Many many thanks and compliments to l'bogo and Eulalia, who do all the work!
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Vio’s place is on the opposite side of Mestre. I climb the stairs with trepidation, the memories come back to me of that dreadful night when I went to recover the suit to dress my love for his final journey. Everything is in good order, with a nice clean smell. The maid who has been to tidy up the apartment has left the suitcases in the cupboard., I go down immediately, closing the door.
It takes only ten minutes by car to get to the Piazzale Roma. I glimpse before me images of that last trip with Vio. I look for the grey heron probing the muddy bottom with his long beak in search of shellfish, he too is gone. I’m trying to dispel my fears. I need now somebody close, an arm around my shoulders to protect me.
We must make haste, the water is already lapping the stones on the quays, it will soon rise, for this evening and tomorrow high water is expected, exceptionally high tides, almost half the city will be flooded. They will be magical evenings, when, from a Piazza San Marco invaded by the waters of the Lagoon, the illuminated Basilica will emerge, and will be reflected on the liquid surface as in a mirror, creating a surreal world, enchanted, magical as in a fairy tale. We decide to dine together at the GastrOsteria del Gambero Rosso, which overlooks the Calle Larga dell'Ascensione behind the building of the Correr Museum, near the passage between Piazza San Marco and the Bocca di Piazza.
I am curious to try the fruits of the metamorphosis of this restaurant into a ‘gastrosteria’, claiming to offer a superior gastronomy that, in a moment of crisis, has been refreshed and renewed by encountering the new and intriguing philosophy of 'bistronomie', born in neighbouring France. The two cultures merge together in the person-centred, holistic approach of ‘GastrOsteria’, which brings with it a well-crafted blend of a welcoming atmosphere, a relaxed ambience, creative seasonal cuisine and, not least, suiting everyone’s pocket.
A secluded table for two, a graceful candlebra gently illuminates the quietest corner of the restaurant.
Today they are offering 'La Cucina del Senza', a ‘free-from’ menu without fat, salt or sugar:
Antipasti
Warm carpaccio of lamb (thinly sliced, raw), fresh chicory and coffee caramel
- Franciacorta Noble Rosé
Primo piatto
Wholewheat flour tortelli stuffed with cream of ricotta, spinach and hazelnuts
- Chardonnay Trevigiano 2016
Secondo piatto
Salmon, lightly seared, on a fondue of crunchy endive, robiola cheese and minced anchovies
- Grillo Bianco 2014
Dessert
To begin with, black and white chocolate, then raspberries and cereal in a delicate mint jelly
- Bianco di Quistello “Dolce del Vicariato”
The wines are served by the glass, without having to buy whole bottles, a brilliant way to savour regional specialties without causing damage to one’s purse.
The clientele is refined, couples no longer newly-wed, needing to strengthening ties that have worn a little loose. La proprietaria, who is also a chef, pampers us with her courteous, amicable greeting, proclaiming to us the merits of her delights, waiting patiently for our judgment on every bite and every sip, suggesting food for thought. We are in no hurry, the night is all for us. And so is tomorrow.
Good prospects for spending a peaceful night's sleep disappear when darkness comes. During the day a thousand creative activities make the hours flow smoothly, there is never enough time, always something to be done that is still in the air... but then, with the darkness, all my confidence crumbles...
I become more and more restless as the hands of the clock edge forward and the fateful time of night approaches. Fear of falling asleep, and of losing my ability to control the situation, fear of not being able to escape from the fear, of not being able to defend myself, I'm so young... my gloom is turning into pain...
The reassurance of those around me, trying to convince me that my fears are just imaginary, is no help, neither hugs nor caresses nor kisses can lift me from the state of deep depression into which I’m plunged all the time. Each time I close my eyes, the terror leaps powerfully upon me, and then my tears fall unbidden, first silently and then gradually in a crescendo that leads to uninterrupted crying, with shuddering and sobbing. This is how my insomnia begins. I'm a girl scared of life...
Only the first light of dawn can bring a little warmth into my chilly night. My wide-open eyes catch a glimpse of that light, and hope is reborn. I can do nothing but let the night-fears grow - that fear seems to me to be well-founded - I should never have fallen asleep, I should never have believed the promises, I should never have trusted them. I closed my eyes and now I'll have to deal with my insomnia forever...
I always wake up at dawn, it's still dark outside, the street lamps faintly illuminate the deserted streets, outside is silence, everything seems quiet. Every time day dawns, I look for my pillow to hug to my chest, to stifle my sobbing.
Today it's the start of spring, but the trees have flowers of ice, as if the climate has decided to change its course. Even in me, a metamorphosis is ever more apparent: like from a chrysalis to a butterfly, not just in my outer shell, but deep within. I’m pregnant with my character, Giulietta is being born in me, it’s as if Madame Chloé had impregnated me – but really, Giulietta is taking over my body and my soul, overwhelmingly, bringing a transfiguration. Madame Chloé has explained to me that Giulietta was not an innocent maiden but an intense and passionate woman, and that in her desire for Romeo there was nothing adolescent. For me it is epoch-making, they call it an axial era, when the alignment of the universe and of history bends, it cracks, both inside and outside us.