I get cranky when a meal doesnt go my way back at home. I tend to get very quiet, and everyone at the table usually knows it at some point no matter how hard I try to hide it. But when it happens on vacation, its closer to a clinical depression. After months of preparations, somehow I picked a place that just served me cardboard flavored crostini. I start to doubt my research abilities and sometimes even change plans to maximize probabilities. On my last trip, midpoint, I cancelled all remaining hotel dining, even though I read nothing but good things about them.
Thankfully the bad meals were few and far between. The only quibble was that some of the really good ones were very early in their respective legs. So when we came across similar dishes in the region we were often disappointed. Such was the case with L’oste di Borgo in the picture perfect Tuscan town of Colle di Val d’Elsa. Our first meal in Tuscany this time set the bar maybe a little too high.
Finding L’oste di Borgo is easy. Enter the main gate (Porta Nuova) and walk until you see the first evidence of life conversing with other life. The young couple that took over the space not too long ago runs the place like a well-oiled machine. If you are in a rush, this place is probably not for you. Its “Slow Food” in every sense. From the wait, to the explanation of the 0 km ingredients (or 5 to be exact), and the enjoyment. When things taste this good, three hour meals are pure joy. When its not, its pure Tortura.
The mixed appetizer platter is nothing short of a triumph, especially once you compare it to other places. Fresh, local, peppery Salami, silky Prosciuto, Crostini with liver and lardo, fruits, various spreads and more. Impeccable attention to raw material. Then comes an expertly prepared, Piemonte style, hand chopped Beef Tartare. Not the prized Chianina but who cares when it tastes so good. There was also a fine chicken, and Tagliata, but get the Tartare.
The Pici Cacio e Pepe was another big hit, and most likely best I ever had. We enthusiastically ordered three more of this during this trip and they never got quite as peppery or creamy. But the most interesting dish was the Paccheri coated with a Scamerita ragu. Thats a white ragu of the back of the pork neck. Only in Italy we experience such flavor from such little meat. And only in Italy you can wash it all down with a nice dry red litter for the price of a NY glass. One of our new favorites in Tuscany.
What is the perfect base? Its not rocket science. Put your destination stars on the map, and pick something in the middle. The only decision is whether it will be a city, a town, village, or something in the countryside like a villa or Agriturismo. You’ll find many advantages and disadvantages with all options. Thats why mixing it up a little works for many.
Just when you thought the East Village Chinese food scene can not possibly get any better, or lacking in any area, comes Jiang Diner representing Xinjiang province. Its beginning to look a lot like a Chinese geography lesson, and the formation of the East Village silk road that strongly resembles the real thing. Roughly between 5th and 12th street, one can now visit Xinjiang, dose on lamb and cumin in Xi’an, and bath in the silky noodles of Dunhuang. I may be missing a place or three in the plethora of Chinese eateries in the area, but this pilgrimage alone should keep your belly happy for a few hours.
Caterina Campodonico was a peasant that worked hard selling necklaces made of nuts and loafs of breads. Before she died in 1882, she was determined to show her legacy by hiring the most expensive sculptor around, Lorenzo Orengo, and a poet to build her monument. In order to do that she had to sell a lot of nut necklaces and save all her profits. So its easy to see why the “Peanut Seller” in the magnificent Staglieno cemetery in Genoa, became a symbol for the hard working people of Genoa. In the pictures below you can see her proudly wearing one of her necklaces.
If you walk around the village of Bevagna in Umbria looking for a place to eat, Antiche Sere might be the last place you’ll pick. Sort of like picking Thai food in Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. I think my group was hoping I made a mistake when we finally reached it. “Are you positive this is it? From the parking lot we passed more inviting places. Like, all of them. And there are about 10 spots higher on Trip Advisor in a town with 11 restaurants”. They said none of this out loud of course. They trust me and learned to follow me like the sheep in the anarchist logo surrounding the “A” in Antiche.
This being my first Umbria post means the end result was quite positive. One of the most complete meals of a two week trip in fact. As soon as you walk in, you feel more at ease once you see the funky space. You walk by a small kitchen where you see the proud anarchist owner washing dishes, so at least you know the dishes will be clean. And while the anarchist doesnt speak much English it seams, there’s a young friendly Indian waiter that does.
Started with a delicious Chickpeas and clams soup. Clams from Ancora and local chickpeas much sturdier and more flavorful than what we are used to (Goya). This is one of the lone places we encountered in Umbria that gets fresh seafood on occasion. Panzanella salad with soaked bread, tomato, celery and some very good vinegar was refreshing on a hot day. Simply grilled beefy local mushrooms. Eggplant parmigiana was another winner. And an exceptional oversized cappelletti pasta with cheese and tomato sauce.
One of the joys of road tripping in Italy’s countryside for us is listening to the local radio. While we try to catch some Italian tunes that match the mood, we often find catchy American songs that we either never get at our local stations for some reason, or they sound a little different (ie explicit to us). It started years ago when we discovered that Bruno Mars actually wanted to be a Billionaire “So fuckin bad”. Who knew?
“What, no Seafood?!? No problem, I give you Octopus!” No, I didnt crash a Greek wedding, nor have I actually heard this said before. It was simply the pre-trip imagination at work, anticipating yet another seafood heavy leg. I imagined after 10 fishfull days, we stumble onto a small family Konoba somewhere on the Istrian coast, begging an English speaking baka (a Croatian Babushka) for some meat. But luckily for us, not only we never really got tired of those Adriatic c
Evidence of the “Pierogies/Vareniki Belt” can still be found on 2nd ave in East Village, dating back to the late 19th century when Ukrainian and Polish immigrants started flocking the area. Less than a quarter of the 100,000 at the peak, still remain, and the percentage of the Pierogi shops dwindled even more. We are down to Little Poland near east 12th, the Pierogi speakeasy of Streecha on 7th, and the Pierogi kingdom of Veselka, arguably the most famous and popular Ukrainian in the country. I may be forgetting one or three.
Eating With Ziggy 