Vivid vivid vivid
A fabulous day, despite being my good friend Y’s last weekend in Florence. We decided to do one last turn around the city for memory’s sake, and what had been quite a melancholic wandering around – a melancholic viewing of the Pontormo at Chiesa Santa Felicita (a painting she had never seen and which I wanted to share with her) and a melancholic gelato at Ponte Santa Trinita – simply turned vivid, and the flowers above were the first hint of that, when we got to Santo Spirito. First there was a really good glass of red, then some rather fine olives, then a loosening of the tongue, then the seafood antipasto platter, which we had ordered as, well, the antipasto, but how wrong we were…
Mains were quickly cancelled. Ristorante Borgo Antico in Piazza Santo Spirito was an easy choice as it’s right in front of Chiesa Santo Spirito, probably my favourite in Florence, and despite the Renaissance riches inside – frescoes by Ghirlandaio and Lippi among them, and a wooden crucifix sculpted by Michelangelo – I have never quite made it past those Brunelleschi designed curves.
Those steps are one of the places you might find me at night, having a glass of wine with friends, music blaring from the cafes and bars that line two sides of the piazza. Quite a contrast.
And just because I really do have a thing for vivid colour, and to give these flowers some context…
Dining out in Oltrarno
A lovely surprise to see a colleague and her mum, who arrived this afternoon from Venice and are stopping in Florence on their way to Rome. We met under Cellini’s bust on the Ponte Vecchio then I whisked them away from the heavily touristed centre to Piazza Santo Spirito, where, at Trattoria La Casalinga, underneath the surreal curves of Santo Spirito Church, we did things completely back to front: we finished our secondi piatti (mains), and then, wanting to try the ribollita (an iconic Tuscan soup), we ordered primi piatti. Our inability to dine in a reasonable Italian fashion charmed our waiter right out of his haughtiness and disdain, causing him to express bemusement, curiosity, interest, and some time before he shook my hand goodnight, to affectionately tweak my nose.
