I passed Trattoria dell’Orso shortly after noon on Sunday. All the outside tables were full, and Stefano, the proprietor, seemed relieved and content to be in his element.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAre you open again?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe’re open today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlso this evening?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAlso this evening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShould I make a reservation?\u201d I asked, pretending for a moment that everything had already returned to normal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you like.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay,\u201d I paused to savor the moment. \u201cFor tonight, one at eight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOutdoor table?\u201d
\u201cSure, that would be great \u2013 if you have one free.\u201d It felt so good to imagine normality that I couldn’t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCertainly. See you tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a measure of how special that exchange was, I entered the reservation in my calendar and set an alarm, like it was a date or an occasion that I couldn’t afford to miss. The appointment glowed violet and singular in the vast white near-emptiness of the previous week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I returned punctually at eight and waited to be shown to my table. There were the same four tables in place, one occupied by the very nice couple who own the light bulb store. We nodded. Stefano soon appeared and gestured to all the tables, suggesting they were equally available. I hesitated, not wishing to steal a prime location he might be saving for a special customer. He took the hint, and sat me next to the couple. A new, shorter, laminated menu was presented. The same soup as the other Stefano at Vincaff\u00e8 had prepared the previous two suppers was on offer (but with truffle) and I asked about a dish called\u00a0Tortelacci degli spinacci<\/em>. The lady at the next table assured me that it was a sound choice, she had just had them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While I waited, the couple next table conversed with each other, with almost everyone who passed, and with several others long distance in the nearby parking area at Piazza Vitrozzi. I became keenly aware of how local everything still was \u2013 no one from outside the region, few from outside of town. I had a sudden urge to have a party of friends from all over to fill the restaurant, not to destroy the localness of the hour (although it would have) but to share in its specialness. I checked my phone, and alas teleportation had not yet been invented.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n The soup arrived. It was quite different from the other Stefano’s interpretation, and also delicious. Bread followed just in time, wrapped in a paper bag. On clearing the soup, Stefano informed me that he is required to keep my full name and phone number on file for fourteen days for reasons of contact tracing. Our little world of pretend took a list to the left. The\u00a0tortelacci<\/em>\u00a0arrived, were excellent, and I made signs of agreeable satisfaction towards the lady at the next table — which she missed. They left while I waited for dessert (torta di mela<\/em>) and bid me good evening as if we had been engaged in lively conversation throughout.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When Stefano returned with the cake, I asked him how his experience of lockdown was. I didn’t get all the details, so some times, places, and relationships may be wrong, but this is basically what he told me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe have a little country house out near Corbara, and I didn’t leave it once for all of March until two weeks ago. I had a bout of pneumonia this winter, so even before the lockdown was official, my doctor told me to sequester myself, that it was too risky to associate. I didn’t see another face for more than two months. Forget coming into Orvieto, it was as if the community had vanished, very difficult. My daughter did all the shopping. She would come into the house while I was in another room, undress, shower, change clothes, wash and dry everything she bought, and leave it on the table. We called to each other, but never were in the same room. It was once a week like this. When no one was around, I could go into the garden, but only when I was absolutely alone. The doctor told me there was too little known about the virus and my health was too compromised to take chances.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cBut you’re healthy now.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI am, so it was worth it. And I am so happy to be here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The tables had all been altered to be a meter square, set appropriately apart, and we diners wore masks until the first sip of water. Otherwise, it was like nothing had changed \u2013 the meal was superb.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I passed Trattoria dell’Orso shortly after noon on Sunday. All the outside tables were full, and Stefano, the proprietor, seemed relieved and content to be in his element. \u201cAre you open again?\u201d \u201cWe’re open today.\u201d \u201cAlso this evening?\u201d \u201cAlso this evening.\u201d \u201cShould I make a reservation?\u201d I asked, pretending for a moment that everything had … Continue reading La Pausa – May 25<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1844,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[7],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1839"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1839"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1839\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1854,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1839\/revisions\/1854"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1844"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1839"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1839"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1839"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}