Venice: A Labyrinth for Romantics

Only a few cities in the world come close to matching the mystical beauty of Venice, Italy. It is an island where vehicles are prohibited on land, while boats traverse the crossword puzzle of murky green canals through the labyrinth of buildings. Buses are large boats.  Taxis are water taxis. Romantics may hire a gondola for a hand-pushed ride in those long and skinny Venetian boats, best for small parties.

 Above sea level, walking by foot is the only other choice. Here, no bicycles are found, no motorized scooters or tiny Smart cars are allowed.  Here, the island is a life away from the rest of the world.  A sort of paradise for romantics.  In the winter months, Venice is a cold and not so pleasant place.  Being located on the sea seems to chill even the warmest bones no matter how many layers of clothing. The benefit of going that time of year is the number of tourists drastically decrease.  Off season numbers are fantastic, including off season pricing for hotels and as airfare. 

 But in spring, autumn, and summer in particular, Venice may be crowded, but it has a magic to it.  The flowers are in full bloom delighting the nose and the eyes. The evening temperatures are comfortable, where nights show people wearing perfectly appropriate shorts, shirts or light dresses.  The charm of the city is discovered through evening strolls in the largest public square, Piazza di San Marco.  There, centuries ago, visitors arrived at their docks to a large palace, called the Doge Palace, and a beautiful basilica, the Basilica of San Marco.  Today, people stand in awe at the immaculately detailed and wonderfully preserved mosaic and sculpture-filled facades of the religious institution. Truly, it is a jewel not to be missed both at day time and night.

 In the very same piazza, at least one live band plays easy listening instrumental-only hits. One band prefers to showcase their accordionist. Another, more of a jazz ensemble, highlights their talent through the liquid yet playful clarinet. Every one of them has a pianist and drummer.  Behind the band is the entrance to the restaurant sponsoring the musical group.  In front of them are seventy tables for two, tempting passers-by to sit down and enjoy just a few more pieces over a refreshing Bellini  the peach and prosecco concoction originating from Venice. Falling in love with everything has never been so easy.

 At Carnevale, the annual festival right before Lent, people wear masks and have done so for hundreds of years. Because of this age-old tradition, they are sold, it seems, in every other store on the island.  From the bright and colorful to the blank, unpainted varieties, masks of every odd mold and design are uniquely Venetian.

 Murano is nearby Venice, an easy boat ride to an island of artisans.  Their handmade glass is unique and known worldwide, considered very good quality. Art-lovers are lucky.  They don’t have to go to Italy just to get the beautiful products.  They can find Murano glass nearly everywhere, as vendors understand the demand for hand-crafted excellence.

Beautiful glass, odd shaped masks, canals, labyrinths and charm. Venice is easily one of the cities that make Italy so great. Have you ever been there?  What did you like best about Venice?

Rustic Bean, Sausage and Fennel Soup

It feels like late autumn.  The days are overcast, exuding a darkness that inspires laying in bed. Rain showers intermittently drop through the falling grape leaves covering my walkway. The loosest leaves succumb to the heavy liquid as it drops from the skies, creating a sound absorbing, earthy-smelling cover to the concrete.  The air is more than crisp.  It leaves a chill in my bedroom only a cozy bed can combat, and layers upon layers of covers.

On this fine fall day, it's true, I wanted to stay in bed.  But the refrigerator called and it said, "Feed me." It had been bare for more than a day now and no longer could I live off of the things that never seem to go bad, like chestnut honey or that never ending bottle of vermouth.  Off to the grocery store I went and I was greeted with an Italian, "Good day," by the always pleasant female vagabond who unfailingly sits in front of the store every day, happy to accept any spare coin in my pocket. I reply hello but have no change to give her and walk through the market's doors. 

As it happens, going to the supermarket in Italy is all about timing. My usual store opens at 9:00am.  If you go right when it opens, that's when the employees are restocking the shelves.  These are the times when I know I don't need salad, vegetables or fruit.  Because the produce specialist working that time doesn't seem to get to the task until about 10:00am.  But the locals seem to be keen on this fact, because by 10:30am, the store is packed.  And that's when the battle begins for the red plastic handcarts. 

Already the stack is empty so I walk to the cash registers where people empty their carts to pick one up.  None are there as well.  Just a long line of people waiting to buy their groceries.  But, alas, my luck has arrived, because a lady has only two items left in her cart.  I walk forward slowly, beginning to spelunk my way through the thin passage of overflowing carts and tall people.  Almost there, I think of how to approach the woman as she empties her last item from the cart.  Excuse me, miss, may I have that? Yes, that would be the right way.  I will be formal, polite, and stunningly knowledgeable of how to ask someone for their cart in Italian.

Right when I'm about to open my mouth, my competitor got the best of me, a middle-aged woman who snuck up right behind me, saw an opening, took it, and now stood in front of me asking for the cart.

Cartless, I turn around and peak through the rest of the cashier lanes.  Excellent!  Someone accidentally placed their empty one on the other side, hidden to most, but thankfully, I'm taller than the average Italian, or so I like to think. So I grab that before anyone else can and I'm on the way to grocery buying history.

