Pasta, wine and Jews: My trip to Italy

I don’t know what you like to do on holidays, but you can probably guess my priorities: to eat, to walk, to seek out iconic food experiences. I often try to find a Jewish connection wherever I go – the food of the Lower East Side in NYC, the “Shanghai Ghetto” in China, the Museum of Jewish History in Girona, Spain. 

I’ve just returned from Italy. The Italy I love so much: the people, the food, the culture, the art, the streets, the vibe. Did I mention the food?

I started this trip feeling more sensitive than usual. More sensitive as a Jew, more sensitive as an out and proud Zionist. I wore my ‘I’m that Jew’ cap, my ‘bring them home’ dog tag, and my yellow hostage pin pretty much everywhere I went.

I vigilantly looked for signs of virulent anti-Zionists or keffiyeh-wearing pro-Palestinian protestors; those who seem to care nothing for the Palestinians but hold everything against Israelis and Jews. I was hyper-aware at the airports, on the planes, on the ferries, everywhere I went. It’s an odd way to be, on a holiday.

First stop, Rome. A little bit excited about exceptional tonnarelli (a hand made fresh pasta) cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper), bolognese suppli (giant fried stuffed risotto ball) and my favourite, sfogliatelle (a shell-shaped pastry that resembles stacked leaves with custard).

On this particular trip I found myself drawn to different things. I felt compelled to re-visit the Arch of Titus. This is no ordinary ancient arch. It celebrates the Romans’ conquest of Judea and destruction of the Second (Jewish) Temple in 70 CE. Scenes from the conquest are easy to depict, including the booty taken from Jerusalem with the candelabra from the Temple and the procession of the defeated Jews.