That’s the amount of time I recommend spending in Florence if the purpose of the trip is to leave your kid there to study. Because not many humans can stomach more than 48 warnings and suggestions on how to secure your personal belongings. Thats roughly 48 dad warnings, followed by half a dozen mom snap-backs at dad. Even monks, and pickpockets at some point go “Alora, enough already. As long as she doesnt have Cappuccino after 10 she’ll be fine”. But I digress. A little early this time.
If you’ve been to Florence before, and you dream about seeing naked David again, prepare for a shock if you are returning anytime soon. Post Covid revenge travel is real, as everyone’s mom, neighbor, and accountant is talking about travelling to Italy these days. We arrived to Florence from “Florence of the south”, Lecce. As popular as Lecce was, Florence made Lecce feel like a remote sleepy hill village. Even the taxis had trouble navigating the crowds. I imagine Rome and Venice are not much different these days.
But Florence is still Florence, and there’s only one Florence. Even the Florence of the south is nothing like Florence of the north. Art, monuments, amazing food, and history on display particularly at the time of our visit. When you see a makeshift stadium built in front of Santa Croce, it can be one of two things. Either a Taylor Swift request was lost in translation, or its Calcio Storico time. Luckily for us it was the latter and we managed to score tickets to one of the semifinals. If you are not familiar with Calcio Storico, Ask Jeeves can probably explain better than Football, Wrestling, Rugby, Kick Boxing, and Couch Potato (When one sits on an an opponent back for 20 minutes for some reason) combined into one. Its one of those events that would never be allowed in the US.
When you revisit such cities, you often revisit a favorite place. To me that place in Florence is Da Ruggero, a quintessential trattoria passed from generation to generation, firmly outside of the tourist route. Traditional Tuscan food doesnt get much better than this. The Tuscan Crostini has quite a bit more oomph than the typical version you find all over the region. Some consider the Pappa al Pomodoro the best in town. Loved introducing my kid to it in between warnings. Salumi, outrageous as always. And the pastas, seemingly so little effort, and yet so much flavor. My happy place in Florence.
Since our accommodations this time were at the roomy and peaceful Residenza Marchesi Pontenani near Gladiator arena (Santa Croce), it was hard to avoid the craziness surrounding All’Antico Vinaio these days. On my last visit, roughly 8 years ago, All’Antico Vinaio was just another good sandwich shop. Today its the L’As du Fallafel of Florence and then some. They practically took over an entire block with multiple lines, police directing traffic, teens posing with the overstuffed sandwiches for selfies, and countless picnicking on the curb. I wasnt even tempted to try it. Ok, maybe a little. But I had other plans…
When in Bistecca city, you just have to have the, you guessed it, Gelato. Its not just a matter of which Gelato, but how many times a day. My old rule of picking anything that begins with “Car” is in serious jeopardy now that Carapina is no more. Though Carabè is still going strong. But on this trip, I settled on another old fave, Gelateria dei Neri where I ate three times in two days. EWZ historians tell me its a new EWZ record. The only unforced error was that only one of the tries was the sick Ricotta and Fig combo.
I had other plans for dinner that evening. But when we checked out the place that shall remain nameless earlier, we got a slight bad vibe. Plan B however turned out to be a smashing success. Nugolo is a little far from traditional Tuscan. In fact its closer to what one can find in Paris. But I was intrigued by it after seeing its name pop on the excellent Girl in Florence. And FOMO completed when Nugolo was featured on Stanley Tucci’s new show on CNN before it even opened.
At Nugolo the decor is smart, colorful, playful, and really so is the food to match. The rabbit ragu for instance comes hiding beneath the Risotto for a lasting, milky spoonful. Another clever combination was the slow cooked egg (64 degrees) inside a kataifi nest, with green peas and potato foam, and pancetta. Fresh pasta in a form of “Bottoni” are just that, buttons, stuffed with red potatoes and ‘nduja, and topped with broth of mussels and wild rocket (Arugula) sauce. The Beef tartare was probably the lone forgettable dish. Monkfish, taccole beans, pine nut cream and crusco peppers was superb. So was the Veal’s cheek with potato gratin, Borettane onions and cashews. Every fatty and tender meat cut should come with Borettane onions. A simple but very solid Tarte Tarine capped a memorable meal.
You will see Mercato Centrale recommended in every guide book and Florence FB group, rightfully so. But it took me all those years to realize that Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio, the locals choice is the real deal. They are only a 20 minute walk apart. We tried mainly some fruits, bread, cheese and salami, and one particular salami stood out. Good, spicy salami is my weakness. At a vendor right off the middle western entrance, the Salame Spagnolo had that “come to papa” color, and the flavor had just the right balance.
In Florence, being the outdoor museum that it is, I opted not to brave the crowds at museums and churches this time. But it would feel like an incomplete trip without another visit to Abbazia di San Miniato al Monte. The atmosphere surrounding it, views off and of it, the cemetery, simply mesmerizing. Still feels like a secret considering the lack of crowds. You can find them all in Piazzale Michelangelo down the road. A more pleasant visit to the area would involve taking a taxi or bus to Miniato, walk down to the Piazzale, and down through the gardens toward the river for numerous selfie opps.
Even with only 48 hours, I could not leave Bistecca city without having the Bistecca. To me its like going to Mexico City and not having a taco. But with some of the old faves like Sostanza closed on Sundays, picking the right place was a challenge. I’m a serial researcher when it comes to food, but picking a good Bistecca in Florence is almost like throwing darts at a map. It dominates almost every review page to the point that none of the restaurants in Florence can afford to offer a bad cut, or not have it available. I cant think of any other city in the world with a similar situation. Segovia and its famous suckling pig comes close, but not quite.
I ended up picking Parione, and as expected turned out to be just what the gastro doc ordered. Its touristy alright, but you get a sense that just enough locals frequent it. The eggs with truffles didnt quite do it for me. The Picci did. The Bistecca while bluer than I remember did not taste like it needed to be cooked more. Supremely flavorful, buttery, slightly funky with just the right seasoning. If you havent perfected the Bistecca art at this point, you would have been in serious trouble. The one mystery here however was the total lack of seasoning on the beans. Did the old Pisa salt tax ban tradition extend to beans as well?
Wayla, Wayan, Wayo. Confusing times for Google these days. Most confusing since Ilili, Leyla, Lilia, and Laila. I’m not making any of this up. These are all names of restaurants in NYC that sound and spell alike, and some of them opened around the same time. Naming your restaurant is as important as naming your child. I remember spending countless of 
Eating With Ziggy 