All I had on the mind was food fit for fall weather.  I needed to make something warm, full of body, something that said this is autumn. And when I got to the butcher section, I saw the excellent variety of sausages, thin, fat, long, short. And right under my nose sat two lonely packages, nearly obscure due to their front positioning. What caught my attention was their sickly dark color. Not gray, not black, but something bordering improper.  Was this blood sausage?  No, not dark enough but I wish it were.  I've made a superb Catalan (spanish) soup using blood sausage before so I wasn't exactly afraid of the stuff. No matter.  It was different than any of the other kinds available and I instantly knew I could create great soup with some complementary products. As I walked away, I noticed these were sitting next to packaged tripe, cow tongue and other offal parts. A good sign.  Those less adventurous may disagree with that notion. 

I grabbed a multicolored bag of dried beans which were considered "rustic" according to the label.  Would you want soup any other way? Then it was off to the produce section and even though I wasn't sure what part of the pig this sausage was made from, I knew some diced vegetables would greatly add to it.  Who could pass up fresh fennel when it looks so good?

Some several hours later, may I present to you... tonight's dinner:  VASGO's Rustic Bean and Fennel Soup, with Pork Liver Sausage.

Photo Source

1 bag of mixed dried beans

3 large stalks celery

4 large carrots

1 medium fennel bulb, fronds removed

1 medium green bell pepper

1 yellow onion

5 cloves garlic

1 Tablespoon dried oregano

1/2 Tablespoon black pepper 

4 links fresh pork liver sausage (if you can find it!)
Any type of crusty, springy bread to soak up the liquid in between bites, such as sourdough.

Speed soak the dried beans in a large soup pot, about 1.5 hours total. Do NOT add salt or your beans will never cook properly. During that, dice all the vegetables, mix all together. In a fry pan, saute vegetable mix with olive oil over medium/medium-high heat until carrot pieces can be pierced easily with a fork. Do in batches if necessary. Add to bean soup/bean broth when beans are ready for their secondary cooking. Add oregano and black pepper to liquid. Place pork liver sausages in the soup and let simmer for an hour or two.  Remove sausages and let cool. Skim fat from soup's surface. Slice sausages into thin rounds. Add back into soup, add salt as desired. Serve. 

Mmmmmm.... home made soup....

I should also mention, a few shakes of the old Tabasco bottle gives it a surprisingly Cajun feel that shouldn't be missed if you like that type of thing.

Rome's Restaurant Week

For the life of me, I can't understand why November isn't considered part of the high travel season in Rome. This is possibly one of the best months to visit Rome.

This is the month when the best festivals take place.  Olives are pressed, the newest wines are uncorked from last year's harvest.  It is easily two of Italy's favorite things.  But then there's also the colder weather.  Sure, it's a little rainy, but the air is crisp. Scarves wrap every neck and people look more than good as they eagerly show off their newest fall purchases.  The air mingles scents of wood-burning fires from each pizzeria with the sweet smokey chestnuts of the street side vendors. Later in the month, lights will be hung down main streets and the Christmas markets will pop up to children's delights everywhere.

Indeed, November is a great time of year. And in Rome, it just got even better, all because this week was Restaurant Week! (Nov. 5-11) Here, have a log with some sweets on it!

More than a month ago, the participating restaurants were announced.  Some were great, others not so much.  The best of the best had their time slots full within days.  This year's list can be found here.

For 25 Euros, most people were offered a three course menu.  Not a bad deal if you chose well.

But then some places had stars next to their name. Some stars were red, others were gold, and one even had two gold stars.  What did this all mean?

It turns out some of the restaurants could "up" their game, something I don't recall seeing during Restaurant Weeks in Philadelphia or New York City.  In my opinion, it's a good idea which benefits both parties.  The restaurant makes more money while the consumer eats a better meal. I just want it to be extra good if I'm going to be paying more, like this meal at Metamorfosi... 

The amuse bouche - perfectly cooked chicken bite with fresh herbs and a light orange sauce, perfect with the complimentary glass of prosecco they gave us.

A modern take on carbonara with a 65 degree Celsius cooked egg, guanciale pieces and a pecorino foam.

Sweet onion risotto with snails in a light pesto at the bottom.

Lamb roulade, herb blend on the inside, outside: fennel, dill, awesome, perfectly cooked.

Pre-dessert lollipop: White chocolate coated gorgonzola pop in a  port sauce.

We had to splurge on real dessert, called Torrefazione 2.0. Dark chocolate shell, hazelnut gelato center, sugary foam at the bottom then they pour hot coffee on top to split open the center.  Then pour on puffed rice to add another level of texture.

And finally, post-dessert dessert. Delicious cookie with real raspberry puree, pineapple gelee with a  passionfruit gel, and a dark chocolate lollipop with a coffee truffle center.

Red stars mean the meal costs 35 Euros.  This is to make up for the use of better ingredients. This meal was the best 35 Euro I have ever spent.  And then of course, I spent more for the extra dessert and the bottle of wine, but wow, Metamorfosi was a stunning experience.  Talk about forward-thinking Italian cuisine!

For more info on the restaurant, go to their website: http://metamorfosiroma.it/

A single gold star means the restaurant has earned a Michelin star.  They charge an extra 15 Euros per person for better ingredients and service.

And two gold stars means the restaurant has earned two Michelin stars.  They charge an extra 30 Euros per person.

Restaurant Week to me always meant a "somewhat" better deal to be able to try a restaurant's offerings.At Metamorfosi in Rome, it was an outstanding deal. The other restaurant I went to earlier this week... not even worth mentioning. A disappointment for the 35 euro.

Have you ever been to a restaurant week dinner? What city was it in and why did you like/dislike it?

