Range Rover

For the first two days, I called myself "la fermera," the nurse. I'm watching and helping as much as I can -- I hand over knives, bowls, buckets of spinach, fistfuls of fresh rosemary and basil. I'm fast with a spatula. Need tongs? Here you go. Yet, poco a poco (little by little) I'm insinuating myself into the kitchen situation.

Yesterday, during lunch, Valentin, (an adorable 25-year old Romanian born cook) showed me the basics and felt confident to let me have at it. Since everything at Cantina del Vecchio is "fatto a casa" -- homemade (from the ravioli to every sauce to each amazing savory custard and dessert) -- I rolled pasta for ravioli and filled it with a fresh cod concoction that includes a sprinkling of fresh red onion, pinenuts and raisins -- only we couldn't find the raisins so we tossed in a bit of fresh pineapple! For an hour I stuffed and cut and shaped these half-moon stuffed pasta pillows.

Since there is not a cookbook to be found in this kitchen, I'm learning, by eye, the appetizers, salads, pastas, veal roasts, the stocks (vegetable, fish, beef, etc.) that are used to lighten and thin soups, sauces, etc. 

Here's the thing, every couple of months, the menu changes. According to owner partner Allan, 30 or 40 new dishes are suggested and prepared. The vetting process begins and the new menu honed.  So, by the time I'll start to get more familiar with the offerings, it'll be time to change. Next week, new offerings.

I nibble all day on some of Rome's best food. The kitchen and waitstaff eat veal Milanese, pasta, arugula radicchio salad and San Pellegrino. Throughout the day, tiny demitasse cups of strong espresso (half the portion of Starbucks) make their way to the kitchen. I'm not such a coffee drinker, so yesterday I had a Coca Cola Light (I miss it). The bottle was maybe 6 ounces, a  tease to a girl accustomed to Big Gulps. Madonna!