Pure and unadulterated pleasure…read more
Whatever you have been working towards,
You have now encountered Life's Rewards.
* * *
The leprechauns were confused
when they thought the Pot of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow was in Ireland.
The pot of gold is not in Ireland.
It is in Rome at the Pasticceria Barberini.
* * *
Pasticceria Barberini is an old school 1920's pastry shop.
Yeah yeah yeah, they play Italian rap on the sound system.
But the tile on the floor, the decoration on the walls, the marble, the benches and the tables, these are all old school Roma from before the war.
I wish they played Neapolitan tenors of 1925 from when the bakery was founded and not Sferra Ebbasta's and Capo Plaza's hits from last week.
But for THESE pastries, they can play whomever they like, whenever they like.
* * *
The pastry selection is vast and massively massively tempting.
Prudence limited me to two pleasures.
Those pleasures were epiphany, nirvana, and the concluding moment of passion all in one.
The first item was a chocolate bigli.
(That is a cream puff or beignet - but in an Italian shape.)
This. Is. The. Little. Kid. Chocolate. Dessert. Of. Your. Dreams.
A sudden Niagara of chocolate happiness.
The pastry is small.
But you could not take any more happiness in one dose.
* * *
The chocolate bigli was the second best pastry I had.
Yes, you heard that right.
Second best.
* * *
The first best pastry was more of an adult pleasure.
Not so much chocolate storming around you in every direction.
But a subtle mix of complex tastes with as many flavor-colors and striations as a pillar of the finest Italian marble.
I am referring to what they modestly call their carrot cake.
Carrots are what merely held the cake together.
Inside was a kaleidoscope of different savory touches and ribbons of taste.
Orange was a regular accent.
Hazelnut was a regular accent.
Almond weaved in and out of the proceedings.
The longer I tasted, the more I found.
I could have studied that carrot cake for an hour
Eating three slices but taking twenty minutes on each one.
(I only had one slice but I wish I could have had three slices.)
Each new forkful pulled out a different accent I had not noticed before.
A flavor I thought was one thing turned out to be something completely different entirely.
That cake was a crossword puzzle and an atlas of the world and a great big history of art book all in one.
I could have gone over the details for ages and ages and ages.
Each new detail made me happier and happier.
* * *
Just for the record, Barberini's was originally a milk store.
(Yes, in the 1920's Italy had milk stores. Supermarkets were rare and city people did not have a cow. So you went to a milk store to get your daily milk.)
The milk store evolved into a gelateria.
They added the pastry and became famous for the pastry.
The rest is history.
Out of a sense of tradition, they do keep a stock of their own gelato on hand.
For all I know that gelato could be wonderful.
* * *
3/4 of their glass case however is devoted to pastry.
With pastries like this, you can easily see why.
Someone someday should let me know if the gelato is any good.
But it would take the Chains of Prometheus to keep me from ordering a whole plate of pastries the next time that I return here.