Olive Season

November in Italy means olive season!  Those small green or black berries are just waiting to be picked, only a small percentage destined for the salty bath we all know as brine will make them wholly edible.  The rest will be thrown into the press.  Olive oil, here we come!

The single largest olive tree I have ever seen, simply MUST be hundreds and hundreds of years old, located at the ancient Villa Adriana (Hadrian's Villa) in Tivoli, Italy.

My latest article can be found here: http://www.made-in-italy.com/travel-to-italy/news/harvesting-olives-in-november

Pigging Out at the Wild Boar Festival

If you've ever lived in Italy, then you know the fine people of the country love their festivals.  The words sagra or festa are found year-round, usually ending with a food product the city is celebrating.  In this month alone, I am aware of a chestnut festival, a polenta festival, and one of the largest chocolate festivals in all of Europe located in Perugia, Italy. Next month, I will hear of wine festivals as well as olive oil festivals.  Food is synonymous with Italian culture, which is why I proclaim myself a "Culture Junkie".

Yesterday, in a lovely hillside city 45 minutes outside of Rome called Castelnuovo di Porto, was the Sagra del Cinghiale. The Festival of Wild Boar.  

I was expecting vendor stalls upon vendor stalls badgering people to purchase their quality pork products over their nearby competitors.  Tube meat would be tossed overhead to eager customers in the back of lines. Wild boar prosciutto, salami, sausages, ragu, spreads, everything about the pig's cousin would be celebrated.  I even hoped there would be the lone oddball out there with a wild boar lollipop or gelato flavor, always the losing dessert on televised cooking competitions.  

But when I arrived at the small medieval city, all that was there in the main piazza, the town square, were several picnic tables and a long line leading to the pickup window of a temporary outdoor kitchen. It was a comforting mix of prison and grade school lunch service. I was given my tray along with a leaky bottle of draught white wine, sfuso. Then I asked for the three course Wild Boar meal.

Pappardelle in Wild Boar Ragu

Wild Boar cooked in a savory and spicy chocolate sauce

French Fries

The french fries were delicious.

And honestly the pasta dish was quite good.  But the boar in chocolate sauce would have been ok if they de-boned it better, in addition to serving it MUCH warmer.  Throughout many bites, I found myself pulling shards of bone from my mouth, not the most pleasant experience.  But for 12 Euro total, I got what I paid for. 

That's right, a man on stilts who made balloon animals.

By the way, for any doubters out there, boar in chocolate sauce is amazing.  The best version I have eaten is at a restaurant in Rome called:  

L'Asino D'Oro

Via del Boschetto, 73  00184 Rome, Italy

If you are unsure of eating wild boar, let one of my other articles change your mind:

http://www.made-in-italy.com/italian-food/news/pigs-porchetta-and-cinghiale-the-italian-wild-boar

The Holy Grail of Beers

Westvleteren is the name of the brewery in the Trappist Abbey of St. Sixtus of Westvleteren.  Serious beer lovers know the name because they have mystery appeal.  Most have heard of it, and most have never tried it. Since World War II, the abbey has prohibited the commercial sale of this beer.  The monks who reside at St. Sixtus create the beer solely to keep the abbey running, not for profit - the mantra of the trappist label.  So, sadly, they cap the amount they brew each year to a mere 60,000 cases each year.

Through a quick search online, one unreliable source suggested that Budweiser brews 2,500,000 cases each year. Much, MUCH more.

But in this comparison lies the age-old dilemma.  Which is more important: Profit or Quality?

I'm certain our ancestors from the early 1900s would say quality craftsmanship, regardless the product, was the most important business goal. I'm also certain today's generation would describe the goals of corporations and other major businesses quite alternatively. Oh trusted Capitalism, how you've changed your ways over the years.

Thankfully, St. Sixtus is concerned with one thing, making what many consider to be the world's best beer.

The story goes like this: You couldn't buy their beer anywhere. If you wanted a bottle of their beer, you would have to buy a case, and no more than one case, DIRECTLY AT THE BREWERY, located in Vleteren, Belgium, way up in the northeastern part of the country near the French borders. They made three different kinds with the names of Blonde, 8 and 12.  The bottles weren't labeled.  The only way to distinguish which beer you were drinking was from the color of the cap.   Oh, and if you wanted to buy a case, you also had to call and reserve one - their way to make sure it wasn't going to be sold commercially.

So on recent search for the Great Pumpkin at my favorite local pub in Rome, Open Baladin, I overheard a customer to my left speak enthusiastically in English.  When a person gets this excited over beer, I know there is something we can talk about.  So I waited for the right moment.  First I tried to find out what he and his friend were drinking without bothering him. I walked to the restroom and on the way back, I passed by the dark bottle... just some roman numerals on the front.  I still had no idea what the beer was.  Eventually, I had to know what he drank, so I interrupted him from his divine moment to find out he was drinking the holy grail of beers, Westvleteren 12.

How did he get this beer?  What is it doing with a label on it? What is it doing in Italy being sold commercially?

I had all these questions I wanted answered, but not the fluency to find out the truth.  So I bonded with my new friend, we talked beer and Rome and then he left. And I had to have my own. After all, I might never get to try this again.

And so I did. Many reviews have said it's just like the St. Bernardus Abt 12 and not deserving of the reputation. I found similarities, but I could absolutely tell the difference in quality, especially in the finish.  The Westvleteren 12 is a dark, high alcohol beer at over 10% with notes of dark fruits, slightly sweet with a hint of brown sugar or molasses, light but desirable fruit esters and the finish is smooth and lingering in the best of ways. Talk about one amazing Belgian beer.  St. Bernardus Abt 12 ends too strong, too overpowering to the palate in my opinion.  Yes, the Westvleteren 12 was worth spending the extra money and if you get the chance to try it, do not let the opportunity pass.

