I’m down to the holiday wire, sending this out on Christmas Eve, but as I race to finish the dusting (which I had about five months to accomplish) and Lino is wrangling the canoce (Squilla mantis) into pasta sauce and antipasto nibbles, I thought I would send a few Christmasy images from here.
Heartfelt best wishes to everyone for the end of 2020 and all of 2021.
Christmas fish-traps at the Rialto market. A festive sight for everybody, except the fish.There are so few gondolas to be seen in the canals — phalanxes of them have remained at their moorings for weeks on end — that this brave little red bow stood out like the brightest beacon of the holiday spirit.The good news was that it was probably the last day of school before the Christmas vacation. The bad news, obviously, was that it was so much earlier in the morning than he would have liked. Having his father nearby to haul his backpack clearly wasn’t enough.This was edgy — the bright sparks at Nevodi Pizzalab decided to create gifts-of-the-Magi pizza. They sound pretty good, but I’m uneasy that there may be something in the fine print of the catechism that would label this blasphemy. I just don’t know….. (Peperoni here are not spicy sausages, but bell peppers.)And speaking of the fish market, on Saturday there are also flowers there. It’s a little uncanny how she designed her shopping to complement her cart. Or vice versa.Sunrise always lifts my spirits, and I hope it does the same for yours. I have not done anything to the color here — this is how it was.
Mask-makers are impressive artisans, even though all their skill and talent are devoted to making something frivolous. Here is Mario Belloni at Ca’ Macana. Read more in my article about masks for “Craftsmanship Quarterly.”
Worthy causes abound, I’m happy to say, as we’ve discovered over the past few months.
Not to pick favorites (she said, picking a favorite), but there is a fundraising effort called “masquerAID” underway in Venice, organized by a group of Venetian mask-makers (mascareri) in order to raise funds for the purchase of surgical masks for the Red Cross volunteers. (Full disclosure: One of the organizers is a colleague and friend. But don’t let that sway you.)
Among the many things in its favor, it’s helping (A) health workers and (B) Venetian artisans. (B) is especially valuable, due to the now near-total lack of customers since the virus obliterated tourism.
Here’s the plan:
masquerAID
carnival masks for medical masks
Safeguard the artisanal production of traditional masks by donating medical masks to the Red Cross
MasquerAID – carnival masks for medical masks is a project of a nonprofit association funded by a group of Venetian professionals and friends to offer a contribution to the city of Venice in the wake of the COVID-19 crisis.
Venice relies almost entirely on tourism and in the ongoing global crisis, when all activities have been in lockdown, many small artisan workshops are facing the threat of permanent closure.
The concept of our initiative is to underwrite a selected group of mask makers by enabling them to continue to ply their trade and overcome the most critical phase of the emergency as tourism has come to a standstill. MasquerAID – carnival masks for medical masks will provide the selected artisans with an opportunity to make income for the next two months. At the same time, proceeds will fund the purchase of medical masks helping the volunteers of the Red Cross engaged in fighting the pandemic on the front line.
A precious exchange using the carnival mask, symbol of lightheartedness, joy and beauty while working towards the greater good of our community: supporting these treasured and unique artisans and at the same time helping the Red Cross.
If you love Venice as we do, and wish to contribute to preserving the most precious gems and the soul of this irreplaceable world heritage site, please give generously and receive as a token symbol of our gratitude a traditional mask that has been made by our local craftsmen.
There are three individual mask designs available according to the size of your donation. All three have been inspired by the original “medico della peste”, the famous mask medical doctors used to wear at the time of the black plague: the long beaks were in fact filled with medical spices as a form of protection from the disease. These three masks will be a symbolic icon we use to spread a positive message worldwide, while at the same time be our symbol of gratitude and appreciation to you for your help.
On the basis of Solidarity and Beauty, please support Venice, support the people who work here and support the recovery from the ongoing state of emergency.
Donate towards medical masks and receive our special Corona Doctor Mask!
DONATIONS LEVELS:
FOLLOWER: For a minimum contribution of 25 € you will receive our special gift of a handmade miniature of the plague doctor mask in leather
FRIEND: For a minimum contribution of 100 € you will receive an exquisite, small, handmade papier maché mask
SUPPORTER: For a minimum contribution of 200 € you will receive a beautifully crafted, life-sized handmade papier maché mask
BENEFACTOR: For donations of 500 € or more, you will receive a beautifully crafted, life-sized, handmade papier maché mask. In addition, your contribution will support and promote the work of all the artisans involved in the project.They will contact you and thank you personally.
