Home Sweet Firenze

My parents have lived in the same house basically since my birth. So, when I want to go home... there it is and there they are. It's a true sense of home and the comforts of the nooks and crannies that know me so well and hold the secrets of my youth and adolescence.  But, if they didn't still live there, I'd have to imagine that the longing I would have for that homey feeling, that sense of pure knowing of oneself, can be felt, at least somewhat, in my coming back to Firenze.  

I came here my Junior year of college 1993/1994. So - it's been 20 years since my feet stumbled upon these beautifully uneven cobblestone streets. And, getting off the train at Santa Maria Novella felt just as welcoming to me as walking through the front door of my parents home. The smell of all the Italian smokers, the people who talk so loud as if they don't know there are hundreds of complete strangers surrounding them, the comfortable buzz of the scooters that line the streets and the mouth-watering aromas of roasting meats, potatoes and various other wonderfulness from all the rosticerias scattered amid the winding streets of this beautifully ancient city.  

Poor Chris was dragged from memory to memory within moments of arrival. The building I lived in, the bar I drank in, the school I studied in, the cafe I drank cappucino in and the ristorante I ate in. 

I think he just smiled and nodded at me for the first 24 hours we were here. I was ablaze with love for my old home and he was kind enough to let me bask in the glow of my memories. 

On our first night in Florence, after a brief walking tour of old home memories we had just enough time for a good dinner before falling into bed.  There are so many wonderful little restaurants tucked away in each crevice of her streets that Florence makes it almost impossible to decide on a meal, at least for those of us who take eating and drinking as seriously as Chris and I do. 

We settled on Bucca Lapi, which claims to be the oldest ristorante in Florence held in the Buca (or basement) of the Antinori Palace which was the home of my school, Gonzaga in Florence, when here 20 years ago.  Buca Lapi is not only a great  restaurant, but it also swims with memories for me as well. I only dined there twice during my stay in the 90's but they were both etched in my brain.  The first was with a group of friends and visiting parents after my first solo recital in Florence at Christmas time. It was lovely. And the second was when my parents came at the end of my second semster to gather  me up and take me back to the States (via a whirlwhind tour of Switzerland and Amsterdam).  "Oh how nice" - you might think - that my parents would take me out for a meal on my last night in Florence. Well - it wasn't exactly that way. You see- we left the day finals were over, so I had to study up until the day we left (good little school girl that I was).   They invited me out for dinner and I declined because of my intense art history exam the next day.  At about 10 o'clock at night after hours of studying, my friends rampaged my room and demanded I go to a farewell dinner with them.  And so I did. And after descending the stairs of Buca Lappi and sitting dowin to a lovely table in the cozy nest of sumptious odors, I looked across the room only to see my Mom and Dad sitting at the table adjacent to us. They were, as always, such good sports and just smiled and waved and gave me the obligatory hard time all while giving me their blessing. 

So Chris and I sat together in the very same spot;  part of me feeling the nostalgia of years past but at the same time, holding the hand of the man I love - the love I dreamed about those 20 years ago. We ate the meal of a lifetime, drank the wine of the gods and soaked up the new memories we are making each moment together. 

And so our adventure begins, in home sweet, Firenze.