What do you think are the world's best beers?  Post a comment below to share your thoughts.

In Search of the Great (Roman) Pumpkin

To many Americans, October means Halloween.  To beerophiles, October means pumpkin  beer… the finest brews made with pumpkin, cinnamon and often dark brown sugar. 

This fine overcast Sunday in Rome, I decided to search for the Great Pumpkin in Rome.  I knew it wouldn’t be an easy task considering Italians don’t share the same squash-beer love ratios that Americans do. Nonetheless, I was ready for the challenge.

I decided to start with the place I figured would most likely have it… Open Baladin Roma.  I sat down at the bar immediately and looked over the multi-page menu.  If you are unfamiliar with my previous posts about this place: Open Baladin has about 46 varieties on tap. (See Best Places in Rome for Craft Beer and Autumn Beer Festival for more details.)  After flipping through the various categories, I finally found the object of desire.

Wait a minute… it’s from America?  Not what I was looking for guys.  I wanted Italy’s interpretation of the ultimate pumpkin beer.  I will have plenty of time in my future years to taste liquid pumpkin pie from the safety of my American home.  So I threw the menu on the bar top in a fit of anger.

The bartender looked at me, inquisitive at the least.

“Excuse me”, I asked in Italian, “but don’t you have artisanal beer made with pumpkin from Italy?”

The bartender turned around and searched through the mini-fridge behind him. Coming up empty-handed, he explained, yes, Baladin makes a pumpkin beer, aptly named Zucca, the word for squash in Italian, but they were out of stock. All I wanted was a taste of the good old days.  So I grumbled a few curses under my breath, fondly mixing the two languages I knew so anyone and everyone might know the pain I was then suffering, and I said, “I’ll take the Pumpking Ale from Southern Teir.

Pumpking Ale by Southern Tier at Open Baladin Roma

At that point, it didn’t matter what country made the beer.  I had pumpkin on the mind and it wouldn’t go away until I had my fix. So it arrived, a lovely light amber color with a fine cream head and I sniffed the pint to my heart’s content.  Aromas of pumpkin, cinnamon, dark brown sugar filled my nose making my mouth water instantly and a nostalgic feeling took over my mind. It’s like I’d just gone back to the U.S. to visit my family for Thanksgiving. More specifically, it was the moment I woke up in my old home, smelling of pumpkin pie at its last minutes of baking in the oven, ready to for dinner later that day. Buttery, sugary, spiced.

Then I took a sip.  At 8.5%, this beer packs a punch, but the brew master at Southern Tier has done an outstanding job of balancing the high alcohol to flavor ratio.  My beer-tasting palate is more advanced than some, and I could easily tell where that the alcohol was there, but it blended so perfectly with the rest of the overall taste, I knew this was a beer anyone would enjoy, especially beer-snobs.

The Translation: Pumpkin Ale - Now a typical American tradition, beer brewed with pumpkin and cinnamon.  PUMPKING ALE 8.6% - by Southern Tier - An amber beer that tastes of grain, somewhat sweet with notes of cinnamon.

The search still continues for Italian pumpkin beer.  Can Italy create a quality pumpkin brew in the likeness of U.S varieties? Will the love for this seasonal taste catch on internationally? Only more samples will tell.

Never Forget

It's stories like this that make me so thankful to be living here in Italy, to be living more in the moment rather than for the future. Financial planning has plagued Americans and likely much of the world for ages upon ages. Funny how I say "plague", like it's a bad thing.  Because obviously financial planning is NOT a bad thing.

It's actually quite good and we all know the key benefit of saving our hard-earned money... so we can use it later, so we don't have to work later.  When we are slower to get out of the car or getting out of bed, when we will someday be slower to answer the holographic image of our grand kids, what we used to know as a phone call,  projected from the ring of special bulbs coming out the center of our coffee table, the thing that will someday also be our holographic television set. All of that will be really nice when we are much older, as long as we have the money saved.  This is true.

Time for the reality check.

What if you die sooner?

A scary thought. An enlightening thought as well.  What if you worked so hard for so many years, saving all that money, never doing the things you wanted so you could do them in your retirement... but then fate catches up sooner than expected.  What are you going to think during that millisecond of time when your entire life flashes before your eyes, if it even does that? Have any regrets?

A very close friend of mine recently told me about a story. He was the best man for his friend's wedding a couple weeks ago. Everything was spectacular about the occasion, the couple couldn't be happier. After the special day, they headed to New Zealand for a truly fantastic honeymoon. Four days later, they got in a terrible car crash, killing the husband and sending the wife into a coma from which she still has not risen. Simply awful.

It's stories like that that make me thankful for everything I have.  That I have lived this long. That I have experienced so much that life has to offer. And that I'm not wasting the opportunities that are presented to my wife and I. It reminds us that life is short and no matter what, we should live it to its fullest, especially without regret.

My personal experience may not picture me as the poster-child for financial security, but I certainly can represent the other side who chose a riskier path. I'm not saying it's a better path, just riskier.  All I'm saying is the rewards are there, and they are quite different.

