Editorials

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1. The Roman Food Tour

If there was one really good thing about being in Rome, it was the food. The creamy morning Cappuccinos, the bite size ham and cheese sandwiches, which were made with fresh cheese from the countryside and the gelato.

It almost made me forget about how wonderful the food is in the farmlands of New Jersey.

Almost.

Mesmerized by the tastiness of the food, and wanting to learn more, I booked The Roman Food Tour for myself, my daughter and my stepdaughter.

The tour took place in the Prati neighborhood. The Prati neighborhood was a modern and stylish neighborhood with boutiques, small family owned restaurants, and food stores that looked right out of “Moonstruck.”

We started our food tour at one of those small family owned places, La Niccha. At the La Niccha Cafe, we were welcomed with a plate of food which looked like Michelangelo had designed it. On the left side, there was a pale green artichoke gently seated on a bed of lettuce. Below the artichoke was a luminous red sun dried tomato. In the middle, there were three slices of toast, one dipped in the tastiest oils. One was an olive oil that tasted like a rich buttery dessert an Italian grandmother would’ve made. The other two were a basil and sun dried tomato spreads.

They weren’t quite for me, but boy did my stepdaughter and daughter love them. On the right hand side of the plate, there was an assortment of cheeses. There was mozzarella and hard cheeses, with oil and fig toppings. The fig topping was a creamy, delightful burst of fig, oil whipped into a buttery topping.

It almost made me forget that there was no air conditioning anywhere in Rome.

Almost.

While we were at La Niccha grazing, we learned how to properly toast. Our tour guide, Stefania, told us that in Italy, you have to look into the eyes of the person while toasting and say “Chin Chin.” Stefania said if the person’s eyes didn’t meet as they tap their glasses, it would bring bad luck.

Stefania’s story about “Chin Chin” and an abundance of great red and white wine brought a group of strangers together into being a group of best friends for the night.

Our new found friend group consisted of a fiery redheaded chef we quickly monikered Melbourne, after the city she was from. There were two doe-eyed newlyweds from Florida who were in Rome for their honeymoon, a single guy from California, an older couple from Sydney and a teacher from Turkey.

As the food, and wine flowed, we got to know Rome and each other.

On the walk from La Niccha to the La Tradizione, a meat and cheese shop, I got to know the woman from the older couple in Sydney. She had a few grandchildren and she and her husband were taking time to travel around Italy and were going to go on a cruise down the Rhine River next on their grand tour of Europe.

We ate cured meats and fresh cheeses and learned about how they are made. They were paired with red wines and white wines and so much wine I forgot the names of the food we ate.

From La Tradizione we went to the Pizzarium owned by Gabriele Bonci, who has been named the “Michelangelo of Pizza” by the Romans. There we learned the Romans eat their pizza topped with potatoes – and it was delicious. I don’t know if it was the fresh mozzarella, the home grown potatoes or the fresh water that makes the dough, but it was the best pizza I had ever eaten and paired with the best red wine I have ever tasted.

From pizza, we went for a three course meal at IL Segreto. We started our meal with another course of meat and cheeses followed by a pasta course. While we ate thick, handmade pasta Stefania told us the tale of why Fettuccine Alfredo can’t be found in any restaurants in Italy.

Apparently, as I recall, Alfredo made a special cheese sauce for his mother because she was really sick. It made her feel better and he began serving it at his restaurant and it took off. A restaurant tried to copy Alfredo’s special sauce and he sued them, and now there’s no Fettuccine Alfredo to be found in all of Italy. Only in Little Italy!

Our night ended with gelato at a gelato cafe. We all made chef Melbourne order first, because we knew, after going to several restaurants with her, and trying to set her up with the chef at IL Segreto, that she knew how to pair flavors together well. We all ate a tasty combination of cherry, chocolate and pistachio that gave us comfort, happiness and a great ending to a special night, Roman style.

2. Everyone should work an automobile claims desk at least once in their career

If there’s anything I’ve learned in my multiple careers it’s that everyone should work an automobile claims desk at one point in their professional career.

It seems like an odd thing, how working an automobile insurance claims desk prepared me to be a journalist, a mom and for any other kind of career, but in order for me to explain fully we need to go back to the beginning of the millennium.

Picture it, as Sophia from the “Golden Girls” would say, the year 2001, when Y2K had become a thing of the past, 9/11 hadn’t happened yet, and everyone just bought the newest technology fad, an Ipod for their favorite tunes.

