A Feminist Vigil and Easter Chili

On this Maundy Thursday, we abided by the Roman tradition of visiting a minimum of 7 churches open late in the evening.  We intended to repeat - but with a twist - this evocation of the vigil held by Christ and his disciples after the Last Supper. 

The twist was to make it a feminist-oriented tour, thereby seeking out only the churches that were dedicated to female saints. 

Granted, we made this decision as we were walking to the first church we intended to visit, so we did not craft a good plan.

We started off into the night. I was utterly exhausted from the work week, but was determined.

And we quickly surmised that this was more difficult than we anticipated.

I haven't researched the statistics on this, but I'm guessing that there are fewer churches dedicated to women in general, even if there are many 'Saint Mary of the (fill in the blank)' and 'Our Lady of (fill in the blank)' churches. 

With only a few exceptions, the churches dedicated to women are smaller in size. 

Take, for instance the dainty St. Brigid.  The lit chapel was so crowded and so intimate that I couldn't bring myself to shoot a picture inside.

Saint Brigid's stained glass window, behind which the devout prayed in a small but beautiful chapel

The other problem we quickly encountered was that fewer of those churches were open on Maundy Thursday.  We thought that they ALL were. 

Alas, this was not true.

So, the tiny St. Barbara church wasn't open. 

Santa Maria dell'Orazione e Morte (St. Mary of the Eulogies and the Dead) was also closed.

Santa Maria dell Pace - also closed. 

We became concerned that this jaunt - as planned - wasn't possible.

But....we persisted.

Our Lady of the Sacred Heart

We wanted to think of this experience as something we were doing only with Romans.  But wherever there are possibilities to contrive a touristy gig, you can bet that someone will do it here.  And so, we encountered people with bullhorns conducting group prayers in select squares. Others had little typed booklets that outlined a select walking tour of 7 churches. Alongside the people who came to pray were people busily reading about the spaces they were in. It was sometimes distracting.

The Spouse, lighting a candle in Sant'Agnese in Agone

Once inside, it was sometimes a little easier to forget the tourists.  But the churches themselves had not forgotten them.  

Santa Maria dell'Anima (a German hall church - a bit unusual here), with a draped image of the crucified Christ.

Santa Maria in Valicella

In a large space like Santa Maria sopra Minerva, the whole center and left aisles were roped off.  You could only walk down the singularly lit right aisle to the chapel.

Santa Maria Sopra Minerva

 Other churches posted signage to remind everyone to be quiet, to be prayerful...to not even enter if you were merely 'on tour.' 

Santa Maria Maddalena

And so, with some degree of struggle, we managed to complete our visits of 7 churches. We zigged and zagged all over neighboring streets to do it, often traversing the same ground more than once. I logged over 13,500 steps that day and evening. 

I think I slipped into a coma that night.

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An Italian colleague says here, quite bluntly, that if it's an Italian holiday, you eat. 

It's just what you do. 

You might take a walk afterwards.  You might play some games with family members.

But first and foremost, you eat.

The women in your family start cooking days beforehand.

So I've been trying to pay attention to some of the customary treats of the season.

Here is the colomba - a cake made with almonds and dried orange peel - baked in the shape of a dove.

And here is casatiello - a savory bread baked with sausage, mortadella, cheese and black pepper inside.  Often centered with a hardboiled egg.

This Easter morning, we toasted some of this to go with our mushroom, onion, asparagus and truffled pecorino omelette.

Chocolate eggs are a thing here, too.  So are little hollow chocolate lambs and chickens and bunnies.

But what am I making for Easter dinner? 

Chili. 

Truth:  we love Italian food, but we yearn for variety.

And in some ways, this dish celebrates a lot of things that are important to us and have become a fixture of being here for 19th months:

The dried ancho chilis and garlic powder were 'muled' here by friends and family who paid visits (and no, I can't explain why I can't buy garlic powder here). Thank goodness other people understand our need for heat in some cuisines.

Those chilis (and the spices, onions, garlic and tomatoes) were ground in a food processor I bought from an American who was moving stateside just as we moved here. An early community benefit.

The beef came from a macelleria where I accomplished the order, the payment and the 'Buona Pasqua' salutation as I left - all in Italian that felt natural. A late community development.

The dried pinto beans are a humble staple - from my kind of community, since I was small.

And why not, on Easter, have all of these things 'reborn' as comfort food?

Happy Easter, friends. 

May you have food, community, fun and some down time.