It’s mid-afternoon in Rome, and we’re standing in a narrow cobbled street near Malafemmena Restaurant. Piero, the owner, sees us and calls out, “Mr. Jack! Buon giorno! Vieni qua! You come! Sit! Please… I bring you a Limoncello.” Piero, in his too-small rumpled suit, is just clearing his last lunch table and wants us to sit down with him. He’s craving a cigarette and conversation. Via Vittoria is shady, cool and quiet. Three blocks away the Piazza di Spagna is hot and noisy.

Malafemmena is Piero’s restaurant. The name carries a double meaning. The direct translation is “sinful woman.” I ask him why an upscale restaurant in the city’s most exclusive neighborhood bears such a questionable name. He tells me that it’s also the name of a famous Neapolitan song written by a actor about his estranged wife. The explanation seems very Italian. read more