My friend told me words from the vigil about the newlyweds, that even though this tragedy came to them, at least this was the happiest time of their lives. Right now, I have two very close friends on their honeymoon in Aruba and I wish them nothing but the best during their celebration, and to be safe as possible. If you have friends or family traveling or just doing normal day-to-day things, don't forget to mention how much they mean to you. Don't forget to say you love someone even if it feels awkward. If you fight with your loved one, always end it making sure they know you love them. It's a morbid thought, but you never know when your time is up.  We can thank Kirsten and Kenneth for reminding us how important that is.  Religious or not, prayers and thoughts go to both of them.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2206198/Newlywed-husband-killed-wife-critical-condition-honeymoon-crash-horror-New-Zealand.html

Just Another Stroll Down the Street

Imagine walking down a busy street in Rome.

The always busy street exiting from the Spanish Steps in Rome.

The tall, classically European buildings hover their upper level apartments over your head while the ground level is dedicated to everything commercial.  Store after store goes from phone dealer to clothier, pizzeria to coffee shop.  All the while, you are dodging the slower walkers in front of you like a game of Nintendo's Rad Racer avoiding cars.

During this exciting, real life adventure, you are with a friend or two, and they too are in the throws of the battle. Where you veer left, they must veer right, or they sneak tightly through a gap when you go around the moving object.  But when you get lost in friendly conversation, things can go awry. Laughter escapes your mouth and funny thoughts clog your mind. Right when you pass a clothing store entrance ... BAM!

"Oh my goodness, miss, are you OK?" You managed to stay on your feet.  The unlucky woman, however, fell hard to the ground. You don't wait for her to answer.

"I am so sorry!" You help the petite woman up from the ground, lifting her by the arm.

"I didn't see you at all!  I am so sorry!" So far she is speechless, likely fuming from being knocked over.

Then you look the mannequin in the face.

"Oh."

And the embarrassment sets in and you sneak glances around you to see if anyone saw the ordeal. Thank goodness! No one was watching... except the store manager.

Never ever has anyone looked at you more like a grumpy bulldog. Quickly averting the death stare, your face turned cherry red, you look at the mannequin, then the manager and quickly mutter, "Sorry," and walk away faster than you ever walked in known history.

This story was based on true events. Thankfully, it wasn't my true event, but a good friend of mine who lived out in Rome for a while. In any city, big or small, things like this can happen.

Have you ever done something embarrassing in public? Share your story.

Do NOT Eat at Flavio al Velavevodetto

This past week, my little blog celebrated its 50,000th page view within about a year and a few weeks from my original start date. Because there's a chance you have stumbled on my site as a tourist looking for great places to eat in Rome, I recommend that you do NOT eat at Flavio al Velavevodetto! 

This place has received too much attention from the foodie blogs of Rome and perhaps they've become too popular for the staff to handle a heavy workload.  My wife and I used to go there because it had a good name for the food, and because it used to be a Best Budget Eat in Rome with surprisingly good and affordable dishes. But things have changed. We are locals in Rome and we will never go back and neither should you.  There are much better restaurants in Rome that will be more attentive and serve better food than Flavio al Velavevodetto.

My wife and I brought our two friends there a week ago because this had always been our go-to place for great Cucina Romana, the authentic Roman pasta dishes. We honestly went about once a month for the past nine months. The past few times before, especially in August, we noticed the food was becoming less satisfactory than the beginning experiences. Portion sizes were dramatically smaller than usual, taste of food was just ok, pasta wasn't as al dente as usual, in our eyes, it began to fail in general. We remembered the food tasting much better.

The Amatriciana at Flavio al Velavevodetto used to be so good... used to be.

Every Italian takes holiday in August so I looked over the most recent negative experience thinking the usual chefs were on vacation, that the next time would be better. September rolled around, it was a Friday night so you know the normal chefs were there and we had our worst experience yet, so bad in fact that we will never again patron this restaurant while we live in Rome and will forever recommend that people skip it if they are considering it.

It was a mix of the service and food this night. Our server forgot to bring us menus. After 10 minutes of waiting, we asked him for menus. After 10 more minutes, we asked him again. Keep in mind, he saw us often as he ran past serving food or taking other orders. Eventually, we gave up and just took them from a nearby empty table.

Next came the water and wine request. We ordered white for our friends, red for us and a bottle of water while we looked over the menu. The water came out in 5 minutes, not bad. The white wine took an additional 10 or 15 minutes and he completely forgot to bring the other carafe of red wine that we requested. And don't worry, we definitely asked at least twice for our red wine. So, more waiting and more asking where it was, and more of his saying "just a moment" in italian. 

Then the food came out.  The fried food antipasti tasted good.  That much, I was at least pleased with. Once we finished, we waited about 30 minutes for the next part of our meal which was much too long. When the primi arrived, the pasta plates, it continued going down hill. Portions were average to small, the taste was just average bordering too salty, overcooked pasta instead of al dente, nothing too pleasing.  Then the secondi came out, well, one of them, because he said he only heard us order the one meatball plate. So ten more minutes wait while we watched our friend eat her secondi, then ours came out and it was another slap in the face: a severely reduced portion of potatoes than what our friend received.  Why serve six total pieces at all when most plates serve a pile of at least twenty. The person opposite with the same plate just laughed. We ordered this dish every time we went there and knew what it usually looked like and this was not up to their standard. So we decided to talk to the staff about the terrible service that night.

Eventually we voiced all of our complaints, told them we were frequent visitors of the restaurant and he added an extra half liter of wine which when he asked if we wanted it, we said no. But he didn't comp the first half-liter, he just went and refilled it even though we didn't want it.

