 This landmark commemorates Hannibal’s Battle of Trebia and his famous war elephants that he famously herded over the Alps. Italy has so much history that the natives probably get bored with it. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been trying to find important historical sites only to get lost. The problem is that, at best, there may be a little sign in Italy telling you that X is down this particular road or to “turn here for…” We’re not used to that. The American tradition of putting up great neon signs every 20 feet or so to advertise a site, while a bit gauche, is very useful for us dumb tourists. Sadly, in Italy you could literally be driving past the location of an event that shook world history and not even know it. If you get distracted by one cute squirrel you might completely miss that little sign and never be any the wiser. This could easily have been the case for one of the most important battle sites of Ancient Rome: Hannibal’s Battle of Trebia. No, not the Hannibal who fancies chianti and fava beans with a heaping plate of cannibalism (though he’s interesting too), but Hannibal Barca, genius battle strategist and scourge of ancient Rome. You might remember him from history class. He’s that general from Carthage (i.e., modern-day Tunisia in North Africa) who marched an army of 30,000 men – including 15,000 horses, lots of donkeys, and 37 war elephants (!!) – over the alps. Who does that? Either a genius or madman. Hannibal was no dumb-dumb, though, and he was very motivated to take the Roman Empire down a peg or two.  Site of the battle. It probably looked a bit different back in Roman times. After descending from the alps with his poor pachyderms and meandering around Italy for a while, wily old Hannibal knew he had to humiliate the Romans in a grander fashion than the little skirmishes he’d been having with the legions. So, on a chilly day in December of 218 BC, his army camped outside of a flat plane with the Trebia river situated between his own and the Roman armies. The plane was so flat it offered little risk of an ambush (keep this in mind). He roused his troops very early in the morning. Like a good general, he made sure they had a nice, warm breakfast. This probably included something like oatmeal or barley porridge with some hard cheese thrown in for extra protein. He probably also had them rub their bodies down with hot olive oil, not just for warmth, but to make it a lot harder to wrestle them to the ground. He knew they were going to have a long day. Hannibal then sent his dangerous (and a bit chaotic) Numidian cavalry across the river to pick a fight with the Romans. Though very early in the morning, with many soldiers still asleep, the Romans were more than happy to play along. Sempronius, head of the legions, ordered his entire army to take Hannibal down. Unfortunately for the Romans, in order to do so, they had to wade across the frigid waters of the Trebia. To paraphrase a great line from Animal House, “cold, tired, and hungry is no way to go into battle, son”. But go they did, and engaged the upstart General. As the Romans slammed into the Carthaginian line, they pushed forward toward the center. They tended to shy away from Hannibal’s wings, as they were understandably nervous to face down the angry elephants and cavalry that Hannibal had cleverly positioned there. Though the Romans outnumbered the Carthaginians, Hannibal was no fool. He knew they would focus on the center, hoping to break his line. So, he planned to have the left and right wings of his army slowly start to encircle the legions. And encircle they did.  An artistic rendition of the battle of Trebia. Next, he gave Sempronius a surprise bigger than any M. Night Shyamalan movie or ending of a Scooby Doo episode. The Romans were about to get ambushed. Though the battle took place on a flat plane, Hannibal had secretly sent his brother Mago, 1000 cavalry, and 1000 infantry to hide in some marshland to the left of the river the night before. Then, at the perfect moment, Mago’s men sprang into action, attacking the rear of Sempronius’s line. The encirclement of the Romans was now complete, and this was very bad for the Italians. Some Romans were able to break through the Carthaginian center and escape. They were the lucky ones, and very few were lucky that day. The rest of the army was surrounded, with death coming from all sides. What a bloodbath this must have been. Imagine those poor Roman soldiers, bunched up like teenage girls at a Taylor Swift concert, unable to swing their swords or throw their javelins because there wasn’t enough room. Imagine what it must have been like to hear the death cries of their countrymen, knowing they their own screams would soon join this macabre chorus. Blood, sweat, and viscera were the only things they could smell as they waited for their own demise to come, shivering from cold and fear, and not even having the small comfort of a full belly. This is truly the stuff of nightmares. Historians estimate that approximately 20,000 (!!) Romans died that day alone, with the Carthaginians losing several thousand men. These casualties could easily fill up a good-sized college football stadium. And keep in mind that these men were not killed by grenades, drone strikes, or cluster bombs. These were deaths brought about by hacking, slicing, thrusting, and the occasional crush of an