A Yacht Equipped Like No Other.

From Corriere della Sera:

"GENOA – The defence market may be sluggish but if navies are not ordering, there is a customer who wants a submarine, albeit a small one. It will be kept on board a very large yacht. Fincantieri is now gearing up to build the vessel at the shipyard in Muggiano, Liguria. This morning, there will be a ceremony to lay the keel of a 134-metre yacht with seven decks and a small submarine capable of reaching depths of up to one hundred metres. The design has two helicopter platforms, a hangar for a private aircraft and a seawater swimming pool that can also be used for mooring small boats. The yacht will require a crew of about sixty and delivery is scheduled for 2010."

The article goes on to describe the brave new frontier in the industry is non-polluting yachts.

"The world’s first such vessel, which next autumn will flaunt a RINA Green Star to show that it can be entirely self-contained, leaving no emissions in the sea, is a fifty-metre long yacht belonging to Luciano Benetton."

Read the whole article here.

Lupo, the great Genovese Trattoria.

Remember this picture of my Ligurian seafood platter that made so many readers gasp, salivate and then curse me?



I was just reading over the earlier posts and saw that I'd promised more information on the wonderful restaurant, Lupo Antica Trattoria.

Even though it was barely 25 meters from my hotel, I would have missed it save the recommendation of Signora Arianna. As I've told you, Genoa is a maze of narrow little alleys called caruggi, some of which disappear steeply downward from main streets to goodness knows where.

Now I know some of them disappear into heaven.

Such was Vico Monachette, a stone's throw from the Ramada on Via Balbi, in the heart of medieval Genoa. Lupo's is a warm and cozy little inn, which opened a little early for us, thanks to the sainted Arianna's advance calls. The restaurant prides itself on serving the best Liguria has to offer, prepared creatively. The chef adjusts the menu weekly to accomodate the freshest catch or produce. The bilingual menu's English section was charmingly awkward, a word-for-word translation from Italian.

Liz, Cherri, Arianna and I began our meal with an antipasto of grilled radicchio in a roquefort-pine nut sauce. The bitterness of the vegetable was perfect with the creamy cheese and nuts. There was still a little crispness to the radicchio, which contrasted nicely with the velvety smoothness of the sauce.

Our primo piatto was a fresh herb-filled pasta called pansotti, which could be described as triangular ravioli. These little "potbellies" (for that is what the word means, I'm told) came dressed in a creamy walnut sauce (salsa di noci) that screamed, surrender to me!

You've seen the picture of our grilled seafood entree - scampi, prawns, salmon, octopus, and little white fish. It was just barely seasoned. I really appreciated the restraint. The chef was obviously skilled and could have done a million things to the dish, yet chose to respect the quality and freshness of the ingredients and let the food speak for itself. You know, this takes a generosity of spirit - to take oneself out of the equation and let the seafood be its own star. Bravissima.

Our other entree was a typical Ligurian dish - fish and potatoes in basil pesto. So simple, so delicate, so fresh, and oh, so delectable.

The house red wine was an excellent dolcetto, the charms of which I've already sung loud and long in several previous posts. It's most definitely my favorite red now.

We finished up with the best tiramisu I've ever tasted. If you've ever tasted the "faboo" tiramisu made by my dear friend Tina, you'll know this praise is not easily earned. Lupo's version was whipped up to an ethereal airiness, yet the tremendous chocolate, coffee and grappa flavors stood confidently through those creamy layers. But just as I was about to swoon from this, Arianna gave me a taste of her tarte tatin, as warm upside-down apple tart. (Yes, it's a French dessert. Let's not quibble about that while I'm having a moment here.) O Puccini! O Rossini! O Verdi!!! See why I love Genoa so?

As we were leaving I spied The Quartet and wandered over. They were in the middle of rolling their eyes over risotto dell'arancie, Orange Risotto. I wished it was time for dinner to start all over again.

Lupo. Just one more reason I have to get back to Liguria.

Gillian Coldsnow

The devil made him do it. (It could have been the great Genovese olive oil too.)

Genoa’s best-known musical export could well be the violinist Niccolo Paganini, still acclaimed by some as the greatest violin virtuoso of all time. Born in the port city in 1782, he was a performer of such brilliance and drama that women would faint at concerts. Even some men would weep. How to explain such incredible virtuosity? Oh, of course it had to be......could it be......SATAN? (reverberate! reverberate!)

Gosh, if I was Genovese I would really insulted. What do you mean, you don’t think one of our boys could be this good unless he consorted with the devil?

In any case, Paganini’s favorite instrument was a Guarneri, nicknamed Il Cannone (“The Cannon”) because of its soaring resonance – some even say it’s an aggressive sound. The violin is considered Guarneri’s finest creation; the last of the great violins made in Cremona. At Paganini’s death, he gave Il Cannone was given to his beloved city of Genoa.

And that’s where we saw it, in a glass case in a dimly-lit room in the Palazzo Tursi Museum. I don’t know all that much about violins, but I could tell there was something different about this particular instrument. I later read that the neck is short and flat – and obsolete. There are dark spots in places – greasy fingers? did Niccolo forget to wash his fingers after indulging in Genovese farinata? Just imagining Paganini’s very hands on that violin before me generated a frisson.

Also in that room is the only copy every made of Il Cannone. The virtuoso gave that to his favorite student. It’s possible that’s the only reason we remember the student’s name, as this instrument is known as the “Sivori.” Tsk. He played second fiddle to...his violin?

(Sorry, it was too good to resist.)

