Florence (Firenze)
Art, up close and personal
January 12, 2015; Boboli Gardens
The # 1 dessert in Florence
not counting gelato, of course, is New York style cheesecake ! Cheesecake made with Philadelphia cream cheese Not ricotta. Philadelphia cream cheese.
.
It is on the menu at all the eating establishments: ristorante, osterie, trattorie, and Philadelphia cream cheese is readily available in all food stores.
I would imagine this is how it felt in the U.K. when tea took over.
It just feels so wrong.
But it tastes very good.
Cutting edge old master art
I posted about Cellini’s Perseus here a couple of days ago. Ms. Medusa should never have messed with Mr. Perseus if she wanted to keep her gorgeous head attached to her beautiful body.
Spending the better part of a day yesterday admiring the fabulous collection at the Uffizi Gallery, I couldn’t help but notice how often heads seemed to be rolling. Or prepared to be rolling. Could no one find a better way to solve a problem than beheading? With a sharp edge?
Poor adolescent Isaac in this painting. His dad, Abraham, was willing to cut off his head to please his god. If you know the story, you know that at the lost possible moment an angel showed up and talked Abraham back from the ledge.
Yikes! Stay away from cutting edges if you inhabit the historical world. It is a very dangerous place!
And don’t even get me started on David and Goliath! I’ll be at the Bargello in coming days and I promise I’ll be discussing that theme and Donatello after that.
Prepare yourselves.
This might get bloody.
Ha ha. Never.
Drowning ice cream
Gelato affogatto. Vanilla gelato with a side of hot espresso.
Pour the hot espresso over the gelato and drown it. And prepare to be amazed!
And I remembered to photograph it before I consumed it this time!
Oh, and p.s.: this was my view
I mean, come on, I was on the terrace of the Uffizi.
How can it get any sweeter? Non e possible!
Skies over Florence
Both of the shots above are of the back of Santa Croce.
The shots above and below were taken on the Lungarno, somewhere between the Ponte Vecchio and the American embassy. It was a long walk to the Cascine, but totally worth it.
The sky was amazingly beautiful today. It required being photographed. I couldn’t help myself, I swear!
Lemon tree, very pretty
“Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet
But the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat.”
I honestly didn’t even know I knew these lyrics.***
But, I am a boomer and I inhaled these lyrics while snacking on potato chips, sipping Coca Cola, sitting at our gray formica and chrome table, in our kitchen with the pink refrigerator, wearing my cut-off shorts, and my white Ked “tennis shoes” even though I had yet to play tennis! I had a pixie haircut, was tall for my age and what people referred to as “skinny.” What I wouldn’t give to be skinny again!
Oh, and I had tanned skin. I am very fair with light eyes and I had to burn the top layer of my skin off in order to tan. With baby oil and iodine and/or “suntan lotion” that made me burn faster, allegedly. I am paying for the tanned skin now.
Did you know that Coco Chanel popularized tanning in the 1920s? Up until then, only the poor were tanned because they had no choice but to work outdoors. But, I digress.
And the memories, such as this memory about lemon tree lyrics, show up unannounced. It’s kinda crazy.
So, back to the present.
Today, I followed a path into this secret garden.
How can you not go through this arch when given the chance?
And what a reward!
Potted lemon trees bearing lemons.
Oh, and p.s., there was a potted orange tree too. But I don’t know any lyrics or poems about orange trees.
Or, do I?
No, I don’t. What a relief.
And a potted camellia tree/shrub, which wasn’t doing so well, and made me miss Seattle where camellias are blooming beautifully right now.
The light pink camellia blossoms don’t show well in this photo, but they were really not doing well.
Oh, and another p.s., this isn’t really a secret garden. It is the entryway for the Leather School of Santa Croce. Anyone who has stamina to walk a long way to enter the leather school can see the potted plants and more!