* all proceeds go towards the purchase of medical masks and to the production of artisanal masks in equal terms
Even a small donation could help MasquerAID Maschere Per Mascherine reach their fundraising goal. And if you can’t make a donation, it would be great if you could share the fundraiser to help spread the word.
Made by Carlo Setti for a theatrical production and based on real people (not the one with pencils stuck into his cranium). Papier mache’ molds are made inside out — not something you learn in a day.Fantasy runs wild at Kartaruga, where Francesca Cecamore can make anything she can imagine, or that a customer asks for.
The restaurants lining via Garibaldi are opening up — at least as far as they can, which is summed up in a word: “Takeaway.” I hear that the coronavirus-adaptive procedures at restaurants here are essentially the same in the U.S. these days, but still thought I’d show how the local places, and a bar and a pastry shop, are starting to make do while awaiting the next directives on their future. A hint has already been released that restaurants and hair salons may be allowed to open before June 1, to universal rejoicing.
Here is a look at ViaGaribaldiWorld and environs at the moment, as seen through hungry eyes (those of the customer, as well as the proprietor).
Majer was the first shop I noticed that was starting to spread its commercial wings, so to speak. Once a small family bakery, it is now a local chain that sells bread, cookies, pastries, and some modest additions (small pizzas, soup, sandwiches) as well. The outside tables are always full in the summer, but obviously we can’t be waiting for the jeunesse doree’ to come back. I’m not a frequent customer — the space is awkward, the staff apathetic and disagreeable, the prices unreasonable even by Venice standards, but hey — after ten weeks of your own cooking, I could see the appeal.Mostly finger food is available, which is what you’d expect from basically a bakery. Bread, pizza (those would be small pizzas, the size of a flattened baseball), first courses (meaning pasta or rice, which can also be served cold), “salty cakes,” more like pies,that usually involve a crust and a cheese or other filling, and arancini, or fried spheres the size of unflattened baseballs made of compressed rice, sometimes with a filling.This is the sort of pizza (called “pizzette,” or little pizzas) I am referring to, although these aren’t from Majer, but from the window of “El Forner,” a bakery near campo San Giovanni e Bragora.“Take-Away” needs no translation, but they just want to make sure you’re not imagining you can have your sacred spritz at the bar. “Bar Service Closed.” Then the usual terms are listed: The opening hours and days, the requirement that only one person enter at a time, the wearing of mask and gloves.“Nevodi” is Venetian for “nipoti,” which means both “nephews” and “nieces” (the preposition tells you which it is) and also means “grandsons” and “granddaughters.” (Don’t blame me. Evidently the word-coining machine broke down and everyone decided just to make do with what they had.) Speaking of coining words, the yellow sign introduces a new one: “Nevodita’.” Interpreting the suffix in the usual way, it indicates “state of being of.” (“Venezianita’,” the quality or essence of Venetian-ness,) So they’ve created a word for the special state of being that their cuisine inspires.When Nevodi was preparing its transformation to takeaway, some explanation was in order. For several days before May 5, this helpful sign was posted at the door: “On Tuesday May 5 we’ll start takeaway,” they wrote in Italian. Then, in Venetian, they added: “Che saria el Porta Via” (che sarebbe il Portare Via) — “that would be take away”). The sign continues: “During the next few days I’ll explain to you how it works.”This is the procedure, here and at most of the other restaurants: “For reservations, please send a message with your order, the time and your name for pickup. Once you have received our confirmation, all you need to do is come by at the agreed time. For anyone who doesn’t use WhatsApp, you can telephone at both of the numbers on the little card here.” They have added a glamorous extra feature: “If you want to receive the daily menu via WhatsApp, send a message on WhatsApp to (number and name and surname). “Nevodi: Ready with the list of wines taped on the bar. There is a prohibition against drinking outside these establishments, so I don’t know how to interpret the bottles and glasses. But the barista is happy. “I’m smiling,” he said behind his mask. “I can tell,” I answered.People began to stop, and orders undoubtedly followed. Maybe they’re waiting to pick up the orders that they had already made. But I also saw people stopping in front of restaurants seemingly just to talk to each other, whether or not they were customers in the common sense. It would seem that places with food and drink magnetically draw people to each other. An industry expert said openly that one of the purposes of the takeaway phase isn’t just to try to scrape up money for the light bills (my phrasing), but to create and maintain links with their customers. Jump-start the instincts that send you out of the house in search of something different to nosh, an instinct that has been dormant far too long.Most places make it clear that you are not allowed to consume your purchase anywhere near the establishment. Outside Hopera the instinct to stand around with your drink is just too strong, but there would have been fines if any roaming policeman had seen this.
