For a foreigner in a foreign country there are many benefits to association. The tourist, starving and blind, wandering, lusting for authenticity, is mostly lost unless guided by locals, especially where the native tongue is required. In Rome our “in” was Julie’s cousin. Steven, an American expat, now a dual citizen, working for Rome opera as a coach and accompanist, could sing us a tune about where to go and was happy to come along. During the summer, Rome Opera set up outside in the Roman baths, the Terme di Caracalla, for Aïda with live elephants, Turandot with choral armies, and other crowning achievements of Italian opera, all framed by crumbling skyward columns of Roman brick. On Steven’s coattails we could ride past ticket takers and find open seats five nights a week if we wanted. During intermissions the concessions would open and offer vino, gelato, sparkling water, and panini among other treats. The panini were a revelation in simplicity. A crusty roll or hunk of bread, a slice of cheese (pecorino Romano), and a piece of pancetta or prosciutto di Parma. Basta cosí—let’s call it a day. This crusty loaf can be made at home, like many breads, with some time but little effort.