Jewish Artichokes

Walking into Nonna Betta, I felt the history, warmth, and welcome of the Roman Jewish community. I was on a mission to try a Jewish Style artichoke and, with the help of two of my friends, we found this wonderful Kosher restaurant. Right away the waiters and servers were kind and laid back. They joked around with us and made us feel like this was a family meal rather than a business transaction. Their welcoming nature passed the lines of the regular standard- they wanted us to fully experience their culture and lifestyle in a way of food. Looking at the menu the first thing that stuck out to me was the variety of ways that artichokes were incorporated into the different dishes. The kosher diet has strict rules about how milk and meat cannot be prepared or eaten together. For all to be aware of the kosher standard there were also symbols next to every course list of what it included or what was left out whether that be fish, eggs, milk, gluten, nuts, sulfite, or celery. This reflected the deep care and thought that they put into their visitors who actually are kosher. The best thing though? Surrounding the menu was a line that stated, “Life is too short to have the wrong Jewish style artichoke”. There is no better way to confirm how deeply this dish is embedded in their food culture and how proud they are about their history in Rome.

Receiving the artichoke, I was honestly nervous. I read numerous recipes about how to prepare this dish for my English class but seeing it, shaped like a rose blossom and a perfect mix of soft and crispy, I did not know what to think. Here in front of me sat a dish that was birthed in the time of the Roman Jewish Ghetto but was reclaimed as a way of displaying their heritage, resilience, and persistence of staking this place as their rightful home. I looked at it in awe and wonder, questioning what the right way to eat it was. I glanced around to make sure none of the waiters were watching my actions, pulled off one of the crispy artichoke leaves, and tenderly placed it in my mouth. I fell in love. I fell in love with the way that food can represent so much and be a statement of “I am here to stay” and “I am a part of this community and if you accept me then you accept all that was put into producing me today, yesterday, and tomorrow”. In no way is this an exaggeration. That artichoke was honestly so damn good. Although the rest of my night was amazing and the main course was delicious, my mind kept going back to the artichoke. This food was not some tourist ploy to get you to spend money on something “culturally accurate”. It was a homemade recipe that at one point fed a family and now at Nonna Betta, they are welcoming us to the family table to dining with them.

Leaving the restaurant, I had this weight of guilt on my shoulders. Guilt that I did not know more about the Jewish culture. Guilt that they had experienced such deep, culturally shared trauma. Guilt that I was so unaware of the heartiness of the artichoke that reflects the resilience of the Jews. To try to fix this guilt I did what I think is necessary for all to do: dig a little deeper. I went to the Nonna Betta website and my suspicions were absolutely correct. This restaurant originated using the recipes of the grandmother of the owner. It went on to tell the story about the Jews in Rome and how they have really paved their home here whether people liked it or not. In the end, I realized two things about myself: I am a HUGE fan of artichokes and that learning about then experiencing a different culture is something I truly enjoy.

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences” -Audre Lorde