BY THE DASHBOARD LIGHT
We were going back to Naples. Again. Finally.
Our first trip to this crazy, coastal, Campagna city was for our 20th anniversary, eight years ago. We took the high-speed train … which proved ironic, since there was a 1–½ hour delay halfway between Rome and Naples.
We stepped out of the train station, and found a taxi. What were we thinking? As soon as the driver pulled away from the curb, it was my life … not the bustling streets … that flashed before my eyes. And then I started to laugh. Outloud. I inherited this trait from my mom, who started laughing when we were caught in a rainstorm on a cable car gliding over a Swiss valley (when we got to the other side, we sat in the chalet and ate cheese fondue.) Anyway, I laughed because it was better than crying. Or screaming in fear.
We stayed maybe sorta near Spaccanapoli at a B&B in a large, old building with quirky access to the staircase and packaged pastry for breakfast.
I remember the crowds as we walked among the crèche/presepe/nativity displays that lined the narrow cobblestone street. One highlight was an elderly busker, sitting alongside a church, who used squeeze toys … duckies, dogs, chickens … to make “music.” We ate delicious fishes at the casual OSTERIA MATTOZZI and at the elegant MATTOZZI EUROPEO.
We had planned a return trip in September 2019, but David had a medical scare, and doctors encouraged us to postpone that trip. (This story is chronicled in … WHILE MAKING OTHER PLANS.) Thankfully, David was better quickly, so we rescheduled for our anniversary in December.
We were driving that time, and somewhere north of Orvieto, the catalytic converter light had appeared on the Jetta’s dashboard. We made a diagnostic pit stop … at the only mechanic open on a Saturday … near Orvieto, and were forced to detour. He said we might be able to continue our trip, but ……… That lingering unknown was enough for a change in plans. Our detour was to Rome, in a funky old rental car, so don’t feel too sorry for us. (That tale is recalled in the 2-part story, PLAN B and BEST LAID PLANS.)
Now David wrote, yet again, to HOTEL IL CONVENTO, and made a reservation for 3 nights. With fingers crossed, we hoped the third time was the charm.
To begin and end our trip, I wrote to the manager at HOTEL MONTE CENCI in Rome for our first night … to the owner of ATMOSPERA D’ARTE in Orvieto for the last … and, of course, to our cat sitter for all nights.
We headed out on cloudy Saturday morning, drizzling and raining on our way south.
Then …
North of Orvieto …
The dashboard light came on …
“Low tire pressure.” So far, the Golf (not even the same vehicle!) was driving smoothly, no leaning/listing/swerving to one side.
The autostrada doesn’t have many exits and limited rest areas. The places with gas stations don’t all have service departments. It wouldn’t help us to see a flat tire if there were no way to repair or replace it.
We knew … from experience … that the service department at the Volkswagen dealer in Orvieto was open this morning. A quick google search found the phone number for Partigiana Volkswagen. I called to confirm that they were, in fact, open … and that they could diagnose and deal with a flat tire. Yes, the mechanic said. Please get here around noon so we have time to solve the problem before we close. Va bene, I replied … navigation says that’s our ETA.
One of David’s first jobs was driving trucks with musicians’ equipment, so he has an excellent sense when a car is or isn’t driving well. He thought the tire might have a slow leak, but nothing that seemed too dangerous (like a catalytic converter) for us to proceed south.
We pulled into the VW service bay at 12.02. The two mechanics inspected, calibrated, tested, checked, and spun. The tire in question was submerged in water. It was fine. All the tires were fine. It was a puzzlement. (And since that time, that dashboard light has never gone on again.)
Grazie … arrivederci, we said, waving as we left. Off we drove to Rome.
Stay tuned for PROGRESSIVE DINNER IN ROME …
BUTTER-CINNAMON CAKE WITH FIG JAM
6 oz. butter, at room temperature
½ cup sugar
1 egg
2–½ cup flour
2 tsps. cinnamon
Pinch salt
Fig jam (preferably homemade)
- Preheat the oven to 350° F (170° C). Butter and flour a 9-inch round springform pan.
- In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar, then mix in egg until well blended. Stir in dry ingredients. Press approximately ¾ of the dough into the prepared pan. Reserve remainder.
- Spoon the jam onto the dough.
- Crumble the remaining dough on top of the jam.
- Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until firm.
- Cool.
- Serve at any temperature.
Enjoy!
