$280 for a Pasta Dish in a Rome Restaurant? · 1 day ago by James Martin
If you’ve followed me on twitter, you already know of a Japanese couple who were charged euro695 for a meal at an expensive and well-established restaurant in Rome.
Every once in a while you hear these kinds of stories about Italian restaurants. A waiter suggests something, a customer bites, and the charge is astronomical, a rip-off made possible because at no time was price mentioned. In this case, not only were the charges much higher than the published menu price but a “tip” was added to the bill (which should never be the case in Italy) so the restaurant was (temporarily) shut down.
The Japanese couple did the right thing. They went to the police. (I’m assuming they questioned the bill at the restaurant first).
I live in a rural area of Italy. People depend upon each other in the Lunigiana. Someone who would rip anyone off wouldn’t last long in these parts.
Thus, when I’m at home in the Lunigiana, I almost never consult a restaurant menu. Many restaurants don’t even have menus here. You get what the cook wants to cook, mostly dependent upon what’s fresh in the local markets. If you’re Italian restaurant savvy, you find out what’s fresh and good by yacking a while about the food with the waiter (See: Ordering Good Food in Italy).
I seldom spend more than Euro 25 for a meal—including wine in the Lunigiana. I certainly have never spend Euro 140 for a bottle of “Sauvignon”. Heck, I wouldn’t pay that for a case. I seldom ask for a price unless what’s offered seems rare and is likely to be expensive. I’ve never been ripped off under these conditions.
But big, tourist cities? Well, that’s another story.
So what advice to give travelers? First of all, you can get ripped off anywhere on earth, as you know. So, if you find yourself in unfamiliar territory it’s good to consult the waiter to find out what’s good, but don’t be afraid to ask the price. Keep in mind that price can be based on weight in Italy (Tuscany’s famous Bistecca alla Fiorentina is almost always charged based on the weight in fractions of a kilo, for example), so be sure to ask about typical portion size, especially if you’re on a budget. And remember the weight is “before cooking” so things can shrink a bit.
It is illegal for a restaurant in Italy to not give you an itemized bill or receipt. It’s called a ricevuta fiscale. You can learn what’s supposed to be on an Italian Restaurant Receipt and see a typical one by following the link. Do not leave a restaurant without one.
But believe me, my experience tells me that these kinds of things are rare these days in Italy. I’ve actually been ripped off many more times in my neighborhood in San Francisco than I have in Italy. I even know a restaurant I love for its breakfasts but will never return to. Why? Because I’ve never been there when they didn’t overcharge me. When I mention that the bill is wrong they snap it from my fingers and fix it without consulting me about exactly what I’m protesting. The hassle just became too much to deal with.
I mean there’s only so much cat and mouse you can play—and who wants those kinds of things in a restaurant?
Filed in: Food Italy Travel Tips
Two Kinds of Blue: Wordless Wednesday · 2 days ago by James Martin
Filed in: General
Live Like an Italian? Orto, Schmorto · 7 days ago by James Martin
I don’t know what it is about Italy, but I do know that Italy has rubbed off on me. You see, each year we spend many hours on our Italian balcony (on days whose numbers are dictated by the phase of the moon) watching tanned and toned Enrico wrestle the soil beneath us into a vegetable garden, an orto of monumental proportions, lettuces here, beans there, zucchini flowering at the perifery, tomatoes snug in their little tripods.
So this year Martha bought the lot adjacent to our California home. I can tell you why. It was a garden, an orto of similar proportions to Enrico’s. It has a shed, a chicken coop, a watering system (disconnected, its tawdry tubes proudly erect, clacking together in the evening breezes). Grapes of an indeterminate type tangle tantalizingly on the trellis.
So this morning, the first morning of our ownership, I, like Enrico, turned the soil by hand in the corner of the garden that still had shade. I felt my flab ripple. Just a little. I felt the sun on my ample forehead. It was hot.
But, for a moment I was a gardener. Or at least I was the one who did the earth moving. Martha will plant the seeds. It is a reversal of the usual dictates of gender.
I will soon be picking little things to eat out of my garden. Or, that is the, ahem, dream. Actually, it is supposed to be over 100 degrees for a while, which means pretty much everything in and near the garden will likely commit suicide, except for the gardeners and probably a few sassy gophers.
But it’s a start. By the time we pay somebody to build a fence, fix the watering system, and trim the fruit trees I’ll have so many tomatoes in my garden I’ll have to start selling them.
Anybody want a $500 tomato? Eating like an Italian doesn’t come cheap you know.
Filed in: Living in Italy Food
A View of Bassano del Grappa · 8 days ago by James Martin
I’ve been a little behind on the blog, being that this is only my second day home from Italy, so I thought I’d do an easy thing, and put up a picture I liked. This is the classic view of Bassano del Grappa in the Veneto region taken from the Ponte degli Alpini, a famous wooden bridge designed by Palladio in 1569.
I had a great time in the Veneto, so expect more from me on this subject. I know nobody wants to go there, but I don’t know why, so I figure you smoke them out with hard evidence of the charms of the place.