elephant’s foot. Most were not quick deaths. Driving to the battle site today, though, you would hardly know that any of this took place. Granted, there is a very impressive war elephant statue and, of course, a plaque describing this battle. Other than those, though, you just see concrete roads and nondescript scenery similar to any other stretch of northern Italian highway. It somehow seems a bit imbalanced given the massive scale of this event and all the men (and poor elephants) who died here. Maybe this judgment is coming from a selfish place. If one of us were ever decapitated by a short sword or gored to death by an elephant tusk in a massive battle, we’d like to think that there would at least be a tour guide, memorial garden, or even a tacky gift shop to mark the location where we shuffled off our mortal coils. But, alas, Italy has so many places like this, we can only guess that they have to choose their tourist sites wisely. Getting there. As noted, this is a bit difficult to find online. Search for “Monument to 2nd Punic War” or type this address into google maps: SP40, 29010 Gazzola PC, Italy There is some parking at the site. You might also spy some cute skinks running around the monument. Beware of the hornets, though. When we visited there were quite a few buzzing around. Side Trips: There is so much to see in the area. For instance, Parma – yes, the place where they make Parmigiano Reggiano cheese – is just about an hour and a half drive from the site of the battle. It’s a nice central location to do a food tour of Northern Italy in addition to some dark tourist trips If you decide to follow in Hannibal’s footsteps and cross the alps, make sure to try a fun local crunchy rye flatbread called Schüttelbrot. It’s sort of like Swedish Knäckebröd, but lightly spiced with fenugreek, caraway, cumin, and/or fennel. The fenugreek variety is most traditional and is a must try if you’re ever in the area. Though you can find it in local grocery stores, the best comes from local bakeries (of course). Also, make sure to taste of Italian Amari when you’re there. It will get you in the mood for post number two on our homemade walnut amaro.
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If you frequent the occasional cocktail bar, you already know that Amari (i.e., the plural of "Amaro") are all the rage these days. We even found Amaro Averna in a teeny tiny little liquor store in rural Maryland the other day. That seems to imply that it’s a growth industry. Have you ever had fantasies of making a homemade version of this hipster cocktail staple? Do you live in North America, the UK, or Europe? Do you know where there’s a walnut tree nearby? If you answered yes to all three of these questions, you should go to the tree (literally right now, the window for this is closing), grab a bunch of the little green, unripe walnuts, and follow the easy recipe below. We prefer black walnuts for making our version, but the regular English or French varieties will work too.  Green nuts fresh from black walnut trees in the backyard All you need is basic caveman-level food prep skills and some patience, and in just two months you will have a complex, spicy amaro to impress all your friends and hand out as personalized presents over the next year. Let’s start with some basics, though, what is this strange elixir called amaro? In a nutshell, it’s a bittersweet liqueur with complex flavors and aromas, often enjoyed as a digestif after heavy meals. The most famous amari hail from the land of the pasta waistband tightener, Italy (of course), but France and many other European countries have their own versions. Though often enjoyed neat or chilled, it can be used to great effect in cocktails.  A quartered green walnut Having literally just gone to the backyard and harvested three Black Walnut trees for their immature nuts, we are well on our way to making one of our favorites called Nocino (Italy) or Liqueur de Noix (France). As this is a multi-part post, we won’t go too far into the tasting notes, but suffice it to say that just a barspoon full of this homemade liqueur can elevate a Manhattan, Old Fashioned, or even standard black coffee to gourmand-level heights. It’s that good.  Day 1 of nocino - fresh from being mixed Recipe -20 green nuts from a Black Walnut tree (or 30 green English/French Walnuts) -2.5 cups sugar -1 liter cheap 80-horsepower vodka -2 sticks of good quality cinnamon -1 whole vanilla bean (don’t use extract – this receipt is worth splurging on the good stuff) Other spices and flavorings. David Lebovitz uses 10 cloves and the zest of one lemon. We’ve used his recipe many times and love it, but wanted to tweek it to our tastes https://www.davidlebovitz.com/liqueur-de-noix-green-walnut-liq/ We used: -1 ts grains of paradise -7 dried cubeb (an aromatic pepper from Java) berries Directions -Mix the sugar with the vodka, doing your best to make a nice solution. Don’t worry if some sugar is on the bottom. It will eventually incorporate. -Quarter the green walnuts with a sharp paring knife. We recommend using gloves as there is a pigment in the walnuts that will turn your skin temporarily black. Place them in the vodka. -Add in the remaining spices and vanilla bean -Shake to incorporate -Set in a cool, dark place and shake every day for two solid months. Yes, you need to be patient here and let the walnuts do their magic.
