Pizza in Piazza

Pizza in Piazza- Civita di Bagnoregio, Summer 2009

One summer evening in Civita as I was crossing the central piazza after dinner, I noticed a knot of Civita residents on the steps of the church of San Donato, including Professor Medori, his two grown daughters, his niece Ivana, and Roseanna.  As I approached them they turned to me as a group  and said there was going to be pizza in the piazza the following evening centered around another presentation of the slide show Lauris Bitners and I had given the week before, consisting of photos of Civita taken when we were participating in the UW Italian Hilltowns program in 1976, 1979, and 1980. I thought I had misunderstood them.  I did not remember anything about a slide show scheduled for the following day, but perhaps my husband Lauris had forgotten to tell me. They said, in fact, that they had not spoken to Lauris but that it was an impromptu event.

They had been busy organizing it just moments before as they sat on the church steps.  The plans so far included setting up tables in the Piazza San Donato and firing up one of the communal street ovens in the adjacent street to make pizza.  I told them that this would be wonderful, but that we needed a screen to show the slides in the piazza.  I was a little overwhelmed as I thought of the high quality theatre and music performances that had been staged over the summer in the piazza. For our earlier slide show Lauris had rigged up a bed sheet on the wall outside the studio with fishing wire and Tony's bamboo garden poles.  I told them that Rafaello from the restaurant Il Forno was trying to get a hold of a freestanding portable screen from his cousin in Viterbo for the upcoming slide show we were planning at the restaurant, but he had been so busy with the tourist season that he had not had time to drive to Viterbo.  They replied that they would take care of the screen, even if it was a bed sheet.  We were told to expect the pizza to be ready the next evening at about 7:30 with the slide show to follow as soon as it was dark.

The next day I walked over tho the oven several times throughout the afternoon and all was quiet on the small dead-end backstreet.  As afternoon faded to evening, Alessio called me into his house through an open door to see the preparation of the pizza dough and sauce by a team of Juliana, Alessio, Professor Medori's daughters, and others who joined in the preparations. We then wandered down the street to see if the oven was ready. The wood fire was blazing and the smoke poured from the mouth of the oven as many lively opinions from various cooks and bystanders fueled the activity.  As the embers formed, preparation began to start cooking the pizza, fired with many lively opinions from variouscooks and bystanders on the correct techniques for its use. 

At last the oven was declared ready and the ashes were swept from the floor of the oven with a broom made with rosemary branches. A revolving squadron of cooks, working on tables set up adjacent to the oven in the now crowded  dead end  street, rolled out the pizza dough and added the tomato sauce, mozzarella, and basil. During  the cooking there was a lively debate on the history and ownership of this particular oven, as well as other last minute details including who had told whom about the event, and how many people were we actually planning for, as well as how to confine the event to the Civitonici and their guests. Some of the tourists were asking how to get some pizza as the aroma of the rosemary and wood smoke filled the air around the piazza.  I  was taking  photographs but soon realized that an audio recording of  the event would add to the richness of the images.  I asked Giovanni, Roseanna's small grandson, to find my daughter Anna, and have her bring the laptop. Anna had recorded the interviews with the residents about the use of the fireplaces for my study of the hearths of Civita. She held the laptop and ran the recording software as I continued to take pictures.

The cooks shared the first pizza out of the oven. Opinions and complements followed.  I was  offered a piece and it was delicious.  The  simple pizza flavored by the aroma from the wood fire and the rosemary broom was indescribable.  After the third pizza was tested and approved for serving, the assembly line of prep cooks worked elbow to elbow on the tables of the alfresco kitchen making both pizza Bianca and traditional pizza with tomato sauce. In the meantime, the dining tables had  been set up in the piazza with the stone bench of the Palazzo Alemani as seating.

With my back against the warm stones of the palazzo, I sat savoring my pizza and the view across the piazza.  I noticed how the town had suddenly and curiously emptied of the ever present summer tourists as the blue sky of twilight descended and latecomers sought seats, plates, and glasses of wine. The piazza was almost empty except for the diners. A few children and dogs milled around the piazza half-heatedly chasing a ball.  I overheard one of the Civitonici remark quietly, "Look how beautiful Civita is in the emptiness." 

Lauris worked on the church steps to set up the screen which had been delivered that afternoon.  As an evening breeze came up, the screen acted more like a sail then a screen, even tethered to Tony's 20 kg weights. After several attempts with helpful directions and assistance from the eager audience, Padre Marco opened the church doors and the screen was fastened in the doorway.

As the last pizza and wine were shared, dark enveloped us.  It was time to start the slide show. People left their conversations and gathered on the church steps enthusiastically jumping up to identify people on the screen.  There were lively comments from the audience about the changes to the community over the almost thirty years since the pictures were taken, including sadly the people who were gone, and on a more humorous note the changes to the hemlines, belt sizes and hair styles. 

I overheard Tom Weil (1), a travel writer who was on an extended  vacation in Civita, ask Enrico Morteo (2), an Italian architect who participated in the UW Italian Hilltowns program as a student and who was visiting for  the day, "How many places in Italy are like Civita; how unique is Civita?"  Enrico's answer was, "There are no other places like Civita."  Tom continued, "There must be some places in Italy that have retained their character, their individuality like Civita, some place just as special?" Enrico's reply was still " No, Civita is truly unique."  As the slide show ended, the dining tables were cleared, and the impromptu kitchen was knocked down and carried away, the diners drifted off into small groups and disappeared down the streets to their houses.

I had scheduled to document that particular oven the following morning.  As I was measuring, I noticed that the oven was still warm and the aroma of wood smoke and pizza hung in the air.  Several groups of tourists approached me to ask if the oven was still in use. "Yes, I told them. On special occasions, they still make pizza in the communal ovens," and I thought to myself, "And if you are very lucky you might have the privilege of being here to share it with them."

1. Tom Weil is a world traveler and an accomplished author and travel writer.

2. Enrico Morteo  is an architect, critic, and design and architecture historian. He has taught at the IUAV in Venice, contributes to leading international design magazines, and is the author of radio and television shows. Enrico is a member of the Advisory Committee of Turin 2008 World Design Capital. Enrico was a student on IHT'79, and co-Program Assistant with Lauris on IHT '80.