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Fed up with my seemingly unsolvable economics homework, annoyed by the surmounting stress of midterm exams, and exhausted by the incessant onslaught of coffee chats and extracurricular meetings, I turned to my friend and said, “I could literally be in Italy right now.”
When entrenched in school, it is easy to fall into the feeling that nothing could ever be more important than that quiz you have on Friday. But the Harvard ecosystem walks a fine line between fully immersing us in our studies and entirely overwhelming us to the point of giving up. It is at that particular moment, when the school year oversteps its bounds of reason, that you are hit with the solid truth that you could pick up, right now, and travel anywhere. This is precisely the reason I found myself studying abroad in Florence last semester.
But what do you do after you’ve exercised the study abroad card? What do you do when you are faced with yet another seemingly insurmountable semester, and you can no longer run away to Italy at any minor convenience? Although less potent a fix, you can daydream. It is certainly a plausible short-term solution. I invite readers to put down their problem sets and ignore their readings to join me here for just a few minutes on my momentary, mid-semester Italian daydream.
If we were in Firenze right now, as the Italians say, we would likely be finding our way towards Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio, a food market located in the heart of Florence, Italy. While Mercato Centrale may have more hits on TikTok, Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio is a better choice — by far — in almost any circumstance. On this day, I would want to catch a bite to eat without getting myself all worked up about the growing tourist population in almost every town in Italy — so, to Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio we would go.
To eat, we would request the ultimate girl dinner — ricotta, salami, un tomino alla boscaiola, parmigiano, fresh green olives, and some sort of prosciutto variant. As I place our orders in Italian, the guy at the counter would bag up our goodies and check us out for less than 20 euros in total. I would pay in cash and direct us toward the convenience store around the corner, where we could pick up a cheap bottle of wine.
We would next navigate towards Piazza dei Ciompi, my favorite piazza in the whole city. There is also a phenomenal bakery in this square called Il Forno dei Ciompi, and I swear it has the best bread in all of Florence — even though Tuscany isn’t exactly known for bread. I would recommend their schiacciata to accompany our picnic. We would find a place to sit along the iconic portico in the piazza, and the chilly marble and stone floor of the portico would feel refreshing — even on a hot morning or afternoon, it remains cool to the touch. If you’re like me, you would tear into my backpack and immediately relinquish our goodies, arranging our finds across unwrapped deli papers.
The wine would taste sweet, the olives would taste like the sea of Liguria, the cheese would taste like the earth, and the prosciutto would leave a nutty taste in your mouth. There isn’t a better tagliere misto that we could purchase in a restaurant for less than 20 euros. As we slow down in our feast, we would lean our heads against one of the comfortingly solid pillars and take in the scene of local Florentines going about their day. This is the ideal place to read, write, draw, or even drink, if the night calls for it.
While a trip to Eataly in Boston’s Prudential Center would be a poor imitation of this meal, I also recognize that not everyone can fly to Florence in the middle of the school year to visit a deli. If Boston blesses us with a sunny day in the upcoming weeks, I encourage you to venture into the North End in search of Bricco Salumeria and Pasta Shop’s gastronomic delights. Their sandwiches are a go-to of mine when I am missing the paninis of Tuscany, and the nearby Rose Kennedy Greenway or Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park are both adequate substitutes for an idyllic portico.
But what would we read in Italy? A pretentious guest might choose Dante’s “Inferno” — and as an English major and Italian speaker, who am I to dissuade you from selecting this language-defining classic? But let us not forget: We aren’t in Harvard Square anymore. No pressure to make a particularly cerebral selection. I would recommend “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert. The fantastic thing about this choice is that it is a book you can start in Italy, but have no pressure to finish in Italy, in case we become distracted by some other facet of Italian magic during our trip. Another favorite, and one I myself read during my semester abroad, would be “A Certain Hunger” by Chelsea G. Summers — a deliciously terrifying fast-read, although perhaps one better to enjoy after you have already finished your prosciutto. The good news is that any of these reads can be equally indulged in from the comfort of one’s dorm.