“Strani” bar has been offering delivery of kits for making your favorite aperitivi, neatly packaged in little glass flacons. Mojito, Caipirinha, Caipiroska, Americano, Negroni, Long Island, Sex on the Beach, can be yours starting at only 3 euros each, but the minimum order is 20 euros. (It’s not clear whether they include the ice or not.) They deliver anywhere in Castello, which is impressive, considering that Castello is the largest sestiere in Venice.Gelato is a special challenge for takeaway — it’s one thing for your hot food to arrive at your home cold, but it’s another for something cold…you see my point. It is absolutely forbidden to eat gelato, like any other food, on the street, so takeaway means employing special styrofoam boxes that manage to keep the gelato cold for a reasonable time. The Gelateria Crystal is offering the most basic, fundamental flavors AND home delivery (yes!).A gelateria at Sant’ Antonin makes the terms very clear. The chalkboard shows the hours, mentions gelato and crepes, and “DA PORTARE VIA!” (to take away).“Just Take Away — Only takeaway boxes. No cones, no cups. Please maintain the security distance and use the protective devices stipulated by the current regulations in force.” Impressive, as long as you know what those are. Do we have a failed law student here? The same amount of time and energy, and perhaps even individual letters, could have produced the much simpler and more common “wear mask and gloves.”The Bar/pastry shop Chiusso, in Salizzada dei Greci, has managed to keep going by selling some of its products in the fresh-pasta-and-expensive-condiments shop on the other side of the street. They’ve used a few other stratagems too, such as home delivery. They have a clientele (including us) that would require an hour on the rack to reach the point of renouncing their pastries.They too are now surviving on takeaway business, as per the sign: “From Monday May 4 the shop will be open from 9:00 AM to 2:00 PM for your order pickups.” The sign above it is also reassuring: “Seeing the appreciation that you have shown us we have decided to continue with home delivery of the products you can order by calling 333-236-9322. Heartfelt thanks.” (That would be “Grazie di cuore,” with the heart symbol. Sweet.)The Trattoria alla Rampa is getting ready to start takeaway. The signs on their window, from left to right, are: The standard list of conditions issued by the Venetian association of public services. Then the set menus, which I will let you practice your Italian in translating. The third sign states: “We advise our valued customers that the takeaway menu will be offered starting May 11. We ask that you book your meals at this phone number 041-528-5365. We ask that you book on the preceding day from 9:00 AM to 3:00 PM. From Monday to Saturday. On Friday and Saturday you can book for Monday. Thank you for your kind attention.”These are the rules as laid out by the Venetian Association of Public Services: “Selling for takeaway: Only via booking. Phone, or write us a message on WhatsApp, or email. Agree on the time to come pick up your order. Wait your turn respecting the distance of one meter. Enter one person at a time, maximum. Always wear mask and gloves. Eat at home or in the office what you’ve bought.”Notice to our Clients: To guarantee a rapid and safe takeaway service: Respect the distance of interpersonal security of at least one meter. Use the mask inside the restaurant. It is not permitted to consume the takeaway products inside or outside the restaurant. As soon as you’ve concluded your transaction (i.e., got your order in your hands), we invite you not to stop near the restaurant.” That’s a rule in general, but it has survival connotations here, because the trattoria is in front of the fruit and vegetable boat, where people have already accumulated, on a stretch of fondamenta that accommodates the fish market and the wine shop. As everywhere, customers, and their dogs and children, are lined up outside awaiting their “one person maximum” moment to enter, which would leave exactly zero space for standing around eating. There’s barely space to get through the scrum as it is. However, I predict that the broad balustrade at the end of the canal will be everybody’s go-to table. At least until the vigili show up.I rest my case. On the balustrade. I predict that this will become a table in five seconds.On this morning’s walk, I saw something I haven’t seen since quarantine began: Trash — specifically, the enticing, fragrant, food-related trash that seagulls cannot resist. Conclusion: Not everybody who takes food away brings it all the way home. I don’t know where they’re eating it, but this is where the remains are being disposed of. It may be a shock to the garbage collectors, who essentially had nothing to do on this fondamenta for two months.
