NAILING LA DOLCE VITA OF ROME: THE ETERNAL CITY

Ristorante Bar del Fico

We wouldn’t be the first to call Rome the world’s greatest outdoor museum. And no matter how many times we go to the Eternal City, we stop dead in our tracks at the first glimpse of the Pantheon as we turn into the Piazza della Rotonda. Ditto the Trevi Outdoor dining in the Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere. Fountain, the Spanish Steps, and the Colosseum (all recently restored— grazie to Fendi, Bulgari, and Tod’s, respectively).

But what we realize, especially if we’ve been to Rome more than once, is that the monuments themselves are not the destination. They are, rather brilliantly, the backdrop to a lifestyle we came here for. We are talking about the Roman la dolce vita—the art of lingering over long lunches and carafes of house wine in villa-lined piazzas, strolling down impossibly narrow cobblestone vicoli with no particular destination in mind. (You’ll almost always end up at some gelateria or in another ivy-covered square.) Anyone who wants to know what really makes an authentic cacio e pepe or carbonara (starchy pasta water, not cream) knows it’s worth sacrificing another day in the Vatican to join the locals in the trattorias of Testaccio and the Jewish Ghetto.

If you’re still craving a culture fix, head to the newer, lesser- known spots northof and around the Piazza del Popolo (but know where to grab your pizza afterward). What follows is how to get out of monument-checklist mode and live like a Roman, with tips from the native and transplanted designers, writers, and hoteliers who know best.

Where Romans Weekend

Monti skirts the ancient Forum, yet this effortlessly hip Roman enclave, with its ocher villas and cobblestone lanes, somehow still remains under the tourist radar. If you come in the morning, slices of ciambellone cake will still be warm from the oven at Panificio Monti (which is way better than the trendier-looking Zia Rosetta, nearby). Take your slice down to the Renaissance fountain in the Piazza della Madonna dei Monti to eat with the Colosseum at your back.

Then spend a couple of hours browsing the racks in the ateliers near the via del Boschetto before sitting down to a long lunch of fettuccine with artichokes and lentils at L’Asino d’Oro. Walk it off on the via Urbana, perhaps our favorite street in the area for its ivy-draped cafés, and at boutiques like Moll Flanders, one of Monti’s excellent consignment shops, where you can pick up Ann Demeulemeester coats and Fiorentini & Baker boots.

Then get to the via Panis-perna for a Negroni at the Sacripante Art Gallery’s gorgeous old turn-of-the-century bar before moving on to the wildly popular Ai Tre Scalini, which pairs killer stuffed pizzette with Tuscan reds for aperitivo. There’ll be a crowd to get in (Romans infamously do not form lines), but it moves fast.

Want a Real Taste of Rome?

Then you head to Testaccio, home to the city’s share of salt-of-the-earth, offal-centric trattorias manned by graying waiters who’ve been there since boyhood. But before we sit down, we always start at the Mercato di Testaccio, a food market where the stalls begin closing around 1:30 P.M. Head to Mordi e Vai (stall 15), helmed by the sure-to-make-you-smile Sergio Esposito.

Try the picchiapò, a Roman specialty of shredded beef cooked in tomatoes and onions, spooned onto a not-quite-dense-enough roll (ask for extra napkins), and cross the road to MACRO Testaccio, a modern art museum in a former abattoir where this month you’ll see Rafael Y. Herman’s nature-inspired installations. That odd hill you’ll notice upon leaving the museum is Monte Testaccio, formed around 2,000 years ago from a heap of 53 million olive oil jugs discarded during the Roman Empire.

Past the hill, you’ll find Volpetti, Rome’s famous 44-year-old salumeria, whose sleek charcuterie bar, Taverna Volpetti, launched last year right next door. (The salumeria vacuum-packs cheeses and meats for you to take home.) Don’t fill up too much on the salumi with your falanghina; you’ll want room for the stewed pajata (veal intestines with milk) from 60-year-old Agustarello, down the road. Or if you don’t quite have the, er, stomach for all that (we get it), do the no-fail carbonara at Flavio Al Velave vo detto, where the beaten eggs form a silky coating for the house-cut rigatoni.

Don’t Be a Tourist in the Centro

The best way to guarantee a leisurely stroll down the Spanish Steps, past the Trevi Fountain, and through the Piazza Navona with Audrey Hepburn–esque abandon is to do it all before 9 A.M., when the crowds are still seriously thin (we’ve had the piazza to ourselves at 7:30 A.M. in July, and it was epic).

Then spend the rest of the day in a lesser-known pocket nearby. Our favorite is the Piazza del Fico, which opens from the tangle of streets behind Navona, near the now-shuttered, still-beloved Bar della Pace (R.I.P.). It’s a microcosm of Roman street scenes: old men sitting at chess tables (ask to play, but they’ll likely shoot you the infamous Roman eye), Vespas buzzing in and around, and Romans sipping espresso and wine at outdoor tables all day (do Bar del Fico for the former and Etablì for the latter).

Or if you’ve had lunch in the Jewish Ghetto (remember, it’s largely shut on Saturdays), slip through the Via della Reginella to admire the quirky Fontana delle Tartarughe in the Piazza Mattei, which is lined with palaces from the seventeenth century.

Fill a Day Around The Vatican

Start off early, south of Prati, at the underrated sixteenth-century Villa Farnesina. Unlike at the Vatican Museums, you won’t have to battle any crowds while admiring Raphael’s frescoes here, and tours are offered in English on Saturdays at 10 A.M. Then walk up to Prati, where you should grab a trapizzino, some prosciutto, and a glass of red for lunch at café Il Sorpasso, before waiting in the inevitable line for St. Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel.

If it isn’t aperitivo hour by the time you’re finished at the Vatican, pop into the nearly 2,000-year-old Castel Sant’Angelo, and then hit the salumi and slices of pecorino during happy hour at the Art Deco Chorus Café, next door (it’s famous for its dry martinis). Don’t rush back across the Tiber for dinner: Solo Crudo is a vegetable-forward spot doing impossibly delicious cacio e pepe zucchini spaghetti.

By Ondine Cohane, Mark Ellwood, Erin Florio and Katie Parla in "Condé Nast", USA, March 2017, excerpts pp.52-58. Adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.