Then we asked for the bill. By this time, we assumed he would want us out of there too, but no, he wanted us to sit there for another 15 or 20 minutes. Awful.  So he brought out the bill and he noted that  he gave our secondi as free. We thanked him and waited for him to come back several minutes later to pick up our money. 

But when we paid the bill and he came back with our change, which was supposed to be 2 euro, he brought back only a 1 euro coin, set it on the table and walked away immediately. We looked down at it trying to remember if we read the bill incorrectly. Nope, the whole table agreed we were owed 2 euro. All we could do was laugh at the terrible experience and how spiteful the server was for questioning his terrible service and the kitchen's issues. By that time, though, we'd had enough of the battle and left without asking for our extra euro back. Enjoy the tip, pal.

I hope Flavio al Velovevodetto does something to change its ways because it has supremely become worse over the last few months. HEED MY WORDS, visitors of Rome, go someplace else if want a good Roman food experience.

An Italian Amuse Bouche for VASGO's 50,000th!

AUGURI, AUGURI! Best Wishes! It's a Celebration!

In just over a year since I began truly writing posts on this blog, around this time in 2011, I had only a couple hundred page views according to my site's statistics.

This past week, you, my wonderful, beautiful and talented readers, helped the blog surpass its 50,000 page view!

In your honor, I'd like to give you a treat designed by just VASGO himself!

Photo Source: Francesca Claybrook Photography, LLC

I made up this Italian themed Caprese Salad style amuse bouche after seeing the most perfect round pasta, called Croxetti, in the store Eataly. It's like a pasta coin with an image stamped on it and was the perfect platform for the red, white and green treat.

The tiny, grape tomatoes looked so wonderful, I knew they would provide the bold red color I needed while functioning into the dish the way I wanted.  All I had to do was slice them thin as a coin and lodge them into the sides of the center. The basil was so green and aromatic, cutting them into tiny strips really kept the colors moving around the spool of pasta. The center is what made it all happen. Once I spotted the freshly made ricotta di bufala at the store, not just normal ricotta found everywhere but ricotta with superior bufala awesomeness, I knew the design instantly of my project from beginning to end.

Drizzled with the superior cold pressed-only extra virgin olive oil (better than hot-pressed) and next to a tiny pool of sweet, 30-year aged balsamic vinegar from a micro producer in Tuscany, this just VASGO version of a gourmet Caprese made all the work worth it.

And now..... The top Ten countries, by readership:

1. United States
2. Italy
3. United Kingdom
4. Canada
5. Brazil
6. Australia
7. Germany
8. Netherlands
9. Russia
10. India

And some honorable mentions within the last few weeks: France, Greece, Israel, Guam, Libya, Finland, Japan, and Spain!

Thanks to all my international readers!  All of you are wonderful people!

Drink Coffee Like an Italian

One of my side projects this summer was to create a bunch of articles for a re-branded website all about Italy. So I turned on the old thought generator the first night while laying in bed and went deep into my world of words. What did I know about Italy? What things have been revealed about the country and their culture, habits, etc? And more specifically, what hasn't been written.

Then it came to me. No one has ever written about coffee in Italy.

The coffee at Castel Sant'Angelo is good, but expensive because of the excellent views provided.

Knowing I had the edge on my competitors, I jumped out of bed hastily in the middle of night to turn on the computer. My glasses reflected the bright login screen like a mirror and I slid easily onto the plastic chair because of my silk suit pajamas.

Before any brilliance could be accomplished, of course, I had to have a drink nearby like all the other professional writers in the world.  So I got up, lit the stove and set the tea kettle to it's task. A few minutes later, my friend, Earl Grey, and I finally sat down together. I slid back into the chair slippery as ice, opened the word processor and stared at the blinking black cursor. No words came to me, so I looked at my tea for inspiration while it sat on the local pub's borrowed beer coaster. Still nothing. Then I looked down at the distinguished, paisley pattern of my pajama suit.

The connecting powder puff ball of my silk night cap slid off its comfortable nook above and bounced off my nose, covering my eyes. I pushed it out of the way, slightly agitated, and like a blind person seeing for the first time the enlightened path of my story revealed itself.

See the epic article here - http://www.made-in-italy.com/italian-food/news/the-four-coffees-daily-ritual

And if you are in Rome, make sure to get the Best Coffee in Rome, near the Pantheon.

After that, consider purchasing some vintage paisley silk pajamas with night cap. Happy Italian coffee drinking!

A hotel near Trento, Italy makes the happiest cappuccino in Italy.

The Pope's Escape Path

In case there are any plunderers wandering about Rome, you should heed these warnings: Skip the Pope.

Long ago, when times were much less safe, a strategic Pope decided it would be smart of him to have a backup plan in the event his city fell or someone wanted to kill him.  So he commissioned builders to create a secret path that would lead him from the Vatican to his private apartments in the nearby Mausoleum of Hadrian, also known as the Castel Sant'Angelo.

The important question was how should he get there?

Underground sewers? Too dirty.
Horseback? Too visible.
The options weren't, as they say, a-plenty. (This verbiage makes me sound like a cowboy from the mid-1800s.) After all, resources were limited in the mid-1200s, a wee 800 years ago.

The answer was quite simple, really: build above ground.