After our lunch, I would likely recommend a change of scenery. Intentionally walking through Piazza di Santa Croce to catch a glimpse of my favorite Florentine chiesa, we would cross the Arno River and head toward the grounds of Boboli Gardens. Of all the tickets to purchase in the city that grant access to the various wonders of Florence, the ticket to Boboli Gardens is the most worth it.
The Boboli Gardens, located behind the Pitti Palace, boast a rich history dating back to the 16th century, when they were commissioned by the Medici family to serve as a prime example of Renaissance garden design. The gardens offer neverending fields of green interspersed with wildflowers and one of the best views you can find of the Duomo. We would find a place on the grass and simply bask in the sun. There is no such thing as “Too Much Tuscan Sun” within the walls of Boboli Gardens, secondo me. We’d curl up in the blades of grass and inhale the organic aroma of fresh pollen and the intoxicating floral undertones of the Florentine scent profile.
For the more creative reader, might I suggest the Fenway Victory Gardens as a potential replacement? Even closer to campus, the Sunken Garden in Radcliffe Yard is my favorite spot to lay on the grass and enjoy the changing fall leaves during this time of year. While any local alternative I could suggest will no doubt pale in comparison to the magic of Boboli, one thankfully does not need to stretch the imagination too far to find a charming green space full of flowers in our city.
When we tire of sunbathing — or rather, wake up from our unavoidable nap — I would recommend that we stumble our way out of the gardens and into Sbrino Gelato at Via dei Serragli, 32r. This is the best gelato in the city — trust me. I’d order the “bruscolini” (pumpkin seeds) flavor.
Next, we could head toward the Uffizi Gallery. If you want to see the David, I am afraid you would have to return to Florence with a different guide. While I have loved inspecting the failed “Slaves” who accompany Michelangelo’s masterpiece, I have traversed the crowds of Galleria dell’ Accademia di Firenze hungover one too many times for yet another trip to the museum to be enticing.
At the Uffizi Gallery, I would probably fan-girl over Botticelli’s “Primavera” — one of my all-time favorites — and provide an in-depth tour of my favorite pieces for my esteemed guest. You’d receive a detailed history of “Judith Beheading Holofernes” by Artemisia Gentileschi, and we could spend hours just looking at the ceilings of the building.
While more atmospherically modern than the Uffizi, the Harvard Art Museums are just as good of a place to lose track of time in. When you inevitably reach your “I could literally be in Italy right now” realization, the Fogg Museum should be the first stop on your itinerary to recovery. With some Renaissance and modern art alike, with free admission for all, the Harvard Art Museums are an underrated campus resource to tap into your dreams of Europe.
As dusk settles over the Florentine skyline, we would beeline to my favorite enoteca, Vineria Sonora. When we arrive, we would notice immediately the music wafting into our ears, intoxicating us with the shop’s unbeatable atmosphere of the place. The ethereal whispers of “Ma quale idea” and “Last night the DJ saved my life” emanating from the old-school vinyl turntable at the bar would immediately relax us into a trance. As we sat down at my favorite spot right near the door, my favorite waitress would probably be lighting the candles at each of the tables and would wave hello to us. I would order the toasted whole grain bread with olives, tartare, and a bottle of orange wine to wash down the music. By the time the clock strikes 8 o’clock, the single white room would come alive with candlelit conversation, and we would close our eyes, munching on breadsticks as we absorbed our day. We would finish with a tenerina cioccolata and dessert wine pairing. In that moment, we would undoubtedly sink into the genius loci of Florence.
Kate E. Ravenscroft is a Harvard College junior, double concentrating in English and Economics and a Staff Writer for the Crimson Arts Board. She is the creator of the “Genius Loci” column, where she writes about embracing the spirit of places both near and far through art. She can be reached at kate.ravenscroft@thecrimson.com.