***Will Holt wrote Lemon Tree in the 1950s, basing the tune on a Brazilian folk score arranged by Jose Carlos Burle and made popular by Wilson Simonal. The lyrics compare love to a lemon tree: the tree is pretty, the flower is sweet, but the fruit is impossible to eat. Hmm. Interesting. Thanks to Wikipedia, as usual.
I probably listened to the song on the radio in the late 1950s or 1960s. My dad always had the radio on in his truck and in our house. I might have heard the version recorded by Peter, Paul and Mary, or by The Kingston Trio or any other number of recording artists from the period. In 1965, Trini Lopez’s recorded version of Lemon Tree hit number 20 on the Hot 100 and I probably heard it, and memorized it unknowingly, that year. :-))
These are a few of my favorite things
There is a shop in Florence that is my favorite beyond all others. Along with the potpourri from the pharmacy of Santa Maria Novella, the trimmings from Passamaneria Valmar make life complete.
Or, pretty close to complete.
Well, at least as complete as it can be on earth.
When you wander by this jewel box storefront, just steps away from one of my favorite old pensiones, La Porta Rossa, you know you have stumbled upon something special.
Inside you will find floor to rafters filled with textile trimmings.
But, to call Passamaneria Valmar a trimmings shop is a massive understatement. It is kind of like calling Queen Elizabeth a female. Yes, technically correct, but devoid of all the adjectives that delineate heritage, opulence and tradition.
The shop’s founder, Vittorio Lapi, pictured above, stands behind the counter in his shop. Signor Lapi opened his independent store in the 1960s, on a very prestigious shopping street in the heart of Florence’s historical center. It is located between the Via de’ Tornabuoni and Via de’ Calzaiuoli, really only a stone’s throw from the famed Ponte Vecchio. Thinking of Mr. Lapi’s retirement, the shop is now managed by his children and grandchildren.
From the store’s website, you will find: “tassels for keys and bracelets for curtains, embroidered velvet pillows, patchwork and vintage fabrics, as well as a wide range of centerpieces, table covers, footstools, tapestries, and various furnishing accessories, all strictly of our own production.” The store’s workshop is located right over the shop, so customizing order is never a problem.
It makes me very happy that I have customized sofa pillows and table runners from this purveyor of brocades, silks and velvets. I admire them every single day when I am at home. Just looking at and touching them can transport me in my mind’s eye to Firenze.
The following is also from the store’s website:
“Our store is proud to be the exclusive retailer in Florence of precious articles of “La Contessina” company, Italy’s leading manufacturer of articles of silk velvet (in 25 colors) hand-embroidered such as curtains, pillows, bedspreads, table covers etc… that may also meet the needs of an exclusive clientele. Over its decades long activity the “Passamaneria Valmar” has had the honor and the privilege of furnishing the rooms of the most prestigious Florentine homes in addition to export all over the world.”
There aren’t many places like this left in Florence, for, sadly, the luxurious products speak to an earlier age. I spoke to one of the family members in the shop yesterday and she mentioned how many trim shops in Florence have shuttered their doors permanently.
I hope this fantastic small boutique doesn’t share the same fate. But tastes, and indeed, even Florence, have changed.
Want to visit? start your process here: http://www.passamaneriaonline.it/
Ouch!!
Do not mess with Perseus.
He doesn’t play.
And he is not only out for blood, but he’ll take your head right along with it.
Who: Benvenuto Cellini
What: Perseus with the Head of Medusa
When: c. 1545
Where: Loggia dei Lanzi, Piazza della Signoria, Florence
Why: Because he wanted to. Ha ha. Kidding. His patron commissioned it.
Wickedly, hatefully, mercilessly and brutally expressed. Undeniably gorgeous.
Some people (too many, alas; there, I said it!) come to Florence for the gelato.
Not me.
I come for the wicked beauty. The wickeder, the better. The more beautiful, even beyond wicked. And unquestionably better.
get back, lauretta! 
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