So his men used the existing wall that protected the city and built on top of that. They made it stretch the full 800 or so meters, about half a mile all the way to the castle.  And thus, the Passetto di Borgo was born. From what I understand, it came in handy, as it was used a handful of times to save the life of the Pope.

Now granted, I am no scholar of history and my version of how it came to be may be a little different than the exact truth.  But what I can tell you honestly is that YOU too can walk this historical, life saving passage, just like I did.

A View of the Dome of Saint Peter's Basilica from the Passetto di Borgo.

Castel Sant'Angelo opens most of the passageway only one time a year.  For a few weeks in late July / early August, and only at night, they allow visitors to access and walk a surprising amount on the Pope's escape path.  For the cost of the entrance fee, it's worth it to first tour the castle and see some of the rooms that aren't usually open to the public, such as the rarely viewed Pope's bathroom, fancier and full of more frescoes than any bathroom I have ever experienced. Then a lovely concert among the catapults.

A concert in the Castel Sant'Angelo.

And some great views from up top.

A view of Saint Peter's Basilica from the top of Castel Sant'Angelo.

Few things in Rome are as romantic as this. At night and including a concert, this attraction is one of a kind already. But adding a jaunt on the Passetto di Borgo? Well that might just steal your heart. Consider yourself plundered.

Front view of the Castel Sant'Angelo.

Troubles at a Roman Market

My first few months living in Italy, I experienced culture shock.  To me, that term means trying to understand how life works in a culture I was unfamiliar with and the struggles that resulted from misunderstanding. Back in the States, when I went to the grocery store, I could touch every and any piece of fruit I wanted.  As an amateur but still critical gourmand, I am quite particular about trying to match the correct food to my culinary needs.  For example, various recipes might have called for riper fruit, like if I were making a banana bread or my own fruit roll ups.  Others, I would have preferred firmer, slightly ripe fruit, like if I were to grill peaches.

Just because I'm in another country doesn't mean I should change my demanding preferences (too much). Right?

Artichokes at Roman Markets can be bought whole, or cut when in season.

Let's go back to my first month in Italy, an age of blissful ignorance. I shopped occasionally at the outdoor market, where it is common to see vendors grab the fruit for you. I simply told them what I needed and in what quantity and they bagged it, weighed it, and sent me on my way.

Mostly, though, largely due to my extremely small comfort zone and inability to speak many Italian words at the time, I went to the large grocery store.  There, I did what I normally do when I purchase produce: feel the product, inspect it, trust in the fruits and vegetables I'm about to buy, and put back the ones I know are not worthy of my coin. After a few minutes of touching and evaluating the firmness/crispness of the apple selection one warm September day, which by the way when eaten raw, the crispier an apple, the better in my humble opinion, the produce guy comes over to me and chastised me like I'm his child. I had no idea what he said to me during his blizzard of words and I am confident he could not communicate it well in English. So after I replied, "What?", he decided to use words his dog would understand.

"No. No! NO!" he said as he pretended to touch all the fruit.

Buddy, you should have rubbed my nose in it so I really would have understood.

Here's my tip for tourists: don't test the produce! Some places have hand shaped plastic bags that go around your hand so you can put back a piece if necessary.  Use those instead.  Or use them to put one small apricot in each finger and see how many weird looks you can get from the locals.

I delicately set the apple back in the pile after being scolded. Fine, I pouted to myself, then I won't buy ANY of your stupid apples. Wishing I had  fluency in Italian, I walked away thinking about what I would have responded with.  Most of it was highly inappropriate for all you wonderful readers, but once I cooled down, it got me thinking.

How do you prove to someone that you are experienced enough to touch fruit and not bruise it? Secondly, how would you do it if you couldn't speak their language?  If you have a solution, I'd like to hear it below.

Best Places in Rome for Craft Beer

There are a lot of places in Rome to buy yourself a bottle of birra artigianale. The grocery store, the wine store (called the enoteca), a handful of those late night liquor store types called alimentari, and quite a few restaurants stock the delicious brews.  But what about great quality craft beer straight from the tap?

Really, they can be found at a great many pub and restaurant in Rome. Plenty of places keep one, maybe two on draught.  But that's not what you want, is it?  You're looking for variety.  You want the pub that has more than a handful of different types of good beer.  You pine for artisanal beer, the kind of brew that is hand crafted by small teams and brewed in Italy.

Look no further and trust in Vasgo's beer knowledge. The four must-visit Rome locations for quality craft beer, most of them Italian and with more taps than most pubs and restaurants, are as follows:

1. Open Baladin

Neighborhood: Campo Dei Fiori

http://www.openbaladinroma.it/

When I first went to Open Baladin, I had no idea I was going the one night of the year that they had Autumn Beer Festival.  Angels looked down on me that evening and they said, "Vasgo, you've had a rough day. We'd like to reward you." The place is fairly large and the taps, well, let's just say, to the craft beer connoisseur, anything over 20 taps is epic. This should put it into perspective for you: Open Baladin in Rome employs the use of 43 taps.  They serve a lot of beer from Italy, and plenty more from the rest of the world.  I've never eaten here, but I hear the food is good but a little expensive for the value.

2. Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa

Neighborhood: Trastevere

http://football-pub.com/ (I'll never know why they chose this as their domain name)

Unfortunately, I have no photo to share of my experiences here. I first heard about this hole in the wall pub during my tour of Belgium.  I was in Brussels at one of the best beer pubs in the city, Moeder Lambic. After careful evaluation of their 20+ beers on draught, I told the bartender I was from Rome and he asked me if I'd ever been to Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa.  Once he learned I'd never heard of it, he insisted that I go.  The two pubs sometimes work in cahoots, bringing delicious beers from their respective countries to their various local festivals. 

