The handsome, perspiring gondolier cheerfully explained the day’s primi (appetizer) and secondi (main course) before taking our order. Wandering just off St. Mark’s Square in Venice, in the midst of throngs of tourists awaiting gondola rides in the humid, 100 degree heat, I noticed a nondescript open door set back from the canal. Curious, I thought—if this was a restaurant, it might provide a memorable experience. Indeed, it was one of the highlights of the trip to Venice. The male owner gestured for us to be seated while serving two tables filled with gondoliers and another table with local, smartly-dressed women. With no written menus, the owner shared the daily offerings. Due to our limited Italian, even hand signals were not enough to understand the day’s menu. To the rescue came a gondolier who sprung from his seat, translated the menu options, took our order and served us our wine! As more locals entered, each immediately went behind the small bar and retrieved water, wine or sodas. In the meantime our food was being skillfully cooked by the owner’s mother in the small kitchen in the back. Keeping a watchful eye over the family’s osteria is the Nona (grandma) whose large picture hangs in a prominent position near the entrance. The wafting aroma of garlic and fresh herbs signaled the impending arrival of our meals. The homemade pastas, grilled chicken and lamb were simple, yet delectable, the hallmark of good Italian cuisine. The locals appeared to be running tabs, but we settle “il cuonto” with cash, as no credit cards are taken. I don’t recall the name of the establishment and couldn’t find it on any restaurant websites or travel resources. Even if I knew its name, I wouldn’t reveal the location of this local gem.
More Altea Food Porn (aka Food for those who are offended)
19 Jul
Mixed seafood: Calle Segovia, Sevilla
Visual Valencia
7 AprWhen my youngest son was visiting for the summer, we took a trip to nearby Valencia, the third largest city and Spain and the capital of the autonomous community of Valencia (Comunitat Valenciana, in the local Valenciana dialect.) Valencia was founded as a Roman colony in 138 BC, and has historical ruins from the Roman and Arab occupations. I have also shared my recommendations in a blog post of the top 10 things to do in Valencia. But now, I want to share the visual delights of Valencia, from the beautiful historic buildings, the Lonja de la Seda (Silk Exchange, built between 1482 and 1548, a UNESCO World Heritage Site), the mind-boggling architecture of the City of Arts and Sciences designed in part by native-born Santiago Calatrava, and, of course, street entertainers, and food at restaurants and in the famous Mercat Central (Valenciana for Central Market.)
MEETING PAUL BOCUSE
21 JanThere we were-unexpectedly personally greeted by Paul Bocuse at his eponymous restaurant as we ducked in from the sudden downpour. As a dedicated foodie, I was determined to make the pilgrimage to Paul Bocuse’s L’Auberge du Pont de Collonges near Lyon. If you are a lover of French food, he needs no introduction. His accomplishments and accolades are many including being named the “Chef of the Century” by the esteemed Culinary Institute of America at their Leadership Awards Gala on March 30, 2011. We had reservations for my son’s 21st birthday. Up to that point we had enjoyed a fabulous week in Paris, with fantastic food including the famed pressed duck at Tour D’Argent and many types of offal.
Once we got to Lyon, we sampled the delicious, hearty traditional cuisine Lyonnaise in the many convivial bouchons, all the while anticipating our evening at Paul Bocuse. We were surprised at the distance the restaurant was from the city, but enjoyed the cab ride through the countryside. When we arrived, we saw an unexpectedly colorful exterior on the building. Just as we were exiting the cab, the rain suddenly poured from the dark clouds. We huddled under umbrella provided by restaurant staff and scurried toward the entrance.
Once inside, we were immediately greeted by Paul Bocuse who shook our hands. I am not the least enamored by movie or sports celebrities, but I was so moved at personally meeting Paul Bocuse that I was speechless. Then I stupidly bowed to him and started crying. Everything that night from the food and beverages to the service were impeccable. I had labored through the French menu with my limited French, but my fluent son had no such problem. As we were leaving, they offered us a souvenir menu, which I took in English; it just didn’t seem right, though, to order from anything but a French menu at the venerable Paul Bocuse.