There’s really something strange going on in all those ex-Viking countries (e.g., Norway, Sweden, Finland). In addition to having ridiculously tall and stoic people, they also tend to produce good, strange, and (sadly) very expensive liquor. Maybe it’s always been that way. It’s possible that the only way to get yourself through watching the famous “Blood Eagle” torture might be to drink something just a bit more bracing that the usual beer or mead. Regardless, for our money, some of the most unique Viking tipples hail from that slightly out-of-the-way country to the northeast of America, Iceland.  The Sun Voyager in Iceland's capital of Reykjavík We came upon this drink purely by chance. While flying Icelandair for the first time on our way home from the UK, we had some extra time to visit Duty Free at Keflavík International Airport in the capital of Reykjavík. Quickly grabbing up two bottles of Brennivín (i.e., “the black death” – we’ll cover this in a future post), our keen eyes spied an amber bottle with what looked like a chunk of moss floating inside. Though it didn’t exactly look appealing, it was unique, and that was good enough for us. So, we grabbed a bottle of that, too, and raced to our gate before we missed the connecting flight. This was a very good decision. When we finally got around to opening this strange bottle labeled as Fjallagrasa Icelandic Schnapps, we were very surprised. To be honest, we had never considered what alcoholic moss would taste like, but we never imagined that it would taste as good as this (see notes below). Though this may sound strange, it tasted, dare we say, “healthy”. After some quick googling, we learned that this moss has been used in Iceland for centuries as a means to ward off coughs and colds and, interestingly, might even have immunostimulant properties. On the other hand, this could all just be a great rationalization to drink more Schnapps. We’re fine either way.  Icelandic Schnapps in a shot glass purchased from Iceland's world famous Phallological Museum To make this strange Schnapps, special Viking lichen is harvested by hand from the interior of the country, mainly at higher elevations. We can only imagine that horned helmets are de rigeur and that proper sacrifices must be made to Freya and Loki before pulling out any of these choice plants. The liquor-loving mosses are then left to sit in neutral spirits until the flavors are extracted and it morphs into the soft amber liqueur you see in the pics. So back to the cost of drinking in ex-Viking lands… Sadly, getting a bit buzzed in Iceland will set you back some cash. An average beer costs $10-12 with cocktails ranging upwards of $20. This unfortunate fact may put a limit on your personal degeneracy when visiting Iceland’s capital. Necessity, they say, is the mother of invention, though, and there are cheaper options. Our best piece of advice is NOT to rush from the airport, but to spend a good bit of time in the Duty Free store before you leave. You’ll be able to load up on beer, liqueur, wine, and even food at far cheaper prices than anywhere in the Reykjavík region, even at grocery and liquor stores. Then, just have a drink or three before you hit the town and be patient as you nurse those overpriced Icelandic beers while waiting for your $35 vegetarian burger. Please don't let the cost deter you. Iceland is a very cool place with fascinating people, so it is well worth it. Flavor Notes: Fjallagrasa Icelandic Schnapps is a tough drink to describe. The only thing we’ve ever tried that even comes close to this flavor profile would be an Italian liqueur named Zirmol which is made from pinecones. However, Zirmol is more “piney” (obviously) and has hints of menthol that you don’t find in our Icelandic Schnapps. We would describe the Icelandic stuff as soft, a bit earthy and woody, with an almost butterscotch flavor at the end. You may taste white pepper and citrus as well. Unfortunately, all these subtle flavors can easily be overpowered, so care must be taken when using it in cocktails or you’ll miss the moss. At 38% horsepower, it’s certainly not weak, but the flavor makes it feel softer and less powerful than it is.  The Moss Toddy A new cocktail for summer cold season: The Moss Toddy
-2 oz Moss Schnapps -1 oz water -1/2 oz lime juice -1/2 oz Velvet Falernum (we use John D. Taylor's brand) -Shake with ice and strain into rocks glass -Enjoy your subtle and complex drink as that pesky summer cough gently fades into the Northern Lights Nestled in the heart of the East End of London – just a quick 24-minute walk north of the famous Tower – lies The Ten Bells. This pub is not only a great example of Victorian-era drinking decor but is also the place where two of Jack the Ripper’s victims took their last drinks prior to meeting their gruesome ends. The Ten Bells is also believed by those who live in the paranormal world to be the #1 most haunted pub in London. It’s worth a stop the next time you’re trying to kill time in Jolly Old England’s capital.  The street entrance to The Ten Bells.  