As the year began, I started working for a property insurance marketing firm in central New Jersey, and it was a big step up from the small agency I had worked at for years. Walking into the foyer of my new office, I noticed it was decorated elegantly with dark black leather chairs, a golden glass desk between them and had a pretty receptionist, sitting behind a large oak desk, who greeted me.

“Hello, how can we help you?” she smiled brightly.

“I’m here to meet with David,” I looked down and my shiny new Steve Madden shoes.

“Oh, you must be our new associate broker,” the receptionist’s cheeks looked like apples as she grinned brightly. “I will call him.” She picked up the phone, nodded a bunch, and said, “OK. Our human resources manager will be with your shortly, please sit down.”

Nodding my head, I sat in one of the leather chairs and waited. As I looked around, I noticed the blue carpet was embellished with golden flowers and the cubicles were bigger than any office I had ever seen. Plus, each person working in a cubicle had one of those new fancy ergonomic chairs – I knew that I had, for lack of a better term, out punted my reach, but what could I do. I was there, I needed a paycheck and health insurance.

I had to learn to do the job quickly, and I did.

About a year later, after the world, and the sky, had been tempered by 9/11, everyone was having a good laugh at the hit movie “My Big Fat Greek Wedding,” I had found my stride.

At that time, I had begun working with David, the president of the company, who was a kind, but demanding boss. Often, when I would work up a proposal for a client, I’d miss a comma or misspell a word and he would say, “Marin, we need things to be crispy. Crispy like a perfect salad.” Usually, I’d just take the paper back, smile, leave his office and roll my eyes feeling as though there was no room for human error. But, there I knew there were rewards for good work, so I kept working at it.

Quite often, when we were on deadline, David would have human resources order us food, and he was very generous with bonuses. If the company was making money, we were making money. He was also generous with professional growth.

As my proposals and grunt work got better, so did my ability to take on other more challenging tasks. One of those tasks was to manuscript a policy form, basically help to write a contract that would help companies get their insurance claims covered. I was really good at that, I love to write.

David would would tell me what to write and I would write it. When I handed it to him to read, he’d smile, “This is amazing! Perfect.” He also taught me how to speak to people. He’d often let me make a phone call to a client. Before he’d let me make the call, he’d impart this wisdom on me, “we’re story tellers,” he’d say, “tell them a story that will make them want to do what you need.”

That was also very easy for me as I love telling stories. After speaking to a client, and getting them to agree, I would walk into David’s office and tell him the good news. “Wow, you go the client to agree to that,” David’s eyes would light up. “Good job! Now let’s see if we can’t get those commas into your proposals.” This went on till about 2006. In 2006, I began dating my late husband and I quit as my husband was a good provider and I didn’t need to work, or so I thought.

About two years into not working, I got so bored, I started calling my husband every few hours at work. At one point he said, “Marin, maybe you should find a job.” My late husband was right, so I found a job as working at an automobile claims desk, and this job taught me why being crispy and commas are important. It also taught me how to juggle task, people, and multiple platforms effectively.

Every day, multiple times a day, claims would come in. I had to call the claimant within two hours of receiving their claim. Then I would have to take a statement from them, order the police report and send out an estimator to look at the damage.

I had to do this while reading and interpreting policy forms to see if there was coverage, emailing back clients and attorneys while determining if a claim was fraudulent or not. It sounds like a lot, but it really wasn’t. Because David had taught me to be “crispy” and he taught me to “tell as story that people will understand,” by doing both I often got great reviews from my clients and caught a few people trying to work the system, which brought great accolades from my superiors, but no promotions.

It also showed me how a comma can change a legal interpretation of a contract making it so someone whose policy cancelled wound up having coverage for a big accident (true story) and how a guy just trying to feed his family by delivering papers didn’t get paid because of where the comma was placed in the contract (also, true).

After about nine months of working there, I became a mom, and ultimately couldn’t juggle work, baby and home life.

So I quit corporate America.

But what I learned working at an automobile claims desk, the juggling of the multiples that keep multiplying, has helped me to be a better mom and journalist as both require juggling multiple people, platforms and emails, all at once while writing and telling stories in a truthful, fun, and factual way.

Now only if I could figure out my commas.

3. Uber Fun in Italy

About 20 years ago I traveled to Rome for the first time, and at that time I found the city to be fascinating with its ancient architecture, amazing food, laid back aura and cozy accommodations. And, while that hasn’t changed in 20 years, I have.

As I have aged, I’ve become accustomed to the creator comforts of home. Chinese food at any time of the day, Dunkin Donuts at every corner, McDonald’s breakfast on Sundays, bagels, lox, unbridled access to everything in New York City and air conditioning.

