From lunch, we headed (in the rain) across town to the Museo Casa Enzo Ferrari. We opted for this museum instead of the Ferrari factory in the suburbs; having only been to one of the two, it's impossible to compare, but this museum was great. It was a vast hall full of fast cars. (I assume. They look fast, and I've seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off. These cars didn't actually move.) Maya insisted on having her photo taken with each and every car. They also showed movies on the wall periodically; one simply chronicled the history of Ferrari racing, while another presented feats of Ferrari and Pavarotti (another famous modenese) side by side. I was struck by a thought of how much the automotive industry advanced simply in Enzo Ferrari's lifetime. It must have been amazing for him to be involved in the entire evolution. After the museum, we headed to the apartment, cleaned up a bit, cajoled Maya into doing a bit of her homework, and then headed out to dinner. Of course, it wasn't dinner time yet, so we first wandered into the famous local market and picked up some fresh yogurt and fruit for breakfast on Sunday. The restaurant we chose, which was recommended by our friends, has apparently changed since they'd been there (from one that served medieval plates) to a "home cooking" place (where grandma makes the pasta by hand and grandpa cooks it). It was, again, delicious.
Sunday morning, we had our breakfast, and then headed into the main part of Modena for sightseeing. Since it had stopped raining, we could now better enjoy what makes the city center a UNESCO World Heritage Site. There's the impressive Duomo and the lesser known leaning tower, which we climbed. It was tough to get a good view of the inside of the cathedral with all of the ongoing Sunday services, but we did manage a glimpse in the afternoon. We spent the morning in the Palazzo dei Musei, which houses (mostly) the city's civic museum. It was actually a really great (free) stop. After lunch (after two misfires, we actually found a true brunch, complete with pancakes [with balsamic vinegar] and scrambled eggs [with balsamic vinegar]), we toured the sale commune (public rooms) in the town hall (which were gorgeous) then visited the city's acetaia, where we learned (in Italian) about the process of making traditional balsamic vinegar of Modena. We actually retained quite a bit of information. When asked at the end of the presentation how much we had understood, I said probably abut 20%, but that we had understood a clear passion for aceto balsamico and its production. This was clearly the right answer. (We also learned not to burn the vinegar (that tastes bad), that the presenter's grandma kept the good stuff locked up to come out for only holidays and grandpa's special onion cake, and that one of the presenter's sons doesn't care for aceto balsamico, wine in general, or parmigiano. He said he considered demanding a paternity test. Oh, and we learned about the batterie (sets of barrels) necessary to age the vinegar, the potential expense of doing so, that at least five barrels are necessary in a set, that the barrels are not completely full (to maintain a sufficient surface area for concentrating the vinegar) and why the commune's acetaia exists (to protect the tradition). Oh, and Maya doesn't care for the taste.) After our lesson in vinegar production, we quickly ducked in the church before we hopped in the car and headed home.
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