I know people have to get back to work, but I’m really going to miss seeing the water like this.This is one of very, very few boats that have broken the water in our canal during quarantine. It enters the canal with tremendous roaring, and in reverse (because of possible difficulties in turning around? Simple laziness?). I’m going to hope that a boat this size started out carrying more than a mere five or six crates of bread. Considering that these are destined for the Coop supermarket just up the street, it’s possible it has delivered bread to other Coop’s around the city. Still, every time I hear it pass I realize how unaccustomed I’ve become to the sound of motorboats, and how much I really hate it. But it’s the sound of work, and that’s a great thing.
This morning was glorious, as so many mornings have been over the past two months; the shining sun and gleaming water and tranquil atmosphere — perhaps too tranquil, but that’s for another discussion — made our daily dawn walk something lovely.
We started these walks on Monday, March 9, the first morning of lockdown, sensing that we had to keep moving somehow if we were going to be housebound essentially 24 hours a day (legal escape hatch: the supermarket run). Sneaking out under what was then the barely brightening sky, I felt like we were doing something extremely daring.
A few other people were also out, running, or walking purposefully, with or without a dog. We avoided each other, we pretended we didn’t see anyone. Everyone seemed to be operating under the Cone of Silence.
So: At 6:30 AM it’s on with the mask and gloves and out we go. Then nine times over the bridge outside our house (the tenth would be on the return trip). This was Lino’s idea, and it was a good one. Next, we walk up to the end of via Garibaldi, turn left, and walk along the lagoon-front (at 6:50 AM we pass the Giardini vaporetto stop), down to land’s end at Sant’ Elena all the way to the Morosini Naval School.
We get the Gazzettino at the newsstand at the Sant’ Elena vaporetto stop and retrace our steps toward the Giardini dock, which we pass at 7:20. We proceed all the way to the top of via Garibaldi, then home. A stop at the fruit and vegetable boat may be in order (beat the crowds), then home by 7:40. This adds up to 2.8 miles, if anybody cares.
After two months of this, we have come to recognize a number of people. Not that we KNOW them, we just know that at that point there will be the two heavyset women and one heavyset man, evidently relatives or friends (or both), walking a nondescript dog. There’s the man with his black and white English setter and the catapult-thing that throws the ball amazingly far. At the brick bridge we will encounter Barbara, owner of the bar/cafe “Vecia Gina” where we love to sit outside under a big umbrella in the summer, drinking and munching and cooling off.
Sometimes by the bridge by the viale Garibaldi we’ll run into Ennio, whom Lino has known forever and I somewhat less than that — he used to belong to our boat club. There might be Bepi “Stella” out walking his old black dog. And so it’s a mix of people we know and people we think we know by now, though I recognize them more by their clothes than their faces — logical, considering that almost everybody’s masked. Lino sometimes whispers “Who was that?” even when somebody has just said “Ciao, Lino.”
Guess it won’t be looking like this anymore. I realize that more boats will mean more people are working, and of course that’s what we want. But we were living for years at the other extreme, and these past eight weeks have helped me forget how often the waves were so high from passing motorboats that the vaporetto dock would leap and plunge and people (on the dock, as well as on the hapless vaporetto trying to tie up) would hold on to each other to not fall down. Not made up. I wonder if there’s any conceivable middle ground on this.
This afternoon there were many more people out strolling than ever before, and clumps of kids of various ages yelling in various ways. Some people clearly were not from around here, but they weren’t foreigners, just Venetians from other parts of the city. The new regulation says that you can go visit relatives (but not unrelated friends), so I suppose these were social visits to random family members.
But we also saw three Carabinieri walking around, two policemen (Polizia di Stato) in the Quintavalle canal on their jet skis, and not long afterward a regular police motorboat pulled up and three officers crossed the bridge and disappeared, evidently in search of someone or thing. We both had the feeling that they want us all to know that it’s not party time yet; we all have been warned in a thousand ways that we must, MUST continue with masks and gloves and distancing. Even the Prime Minister has implored everyone not to act like everything’s fine, because it’s not. He has also repeated that if infections begin to increase, we are all going to be back where we started, only worse. He didn’t actually say that we’d be locked inside our houses, but it didn’t sound good.
Tomorrow people will start to go back to work. We will take our walk, but I think it will be different. It won’t be a secret thing among just us anymore.
If I weren’t already a morning person, living here would make me one.Wish my hair would do this.Another early shopper at the fruit and vegetable boat.This is one of the best moments in the entire year — fresh peas, the first artichokes from Sant’ Erasmo…..… and asparagus from up near Treviso. The thicker stalks are eaten with hard-boiled eggs, the slimmer stalks are destined for risotto.I won’t ever be seeing this again. Probably every boat in this picture is raring to go.
