Recollections of places, events and people from the past are often clouded by years of reminiscing and yearning for the good old days, especially when the good old days were the sixties and seventies, when memories were cast in a haze of pot smoke.
Manuel went to the University of Wisconsin when it was the hotbed of liberalism, Vietnam War protests, sexual freedom and great marijuana. Days of studying and nights of partying culminated in a Garibaldi at Paisan’s, a local family run Italian restaurant, in business since 1950. I had been hearing about these Garibaldi sandwiches for years. Manuel’s eyes would glaze over as he described the wonder of Italian cold cuts lovingly arranged on a baguette, topped with spicy cheese, sliced tomatoes and banana peppers, then popped in an oven, and served piping hot. I’d offer to heat up one of my delectable Philadelphia hoagies, and although he enjoys eating them, it was obvious that they were no match for one of these Madison marvels.
Paisan's famous Garibaldi
So imagine his delight when Manuel realized that Madison, Wisconsin was directly on our way home. Even before visiting his alma mater, we tracked down Paisan’s new location —over the years they’ve had to move five times, displaced by the university’s growth— found a parking space for Serena and took a culinary walk down memory lane. I was so afraid that after all of these years of fantasizing about this delicacy, Manny would be disappointed, but it was exactly as he remembered. Although I thought them a little greasy for my taste, I could understand why he harbored these loving memories. Perhaps forty years from now, I’ll enjoy eating another one too.
Abe and Manny in front of Bascom Hall
Stuffed and happy, we set off to explore the campus and relive more of Manuel’s past. It is easy to see why Manny loved going to school here. Madison boasts the quintessential university setting: old ivy covered stone buildings, winding shrub lined paths, and a bronze statue of Abraham Lincoln high on Bascom Hill —a central spot— watching over the campus. His left foot has become somewhat of a talisman, with every one who passes going out of their way to touch it, to the point that it is the only part of the monument that gleams.
We ended our tour of the campus in the student union. It was obvious that Der Rathskeller is the hub of the campus life: professors playing cards, students studying together or enjoying a beer after a long day of classes, and visitors showing off the campus to family and friends. Sitting in the heavy wooden chairs in the lounge’s dim amber light, admiring the murals and German proverbs covering Der Rathskeller’s walls and the fine collection of authentic beer steins, I felt like a was in one of the underground bars in Munich.
Besides the charming university campus, the central part of Madison is on a unique location, set on a narrow isthmus between Lake Mendota and Lake Monona. It is one of the few places in the world where one can enjoy watching both a sunrise and sunset over the water from the same vantage point.
The city planners have taken great care of this charmed locale. Quaint shops, trendy stores and upscale boutiques, ethnic eateries, gourmet restaurants, intimate cafes, and avant garde art galleries line block after block of State Street, a mile long pedestrian mall since 1974, extending from the University campus to the stately Capitol building.
If I had attended the University of Wisconsin, I’m not sure I would have ever left Madison.