Air conditioning was the one thing I missed the most, especially since the weather surpassed 90 degrees daily.

Strong air condition is very important to me, since I have Fibromyalgia. Fibromyalgia is a chronic disease that causes pain and numbness in the body, particularity in the hands and feet. During the summer, the pain seeps into my muscles and causes a burning sensation in my arms and legs – and causes me to sweat uncontrollably.

Air conditioning with this condition is a life saver.

To help deal with the lack of air conditioning, pretty well everywhere, I wound up taking “Ubers” around the city.

Most of the time, the “Ubers” were very convenient and comfortable. All I had to do was order the car off of my phone and a lovely Mercedes car or van would pick me up from wherever I was located, and normally the drivers were very friendly.

The first driver I encountered was Massimo, who drove us to our hotel from the airport. Massimo was a gentleman who wore a dark blue jacket and a tie and carried our bags from the airport exit to the car. As soon as I said “Senior, so hot,” he turned up the air conditioning in the car and said “Me too.”

We drove happily and comfortably, making me think that Uber was for sure the best way to get around town.

My blessings with good Uber drivers continued when I called for a car a few days later to take me to Luiss University. The university was only about a half hour walk from my hotel, but since it was 97 degrees with 61 percent humidity, I called an Uber.

Andrea picked me up in a Mercedes Van from the hotel. He made lots of jokes about the weather and taught me general Italian greetings so I didn’t sound like an uneducated American. As I said “Bon Giourndo” instead of “Bon Journo” he laughed. “Very good,” he said. “People would be glad that you tried.”

While Andrea was kind, and funny, my favorite Uber driver was Ivan. Ivan was from the Ukraine and was just as happy to find someone to speak English with as I was.

Ivan told me he moved to Rome to be with his mom and he had been living there for 14 years, and His wife lives in New York City – and he wanted to move to New York City to be with her.

Ivan and I talked about Rome and how it was such a green city with great food. We talked about how New York has great architecture, and a beautiful skyline while Rome has magnificent ancient ruins.

My time with Ivan was lovely, and I rated him five stars and gave him a 20 percent tip – which in Rome is huge because it is not customary to tip in Italy.

I was so happy having met such nice drivers, that I found myself “Ubering” everywhere.

Yet, on one Uber trip, to the outskirts of Rome, I had the worst Uber experience of my life.

Our Uber driver, Elvio, had picked us up from the center of the city and drove us to Pigneto, an up and coming area just outside of the city. My daughter, step daughter and I ventured to this part of the city to explore the street art of Rome with a tour group.

Driving to this part of the Rome was a bit scary for us as it looked like the Lower East Side in New York. Much like the Lower East Side, which is up and coming, there were parts that were nice, but there were many homeless people and a homeless tent encampment in some micro-areas. But in other micro-areas there were nice restaurants, cafes and shops – which is normal for an up and coming area.

But in a strange city, where you don’t know which micro-area is safe, it is scary.

We got to the middle of a random street in Pigento and Elvio stopped.

“Get out!” Elvio shouted at us.

Stunned by how abruptly nasty he was, we anxiously exited the Uber.

Before we could shut the door, Elivo, sped off.

Thankfully, our tour guide saw us get out of the car, and hurried over to us.

“Thank God I was here,” our tour guide said. “I’ve never seen that happen before, where an Uber driver just leaves someone in the middle of the street.”

We began our tour by stopping at a local pizzeria, which was in one of nice micro-areas of Pigneto. While we were eating our pizza and chatting, my daughter noticed she had lost her phone.

Immediately, I contacted the driver through the Uber app asking where I could meet him to get her phone.

Elvio called, and our tour guide, who was fluent in English, answered the phone and spoke to the driver in Italian and translated the call into English for me.

“The driver said he wants 60 Euro, to return the phone to you, and he can’t do it till tonight,” the tour guide said.

My daughter started crying.

“That was the last thing daddy gave to me before he died,” she said. “All of his pictures and text messages to me are on there.”

The tour guide translated what my daughter said into Italian for Elvio, and he agreed to drop off the phone to our hotel late in the evening.

“The driver said to have the concierge at the hotel call him when you arrive back at the hotel,” the tour guide said.

We took our tour and went back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at our hotel, we asked the concierge to call Elvio, just like he asked us to do.

The concierge called him.

“The driver says he wants 100 Euro to drop off the phone,” the concierge said.

“Tell him I’ll give him 20 Euro for gas,” I said.

“He said no he wants 100 Euro,” the concierge said.