You can see some of the lovely tiles in this fancy establishment. The location of the bar in the 1880s would have been on the right hand side of the shot. The Ripper and The Ten Bells You’ve all heard of Whitechapel, the section of London made famous from Jack the Ripper movies like From Hell starring Johnny Depp. You can probably even visualize what it was like to walk around there at night in the 1880s: cramped, congested, seedy, and dirty. Rain- and blood-soaked streets were dimly illuminated by yellow street lamps that made everyone and everything look jaundiced. The sound your own footsteps echoing down narrow cobblestoned streets was only occasionally interrupted by a lascivious drunken boast or the death rattle of “an unfortunate” meeting her brutal demise. This was the dark world inhabited by that old laughing boy, Jack the Ripper. Jack the Ripper, AKA Leather Apron (a name far less fitting for Hollywood movies) went on a crazed, necromutilomaniacal killing spree in Whitechapel between 1888 and 1891. There are different accounts of how many local sex workers met their end via the blades of his knives, but most Ripperologists stick to the “Canonical Five” consisting of Annie Chapman, Catherine Eddowes, Mary Jane Kelly, Mary Ann Nichols, and Elizabeth Stride. Three of these women have been linked to the Ten Bells. First, Elizabeth Stride was kicked out of the Ten Bells for drunk and disorderly behavior. The mind boggles at the level of fun (or cockneyed belligerence) that could lead to a person getting kicked out of a Whitechapel pub in 1888, but we sadly lack those critical details. Second, and more tragic, Annie Chapman is said to have been in The Ten Bells right before her murder took place at 29 Hanbury Street. This is a mere three-minute walk from the pub. Last, but certainly not least, that Irish lass Mary Kelly was believed to pick up her clients at both the pub and on the pavement right outside its doors. It’s even possible that she was propositioned by Jack inside the walls of The Ten Bells. Unfortunately for her, Mary’s death (and post-mortem abuse) was the most gruesome of the canonical five. She was not only a later victim – after Jack had refined and intensified his macabre fantasies – but was also the only one to be killed indoors. As a result, the Ripper didn’t have to rush as much as he did when murdering ladies of the evening on cobblestoned streets. He took his time. Poor Mary was killed and mutilated in a simple, one bedroom apartment just a two-minute walk south of The Ten Bells.  What public houses probably looked like in the 1880s. The image is from a very good set of Ripper trading cards titled The Autumn of Fear (Deborah Hyde & Floyd Jones Hughes, 1993). The ”Hauntings” The dark reputation of the pub isn’t limited to the Ripper, though. A baby was supposedly murdered there in the 19th century. “Psychics” supposedly refused to enter a room in the pub where this grisly event took place. Later – and this is surely disturbing if true but the PD team cannot confirm this detail – moldy baby clothes with cut marks on them were being found in a forgotten sack secreted behind a water tank. Then there’s George, a ghost that inhabits the pub. It is supposedly the spirit of George Roberts, a former landlord of the Ten Bells who was murdered with an axe. His untimely demise apparently led him to not only stay in the place where he was murdered, but also to become a poltergeist, and an irritable one at that. Old George (or another ghost – it’s hard to keep track of this supernatural literature) is reputed to wake up visitors staying in the upper floor apartments, lure them into the hallway, and then push them down the stairs. In other versions of the story, people would awake to George lying next to them in bed. Now that’s a bit creepy, George… Visiting The Ten Bells If you’re in London, visiting the pub is barely an inconvenience. It opens at noon every day and closes late in the night (i.e., be careful if you stay until closing). Most of the décor is not the Ripper-era original, as it would not have looked nearly this posh, but it will give you a feel for what it was like to drink in the Victorian age. The blue and white tiles are particularly striking. This is also where the bar would have been when the Ripper was active, not the current location in the center of the room. You will not meet patrons dressed in traditional Victorian garb. However, due to the fact that a number of hipsters frequent the bar, you may very well spot a handlebar moustache. After you have a pint or three, make sure to visit the toilets before you leave. They are downstairs and accessed by a very narrow staircase that will probably give you the most authentically creepy Victorian vibes.  The charming modern bar at The Ten Bells. Ask if they have Old Speckled Hen or Old Thumper on tap if you drop in for a visit. Getting There
The Ten Bells 84 Commercial Street London E1 6LY United Kingdom Side Trips As noted above, the Tower of London is a short walk away, as is the Tower Bridge. You’re also just a short tube ride from The British Museum, Harrod’s, Fortnum & Mason, and thousands of other fun sites. |
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