Maybe I'm a terrible person. Maybe I don't know what I've got 'til it's gone. Or maybe it's that my single foray into musical instruments was a disaster (I ask you to envision fifth-grader + saxophone + Mary Had a Little Lamb.) But I have to admit... I am one of only two people in the world who've visited Cremona and not seen a Stradavarius.
On the subject I can say that I now know the violin master's name was Stradavari and that the word Stradavarius is an adjective; as in "created by a man named Stradavari." There are several places in his hometown of Cremona where you can spend time doting on his glorious violin creations. Or... and here's where I veer off of tourism's well-worn path... you can spend the musuem entry fees on torrone instead.
Torrone. That magical bar of nougat wrapped in rice paper and studded with almonds. It comes tenero (soft) or friabile (hard) and either way it's a lyrical combination of honey and crunch. And a challenge. If you know an easy way to eat a bar of torrone -- an easy way to bite off a chunk without losing a molar -- you let me know. Cremona claims the honor of being the birthplace of this little beauty and there are ample offerings around town, thus ample opportunity to gum a bar until you give up and just take a perilous bite.
A flower market had taken over the main piazza on Saturday and the open space at the foot of the Duomo was overflowing with buckets and crates of vivid flowers, with people wandering in and out of the bunches. There were wicker bicycle-baskets filled with tulips and dogs sniffing each other on the church steps. Grandparents led their grandchildren by the hand thorough the morning crowds.
After a pair of cappucinos at the busiest bar we could find it was 502 steps to the top of Europe's tallest bell tower. We both were happily surprised by the ease of the climb, especially Stefano who'd engaged in a vigorous bout of flag football only a few days before. The 502 steps breezed by, with the view growing incrementally smaller, until we reached the spiral staircases. First there was a stone spiral stairway which simply resulted in feeling as if we were going nowhere despite continuing to step up. Then came the metal spiral staircase rising to the absolute top level of the tower. It was something like eight or nine swirls above a stone floor... eight or nine swirls in a big open space going up, up, up. It wasn't my favorite thing to do in the world but it brought us to a heck-of-a view.
When we were back down on the ground - and let me tell you, spiral staircases are even less fun going down - we headed to the Baptistry and the Duomo. The Baptistry was surprisingly large, with light coming in from the ceiling as it does in the Pantheon. The Duomo was closing - who knew prayer pauses for lunch - but we did get to see enough to appreciate it. (And we'll let you in on a little secret - the vestaments and fabrics at the alter are only wrinkle-free because a dedicated individual rushes back from lunch to iron them. We saw this when we returned post-lunch for another view.)
Lunch in Cremona was nothing short of excellent. Truly. We went to Hosteria 700 (Piazza Gallina 1) and Stefano ordered what must be the finest plate of risotto in all the world. Truffle Cream Risotto with Smoked Goose Breast salami, simply stunning. The heady aroma of truffles was woven into the creamy risotto, with the savory smoke of goose salami giving a sharp jab to the velvet smooth. The antipasto we'd ordered (also at the behest of Stefano) was really different - a strong provolone accompanied by a gentle pumpkin marmalade. Pumpkin marmalade? Oh yes... Marvelous and bordering on sweet; perfect at the edge of a witty cheese like provolone. This restaurant was previously a villa and diners are peppered throughout three different dining rooms - each more charming than the next. Definitely two thumbs up. Although I do take issue with the fact that women order from menus with a pink ribbon and while men order from menus with a blue ribbon. The only other difference? Only the male version has the prices. Quaint, no?
We spent a small portion of our day eating pastries along the piazza while a little girl battled with a cone of gelato a few feet away. The softness of gelato doesn't seem to be as conducive to disaster as the American-style ice cream scoop - you rarely see a crying kid standing over a fallen scoop of gelato. More often than not the kids just keep smashing the gelato down with their face until there's none left or Mom/Dad interject with a mini plastic spoon in order to help.
Cremona is a nice place. It has nice pastries (albeit the ones I picked at random were for the most part soaked in liquor; could be a personal problem), nice torrone, nice flowers and nice towers.
I hear it has nice violins too. But don't ask me, I haven't seen them. And don't ask Stefano either. He's the only other person who's been to Cremona without visiting the violins. Such heathens we are.
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