Il Cannone is not confined to life in a vacuum. Every year the winner of Genoa’s "Paganini Competition" (open to anyone under age 34) earns the right to play the hallowed instrument on October 12, Columbus Day. Great way to tie it in to Genoa's other favorite son, Christopher Columbus. But the person who created the most controversy with Il Cannone is an African-American musician, Regina Carter. In 2001 the City of Genoa invited her to play jazz on Paganini’s Guarneri. (There's that whole devil thing again!) It was scandalous, but ultimately, Miss Carter charmed all the skeptics, and everybody lived happily ever after.

Incidentally, pictures are not allowed at the museum. The images above are from the City of Genoa website.

And here's an in-depth article (bilingual) on the technical aspects of Il Cannone.

I leave you with a Paganini quote:

"I am not handsome, but when women hear me play, they come crawling to my feet."

Gillian Coldsnow

It’s about a hundred miles from Milan to Genoa

Originally posted 5/22

Along the way we passed one picturesque little town after another. They all seemed to have laundry hanging out the dry and small but healthy rooftop gardens.

Along the way, we crossed the river Po and agricultural country. Lots of rice, wheat, some corn – and for some reason unknown to me, lots of stunningly vivid red poppies growing in patches amidst the crops.



We also saw tiny little strips of grape vines scattered here and there – most likely raising just a small supply of grapes for the farmer’s personal winemaking.

As Genoa came within view, Arianna pointed out a old church on the hill above the sea. She said sailors used to go there to pray for safety on their long and often dangerous voyages. Their wives would also go there to pray for the men's safety. Our bus driver piped up that one could be sure some wives prayed fervently for their husbands NOT to return! No doubt.

Genoa's Cathedral of San Lorenzo.

I made it a point to visit many of these spots in Italy.

This confessional was in Genoa's medieval San Lorenzo cathedral.

But enough with the baring of my soul. (It would take a verrrrrrrrrrrrry long blog.)

The Cathedral of San Lorenzo was consecrated in 1118. This makes it older than Milan's Duomo by more than two centuries! However, the distinctive black-and-white striped exterior was added in the 1500s.


This is the arch above the cathedral entrance. It was hard for me to get a wide shot of the outside of the cathedral, because the square in front of it is astonishingly small, so one cannot step back far enough to get a shot of the facade without special equipment. But get a good look at the facade at this site. (When you get to the page, you may have to click on "skip this ad" to see the photo.)

San Lorenzo holds many relics, including remains long believed to be those of John the Baptist. This is the chapel of San Giovanni Battista.


Detail above the altar.

The remains were stolen in Turkey. Are they really John's? As our guide Fausta said, that's not really the issue for the Genovese. What matters is their faith, that their city is protected by that particular saint.

Her are more pictures of the interior of San Lorenzo.

Last Supper, by Procaccino (I think!).

In the chapel of John the Baptist are three statues of Christiany's strongest mother figures: Eve, Mary and John's mother Elizabeth. It was nice to see Eve in the mix. Opposite the mothers are strong fathers, including St. Joseph. But you'll see Christ's legal guardian in several other spots in the San Lorenzo Cathedral. He's a pretty popular guy.


Now, this statue of St. Joseph is not in the John the Baptist chapel, but on the opposite end of the San Lorenzo cathedral. I really liked it. It's rare to see Jesus portrayed as a child - not an infant or toddler, but a child, and a cheerful one at that. (I really miss my little Joseph back home now!)

All right, back to the things that REALLY matter.

That was just one of the entrees (yes, honestly, just one!) we ordered for dinner at Lupo's tonight, a mixed grill of seafood. It tasted even better than it looks. (More on Lupo's later.) With dinner we ordered a bottle of one of those fabulous Italian wines you seldom see in the US, dolcetto, a beautiful dry red from the neighboring Piemonte region.

And more on food:

Gelato! It really is a very different experience than ice cream. The texture is so light, the gelato gives no resistance in the mouth. Flavors are clean, and hit you just the right way.

The crucial question the gelateria poses to you at the ordering stand: cono or copetta?

You can choose as many flavors as you wish to load into your cone or cup. Besides the berry, mango, chocolate and coffee, there are flavors that could mystify. Want vanilla? Order "fior di latte," "flowers of milk. How poetic! Want mixed berries? Try "frutti di bosco," "fruit of the woods." Also try straciatella (vanilla with chocolate layers), cocco (coconut), nocciolo (hazelnut), prugna (plum), melone, ananas (pineapple) and mele (apple.

The City Between the Hills and Sea

As we approached Genoa, we caught glimpses of the Mediterranean sea. The Ligurian capital is perched in the center of a crescent-shaped bit of shoreline, and spreads upwards into the hills. It’s a gorgeous mix of buildings, from medieval to modern. (Not the best picture, I know - I'll try to get a better one tomorrow.)

See this turret-like tower right beside the apartment building?



The medieval feel to the city is still evident. The medieval quarter streets are unbelievably narrow! They're called caruggi (kah-ROO-jee).



Well, yes of course, being as unbelievably tall as I am, I suppose my arm span indicates the streets are not quite that narrow after all. But look at this now:


Here are a couple of other pictures of Genoa's streets. I am really loving this city. There's something about it, I swear, that feels like an Asian city before modernization. The narrow alleys, the streets lining those alleys...the carabinieri patrolling the caruggi and the Genoese citizens.....


....and ticketing them!! Oh by the way, I had my own brush with Italian police this morning. I was trying to call my tour mates in room 112. Was so groggy from lack of sleep that I dialed '0112' - unaware that in Italy, dialing '0' at a business will give you and outside line. And that is how I found out that the Italian equivalent of 9-1-1, is 1-1-2.

"Pronto. Carbinieri!"

Oooooooooooooooooooh!!


Cherri and Liz inside a university foyer. The entrance is an ancient stone portico.



More of that mix of medieval and contemporary. The arch leads into a steep driveway. Wouldn't you like to have an antiquarian marble saint protecting your window?