Market right outside the Vatican wall and saw carciofi for sale already trimmed up and ready to go (as shown above), we knew that it was time to take the plunge. All that was left for us to do was remove the chokes. We slammed the artichokes face down on the counter to loosen the petals a little and burrowed a hole down the center with our index fingers. (Be careful, some of those inner leaves are pretty sharp!) Merlin used a knife to scrape out the choke and I used a small spoon. I really wished we had our grapefruit spoons with the serrated edges - but, really, how often do those come in handy? It was quite the workout. At first, I was worried about all the tiny leaves that were falling out along with the furry choke bits. But when Merlin told me they'd been the ones that had attacked my finger, I was glad to see them go. As was my esophagus.
It would have been much simpler if we'd just split them all in half like this, but I really wanted to stay true to the Romanesque way of doing things. Many recipes suggest coating them with lemon juice or putting them in an ice bath after your initial trim to prevent discoloration. The man at the market hadn't done so, but we thought the purple discoloration was just lovely.
When all eight artichokes were cleaned up, we fit them snugly into a pot with some bay leaves, a half a bottle of white wine, three lemon halves and enough water to cover them. Then, we turned on the heat, waited until it hit a boil and then turned it down to cover and simmer for about 35 minutes.
While they cooked, I made a sauce of olive oil, lemon juice, fresh mint, garlic, salt and pepper. I probably should have gone with a little less lemon, as the halves in the cooking liquid did more infusing than I thought they would. Still, our carciofi alla romana were absolutely delicious. The hearts were perfectly softened and if you've never had the stems before, they also have that great creamy artichoke flavor. I think they were a little better the next day- making for an excellent cold, midday snack.

I would love to tell you how to trim an artichoke, but being as I didn't do it myself, I don't feel like I am the right person to explain it. To be honest, I'm still pretty intimidated by the process and have yet to work up the courage. But we're about to spend two weeks in San Marino (another microstate surrounded by Italy). So...

Castle Hunting: Castel Sant'Angelo

I'm sure most people have assumed that I wouldn't be doing a castle hunting post for Vatican City. Well, I am, and it's not even that much of a stretch. Castel Sant'Angelo is a two minute walk from our apartment, and we pass it so often that it's blended into the scenery. It used to be the papal fortress (it's now owned by the country of Italy), and was a refuge for various popes during troubled times. I took a few of these pictures early one morning, and most of the rest on an afternoon visit with my brother.
The fortification has a long and unusual history. The base of the main building is a huge cylinder of limestone, built between the years 123 and 139 by the Roman Emperor Hadrian as a tomb for himself and his family. Inside, a defensible passageway circles up through the stacked stone blocks and once accessed a high, parklike space on top. It's use as a resting place was brief, though. In 401, the huge mausoleum was incorporated into the new city walls and fortified - the tombs were desecrated after the fortress was sacked in 410 and much of the original statuary and decorations were destroyed to be used as ammunition against the Goths who had besieged the city in 537.

The gradual fortification of the structure was accelerated when the papacy purchased Hadrian's tomb in 1277. The walls were strengthened and heightened, and a second defensive system was put in place around the outer perimeter in the shape of a square. The popes were concerned, at the time, about their safety in Rome, and wanted some kind of fortress in case of invasion. This is the view from the top of the walls, with the basilica rising against the sky on the left. A long wall is visible on the right - this contains a passageway, called the "Passetto di Borgo," which connects the Vatican's main complex to Castel Sant'Angelo. It was used infrequently for actual escape, though I am told that it is featured in several works of fiction. I have never read Dan Brown, but apparently everyone else has and knows about this walkway.

The upper walls enclose a pretty little collection of courtyards and buildings - there is now a cafe and an art museum housed in the castle. It's a little warren-like, and it's easy to miss the directional signs, but the sun was pleasant and the views out over Rome are spectacular.
The popes made many renovations that were non-military in nature, and the uppermost spaces are beautifully decorated with frescoes and plaster moldings. Inside, where the art museum now is, the rooms are nearly as fantastic as those in the Vatican museums. Photography is prohibited, but I can assure you that it's striking. This is certainly unlike any castle I've ever seen. There is, for example, a church on site that was designed by Michelangelo.
The Sant'Angelo bridge was also erected by Hadrian, in part to access his new tomb. It has survived remarkably well, and is now decorated lavishly with renaissance-era statues. Here it is, stretching across the muddy, springtime Tiber.
Roman history is different - this is a city that has so many old things that millennia seem shortened and antiquity has become part of everyday life. This castle is amazing. It is no longer part of the Vatican, and it's military importance has long been minimal, so it appears now as a kind of layered story in stone. The great cylinder is like a giant, archaeological core sample of the past two thousand years: ancient rome at the bottom, the later finery of the renaissance on top, the middle ages sandwiched in between.