If there’s anything I love more than brunch, it’s a foreign city’s regional take on brunch. In Rome, there’s a place called Urbana 47 that has a multo bene 4-course special on weekends with a distinctly Italian twist.
They start you off with a cheesy mozzarella wrap that is just the type of thing you’d reach for on the morning after the night before – followed by a ladle of pumpkin pasta in a beef ragout. Mamma mia! This duo of carbs is a hangover cure that doesn’t mess around!
Afters, we trudged over to St Peters where crews were setting up chairs for mass. I mingled with the pilgrims and wandered around the basilica for a bit. What a fascinating place. You could feel the power and influence throbbing off the walls of the place – like little electric waves. It was almost more intimidating than it was spiritual. I felt a bit like a pilgrim myself…
That evening we dolled ourselves up, donned our LBDs, and headed out for drinks at the infamous Hotel de Russie.
Everyone warned us Bar Stravinskij is dreadful. But we weren’t deterred; we had a feeling its glossy reputation as the place VIPs and politicians came to not lay low would verify its status as of one of the most iconic bars in Rome. Located in the courtyard gardens of Hotel de Russie, complete with Roman ruins and views of Villa Borghese, this place was indeed a society hotspot. The room fizzed with activity, like the bubbles in our champagne flutes. With Kevin Spacey wooing his Italian toyboy on one side of us, and a pair of blond women of ill repute in platform boots chatting up a potential john on the other, the people-watching was hilarious. We spent two hours in a perpetual fit of giggles.
After tittering the evening away, we cavorted off into the night in search of more amusement. Scuttling across the square, I took one last look back – and admired all the ancient beauty surrounding this crazy city! Vive la Roma!
- When In Rome, Beware of Romans (godsavethescene.me)