“This isn’t a mob movie, he’s not Robert DeNiro and I will not be bullied,” I said. “Tell him I’ll give him 20 Euros for gas, that’s more than fair since gas here 1.77 Euro.”

The concierge responded that Elvio still wanted 100 Euro to drop off the phone.

“Forget it!” I said.

“Forget it?” the concierge asked.

“Yes, tell him don’t bother dropping off the phone,” I said.

Walking away, with my daughter sobbing, I picked up my phone and called T-Mobile.

A kind lady named Vicki answered my call. Vicki said that this happens with Uber drivers all the time, especially when people are on vacation. Vicki reported the phone as stolen and had a new one sent by FedEx to our home in Hunterdon County.

Although my daughter was happy to get a new phone, she was still sad because she had lost something invaluable – the last physical presence of her deceased father.

Through a bit of thought, and a quick miracle, my daughter was able to retrieve the photos and text messages from her phone and get them onto her IPad, and we all slept soundly that night knowing that we didn’t let some wanna-be mobster take advantage of us.

The following morning, on our way down to breakfast, the concierge called us over to her desk.

“Madame, a man dropped this off for you this morning,” the concierge said.

It was my daughter’s cell phone.

“Well, I guess a stolen phone has no value,” I said.

4. A little bit of home in Rome

Living within 45 minutes of New York City gives the average bridge-and-tunneler a bit of tunnel vision when it comes to other cities. And, while New York is the greatest metropolitan city in the world (OK so maybe I'm a little biased), it is interesting how there is a bit of the Big Apple in everywhere I roam.

That includes Rome, Italy.

In Rome during the summer, it is hot. Blazing like Miami in the middle of summer hot, and there is a minimal amount of air conditioning.

As I walked about the black cobbled streets by the Vatican, sweat encompassed my entire body. Searching for a place to cool off, I found a McDonald's a little less than a mile from the Vatican.

Thrilled to feel the comfort of the air conditioning, I meandered into this small bit of home to happily order a double cheeseburger and fries. Cheese Fries! 

In Rome, you can get a double cheeseburger with an extra special side of cheese fries or every cheese fries with bacon.

Along with my cheese fries, I got a soccer ball.

Alas while searching for a bit of the creature comforts of home, I found a bit of comfort food, too.

After consuming mass quantities of comfort food, and still feeling a bit sweatier than a soccer player after a game, I tried to find another way to cool off.

Looking around, I noticed Italian women were dressed very elegantly. The wore linen shirts and pants, in simple colors like blue, beige or white. A stark contrast to the black leggings and black t-shirt that had become my go to wardrobe - and what had become part of the reason why I was so hot.

Perhaps these elegant ladies had a good idea, trading my black wardrobe for a lighter shade.

Roaming around the streets by the Vatican, I found an area which resembled Chinatown. In that area, I found a store called OVS, a nicer and more upscale version of H&M. There I found two pars of pants, one white with a light blue striping and a beige pair on sale for less than what I'd pay for my black leggings in states, even with the conversion rate.

Excited to be a bit cooler in my clothing, and not to mention to be in a store with air conditions that rivaled Macy's in Herald Square, I perused the sale section of the store, with store security following me around because I looked like a crazy homeless person, and bought two pairs of pants, and four shirts - and changed.

After changing into my new clothes, the security guard gave me a smile.

"Ciao," I said waiving my hand, as I tripped down the steps and out of the store - not very elegantly. 

After regaining my composure, I made my way to the souvenir shop, where the gentleman spoke perfect English. 

"Lady, I will give you both bags for $10," he said.

"Don't you mean 10 Euros?" I asked.

"Yes, 10," he said. 

Feeling just like I had found a secret spot in Chinatown with major bargains, I went into New Yorker, er, New Jerseyan, er grew up on the East Cost and don't mess with me while I am shopping for a bargain mode.

"How much for that shirt?" I asked the man while pointing at a silk pink shirt. 

"18," he said. 

"Fine I will take two," I said. 

He took down the shirts and put them on the counter. He looked over and saw me sweating.

"Come miss, stand over here by the air conditioner," he said.

I stood by the air conditioning as he brought me over a leather backpack I had been eyeing. 

"I give to you very cheap," he said.

"How about $75 dollars for everything?" I said.

"For everything?" he said. "Lady, are you crazy?"

Ah a bit of home. 

"95 dollars?" I said.

"OK, the man conceded. 

I pulled out 95 dollars.

"No lady, Euros not dollars," the man said.

I laughed, and handed the man 95 Euros.