And, in this case, there’s also the Poli grappa museum, which is really quite entertaining. And it’s free, which doesn’t hurt either.
Filed in: Italy Travel General
It's Clean out the Fridge Time · 15 days ago by James Martin
Tomorrow we leave our humble abode for Bassano del Grappa, then on to Austria for a few (evidently rainy) days, and finally to Frankfurt, where the big steel tube will carry us to the US. That means it’s the last supper in the Luniagiana. For a while.
I’ve already had the appetizer. Yes, I sliced a few thin strips of Armando’s Lardo and laid it reverently on some very dry toast. I nibbled and washed it down with an artisanal beer made near here, in the Garfagnana, out of farro: La Petrognola. It’s like a sweet stout. Good for cooking; we found it in a stewed chicken we had in Lucca, and just had to ask. A few years ago farro was just about gone from menus, but today is starting to appear in everything.
Martha is removing all the cheeses we have yet to eat from the fridge. They are numerous and, in some cases, colorful—or at least more colorful than they were when we bought them. We will dig through them. There will be prized bits to eat. There is also some salami for the red meat eaters present (which would be me).
We’ve had our “real” meal at Feudo dei Malaspina in Pallerone. Pasta with porcini, then stuffed vegetables and spinaci al burro for me, spaghetti with lemon and ricotta for Martha, with a second of grilled chicken and the spinach. So, we don’t have to eat much.
It is a sad dinner. But I like it when we clean out the fridge and make a meal out of the better bits. It’s a challenge and a closure.
If you are not tired of hearing about lardo, here’s something I found that I like: You’ll gain weight just looking at this post. Lardo
Filed in: Food Living in Italy
We Won a Torta! · 17 days ago by James Martin
Ok, I figure we’re finally socially acceptable. We’ve won the torta you see all dolled up in transparent frippery over there in the left.
It went like this. We were in the car a couple nights ago with Armando, who, as you remember if you have enough spare time you don’t mind wasting reading this blog, was singing in the Lunigiana chorus over at Terrarossa castle.
Armando informed us that this was a charity concert. Evidently there’s a network of folks here in the Lunigiana, many of them nuns, who work with unfortunate children in countries the developed world could care less about because they don’t do adequate trade or hobnob with our power figures enough. Poor ones, in other words.
Well, it turns out that between Martha and I we had exactly 1 bill between us. €50. No change. We were worried.
So we sat three hours at the concert, hearing enough free music to sate us, especially as I had lost the feeling in my buttocks. Then they herded us downstairs, where there was enough food to feed the army my father was always going on about. We ate. For free.
So, when I saw the donation basket, I kinda felt obligated. After all, it was my adapted community. So, I did what any red-blooded American would do with the €50 I had.
I asked for change.
It took nearly all they had, a sad fact in itself. Then I gave them €20 back. The old women manning the basket nearly swooned. I though maybe they thought I was being some kinda pretentious rich foreigner for a minute, then they suddenly started stuffing numerous and uncounted raffle tickets in our hands as if the torn off strips of paper were incriminating evidence and the cops were on the way. We had no idea there was a raffle.
So we stuffed the raffle tickets in Francesca’s hand—Armando’s wife—telling her to win something for us. We were heading home. It was, after all, nearing midnight and we were early risers. Well, I’m an early riser anyway.
The next morning Francesca shows up with the prize. So I’ve won an Italian raffle. Well, third prize anyway. We distributed bits of the torta to our little community on the hill. I feel like a king.
I wondered for a while what first prize was. Now I wonder if women can “man” a basket. I wish I was better at English.
Filed in: Food Living in Italy
Shooting the Piemonte Rapids in a Cardboard Boat · 17 days ago by James Martin
I think it’s pretty safe to say that wine is more popular in Piemonte than river rapids. Even as someone who spends considerable time in Tuscany, I tip my hat to Piemonte wine. It’s the best.
But Piemonte does have rushing water. And what do you do with rushing water—especially if you’re Italian and weaned on Ferrari juice? You travel down it at breakneck speeds. If you’re a real man, you go down it in a cardboard box.
It was via a tweet from @campariman that I first heard of Carton Rapid Race. Only the title is in English, but here’s the gist. You get a couple hours to build a “boat” outta cardboard, then you race it down the rapids in a time trial.
You better be thinking of your boat design. The race is the 4th and 5th of July.
Here’s a video of the thing. Just in case you think everyone in Piemonte just swirls and sniffs.
Filed in: Italy Festivals Italy Travel
Infiorata in Brugnato Video · 19 days ago by James Martin
Yesterday the Infiorata del Corpus Domini was held in the Ligurian village of Brugnato, which is so pretty, even without flower carpets, that it has been named one of the borghi piu bella d’Italia.
So, we made the half hour drive out to Brugnato and took some pictures and made a video of the production of carpets made artistically with flower petals.
Enjoy the video, especially if you like flowers: Video of the Infiorata del Corpus Domini in Brugnato, Italy
Filed in: Italy Festivals Italy Travel Tips