Every time I enter the tiny pub, Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa, I choose between six stools in the front section and a handful of tables in the back room. It's obviously not designed for large crowds.  It's ideal for beer lovers that want to order and step outside to watch the tourists pass by.  The bartenders are nice, their knowledge of the English language is usually good enough and their beer selection is great with 12+ taps. It's particularly a great spot to go because directly across the street and one store over is their competitor, my number three choice for excellent craft beer on tap, Bir & Fud. 

3. Bir & Fud

Neighborhood: Trastevere

No true website. Found at Via Benedetta, 23, Rome 00153

With about 15 taps on deck, Bir & Fud has a great selection, a small outdoor seating area in front and plenty of inside space for you and your pals to go once you've stood around at Ma Che Siete Venuti A Fa for 30 minutes.  It's been a while since I have been here, but the first time I was there, I wrote about it in better detail.  See my article Ode to Craft Brew for more information about that experience.

4. Eataly

Neighborhood: Ostiense (*Insider Tip*: You will get there fastest by walking through Ostiense train station, under the tracks to the other side.) 

http://www.roma.eataly.it/

If you know Eataly, the worldwide grocery chain offering regional Italian product, you'll know it's an amalgamation of part mall food court, part high-end grocery store and part learning center. In Rome, it's a multi-floor establishment with kitchen classes, art exhibits, restaurants, coffee bars, bakery, every department of a grocer, and the one surprising addition, an onsite microbrewery. If my memory serves right, they operate up to four batches at a time in those large stainless steel vats. In the pub section, they offer a selection of 8 craft beers on draught, at least a couple from their own brewery at any given time. Reader beware: Avoid the fried tortellini happy hour snack.  It sounds and looks good on the advertisement out front, but looks and tastes not so good in reality. Dried out, seemingly stale even after being deep fried, they are not worth the money, and unfortunately, they summarize the experience of all Eataly's fried food offerings.  Don't say I didn't warn you. 

But you're not at their pub for the food court-quality meals. You're there for the air conditioning, and the great selection of Italian craft brew.

Cheers!

Rainbow Magicland, Rome's Amusement Park

As a surprise to my Cultural Coordinator, the art historian in my life, I took my wife to a place as un-cultural as it gets: an amusement park.  I thought it would be a good change of pace.

The surprise was difficult to hide because how do you prepare someone for a day of roller coasters, stunt shows, rapid rides and men dressed up in sea horse costumes? My description was something along the lines of, "Make sure you wear sandals, but not your nice ones.  And dress up assuming you are going to be really sweaty ." That statement got the weird look that makes me instantly retract what I said.

"I mean to say, there's not a lot of tree coverage where we are going.  Dress like you are going hiking, but we aren't going hiking."

And then the series of lies begin to try and throw her off the scent.  There might be a waterfall, or a little stream, there might be a church, paintings, a museum.  I said anything I could to prepare her but still throw her off where our final destination would be.

In the end, I gave too many hints and when she joked asking if where we were going had a log flume, I lost it in laughter. She knew instantly that there was indeed a water ride.

Two, specifically. A rapids ride and a big boat plunging into water ride that creates a tidal wave. Both equally good at getting soaked on a hot summer day.

Le Rapide

Rainbow Magicland, the two year old amusement park 45 minutes by train from Rome.  The name for the park is incredibly elementary.  When I first heard of it, I instantly thought super happy kid land, particularly for little girls.  But then I went to the website and saw some of the rides they had to offer.

A big draw to spending a day here was knowing that all the rides were brand new.  Two years old for a ride is young! And that meant they likely used all the latest technologies to make smooth, fun and hopefully energetic rides out there. It also didn't hurt that they reduced the admission fee by what round-trip train tickets cost from Rome to Valmontone.

The park itself was fun.  Sure, it's small compared to some of the monster parks like Disney, but it makes getting to all the rides faster. The place is clearly armed for expansion with a wide open, shallow lake and plenty of empty corners.  The exterior detail put into each ride and the storefronts are truly impressive.  On one ride, I thought I was entering an M.C. Escher ride. it was particularly enjoyable.

Cagliostro

Their main thrill coaster was truly spectacular and worth going on several times.  Easily my favorite ride, Shock goes fast, gives air time, does a couple fantastic twists and completes a round in 22 seconds.

This was taken from one of those rides that go up way high and then let you free fall for a couple seconds... always a fun thrill ride and great for seeing the park in all its greatness.

And the stunt show really impressed us.

I could do that if I really wanted to. Oh wait, have to own a car first.

The men wearing sea horse costumes were a bit strange, but then again, you're in a Magicland described solely as Rainbow.

What type of Magicland is it? Rainbow.

It was also my first time trying a Wurstel pizza, a surprising combination which, even more surprising, is quite common on Roman pizza menus.

That's right.  Hot dog and french fry pizza. More delicious than you think.

All in all, for a ridiculous name, this amusement park was great fun. The Maison Houdini ride deserves special honors because it literally messed with my mental orientation. Many times, I could not figure out which way I was moving, if I was moving.  So entertaining. It was worth the long wait in line.

Bombo, Shock, Maison Houdini and Cagliostro were my favorite four rides. I know you'll love them too if you ever take a trip out to Valmontone, Italy.