"Thank you," he said.

"Grazie," I said. 

"You're welcome," he said.

I stepped out of the store, and onto the curb, I opened my phone and ordered an Uber, and I thought there's nothing like a bit of home.

Even in Rome.

5. ANIMAL KINGDOM: Rescue Rompus

Over the past 17 years, our family has adopted seven dogs from various area rescues. Each one of our dogs has brought not only an endless amount of love to our home but also a lot of laughs.

We adopted our first dog Mae in November 2007 from St. Hubert’s in Madison.

Mae was an English Pointer/Dalmatian mix and I fell in love with her the minute I saw her.

She was my best friend and came everywhere with me. We would spend hours hiking through Voorhees Park in Lebanon Township or Cold Brook Preserve in Tewksbury Township.

Not only was she a sweet dog, but she was a source of endless entertainment for me and my family.

On Thanksgiving, when we were all done eating, Mae jumped up on the dinner table and ate the mashed potatoes right from the serving dish. There she was, standing in between the good china and the crystal glasses licking the bowl clean.

Mae was also very smart.

There was one time when I had gone food shopping and she was in the car. I was only gone about 10 minutes when Mae took her nose, pushed the button to open the hatch of my car. She then proceeded to figure out how to get automatic doors to the food store to open and walked into the store.

Over the loud speaker I heard, “Uh, if someone has a white dog with black spots and a red collar she is by the deli.”

“Mae!” I said.

She came trotting over with her tail wagging, panting and smiling, as if to say, “Good, I found you.”

My favorite memory of Mae was the day we brought my daughter home. Like most dogs, Mae was very excited to meet her little sister. We let Mae lick and sniff my daughter then proceeded to put her in the bassinet. Well, Mae wasn’t done playing with her new sister, she jumped right up to the leg of the bassinet and gave her sister kisses.

She was a sweet and loving dog who went over the rainbow bridge in September 2020.

Mae’s best friend was our dog Blarney who we got from 11th Hour Rescue in Flanders. Blarney had been a stray walking around the streets of Roxbury when he was picked up by animal control. He spent two years at the shelter until one day my husband found him online and said “we are going to adopt this dog.”

We took Blarney home and at first he was a little leery of his new people, but he loved Mae and his little human sister – who was six months old then.

Blarney would often lay under his human sister’s high chair while she was eating or sit next to her pack and play while she was playing.

Blarney became very attached to our family and would suffer from separation anxiety. One time, we left him home, and he opened a window, chewed through a screen and jumped out a second floor window to get out of the house. Another time he chewed through a door, letting himself into the garage then managed to chew through the insulation in the garage doors, managing to create a whole big enough through the door that he was able to lift the door up with his nose far enough to get under the garage door and get out.

Both times we found the dog sitting under his tree when we returned home.

From then on, if Blarney wanted he stayed home under his tree or we took him with us in our new car we bought for him, because it had an automatic start that would allow the car to run for an extended period of time with the air conditioning or heat running.

I would often leave signs on the car that said air conditioning running, his favorite music station is on. He’s got a good life and is enjoying it.

Blarney passed in September of 2014 and we adopted a new dog Onyx, a Great Dane Mix, who looked almost exactly like Blarney. Onyx wound up coming home with us because my daughter sat down next to his kennel and held his paw until I promised to adopt him.

Onyx came home and became the quintessential family dog. He was well behaved and was the happy lovable dog that welcomed everyone who walked in with a wagging tail.

Onyx was also a great farm dog. He was often found chasing foxes off the property when they tried to attack the chickens or barking at birds warning them to stay off the property and away from the chickens.

Onyx is now 11-years-old and has slowed down, but he is still going strong. Just the other day he figured out how to remove the air conditioner from the window and climbed out the window and onto the roof of the garage, where he stood with his brothers Tommy and Leo barking at passing cars.

Tommy was adopted from the Somerset Regional Animal Shelter in Bridgewater. He is a crafty dog who figures out how to open gates, doors and food containers.

Leo came to us from the Big Dog Rescue Project in Gladstone. He is a Westipoo who commands the house through loud barking and mischievous tactics like jumping on tables to steal all of the treats.

Alas there is Violet. Violet, who also came from the Big Dog Rescue Project in Gladstone, is a LabWawa – a Labrador/Chihuahua mix. She has the intelligence of the Chihuahua and the temperament of a Labrador. Her deep brown eyes light up when anyone calls her name. Her tail wags and she bounces up and down, with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She loves giving kisses and makes everyone feel happy and loved.

This is what dog do, make us feel loved.