The produce on offer at a local market in Rome. Pic Courtesy/Rosalyn D'Mello

This column is an interlude. Something I've paused to write as the two whole chickens I bought are absorbing a marinade I'm deceptively calling secret because I cannot successfully recall its constituting ingredients. There is in there the juice of an overripe orange, and instead of red wine vinegar, I've used wine leftover from a Chianti I'd bought in Firenze.