Where Italian foodies gorge
I had 2 amazing runs in Venice: one from our hotel, along the waterfront to the bridge to the mainland, and one with Julian from Piazza San Marco to the naval academy. The last was an attempt at a long run and after days of taking the vaporetto everywhere, it was lovely to just run next to the vaporetto, seeing where they went, taking in the salty air, the relaxed locals, the unusual sights. Unfortunately, it made us a little late getting to Bologna.
We went to Bologna mostly through a years-ago social media accident: Julian's ex-wife had an Internet friend who lived there and so they went and discovered where Italian foodies flock. Even the tourist trap across from the big church had tortelloni stuffed with ham and smothered in cream that made me want to stay there forever. AISOFB, while in Bologna, I developed a theory that American processed foods like Hamburger Helper and baloney developed bc immigrant children wanted a (simple) taste of home and/or companies wanted to introduce tasty foods without shocking undeveloped palates.
Julian's friend picked us up at the hotel and gave us a magnificent tour of his well-loved hometown, telling us the history of the main square and through Santo Stefano. I don't know that we'd've made it to the latter without him, but it was fascinating to see how several churches were merged into one unit. Julian's guidebook effused about Bologna, but told us very little of what to do there. I don't think I could give such a good tour of my hometown or even NYC. Then he drove us to Monteveglio so we could have dinner at Osteria Clo' Filomena. We started with a plate of 3 pastas: I want to say one was butter and sage, one was tortelloni stuffed with awesomeness, and the last was tagliatelle bolognese. Then they brought out platters of meat and cheese, with 2 kinds of bread - crespe(sp?), which were fried puffed bread not dissimilar to poori, and one that was like blini - and we went to town. It was delicious.
I have had amazing hotel breakfasts in Vietnam, in Ecuador, and elsewhere: the one in Bologna makes it impossible to talk about anywhere else. I have 21 pictures of the spread, which included blood orange juice, 6 varieties of loose tea, a buffet spread of charcuterie and cheese, custard stuffed croissants, and the freshest eggs you didn't fetch yourself etc. My theory on Bologna is that the rich merchants during the prosperous period demanded a certain quality of food, which was available from the nearby farms, and they never lost the taste for it. We finished at about 11:30, but were able to put off lunch with Julian's friend until 12:30. Thank goodness.
While trying to walk up an appetite, we passed a store selling beautiful leather goods. One of the nice things about travelling with my gay boyfriend is that he notices things like how blue-brown bridge pieces seem to be "in" in Italy: my new scarf ring is blue-brown - and I am still kicking myself for not buying a bag from Creazioni Cremonini. In my defense, I thought I'd see better in Milan and wasn't quite ready to bring back 2 multi-hundred euro handbags; I was so wrong.
Julian's friend showed us around his office and took us on another walk through town, showing us the famed university, before taking us to his former lunch spot. It's the sort of place that tourists wander into and hate, bc there was no menu and the owner doesn't speak English. We started with another tri-pasta plate, which would've been plenty, but Julian's friend insisted we had to try the filet Marconi, invented for the inventor's centennial. It was pork wrapped in eggy spinach and covered in more pork and cream. Julian and I shared one -- and I still couldn't eat more than half. Thank goodness we cleansed the palate with a brilliant limoncello instead of dessert. After spending 2 meals and the better part of a day with Julian's friend, this Italian lawyer and I finally connected on the topic of strategy games and Civil War history. *bangs head on desk repeatedly*
We parted company so he could go back to work and we could be tourists. The museums were closed on the Monday, so we wandered around, mostly groaning at the sight of food and looking for t-shirts for our male relatives. We could not find a single t-shirt in the entire city, until we went to the official tourist office in the main piazza.
Barcelona was lovely, but we had the beauties of Venice to lure us on. Venice was wonderful, but we had the food of Bologna to lure us on. The only reason I ever left Bologna was bc I'd die if I ever ate again. On to Milan!
We went to Bologna mostly through a years-ago social media accident: Julian's ex-wife had an Internet friend who lived there and so they went and discovered where Italian foodies flock. Even the tourist trap across from the big church had tortelloni stuffed with ham and smothered in cream that made me want to stay there forever. AISOFB, while in Bologna, I developed a theory that American processed foods like Hamburger Helper and baloney developed bc immigrant children wanted a (simple) taste of home and/or companies wanted to introduce tasty foods without shocking undeveloped palates.
Julian's friend picked us up at the hotel and gave us a magnificent tour of his well-loved hometown, telling us the history of the main square and through Santo Stefano. I don't know that we'd've made it to the latter without him, but it was fascinating to see how several churches were merged into one unit. Julian's guidebook effused about Bologna, but told us very little of what to do there. I don't think I could give such a good tour of my hometown or even NYC. Then he drove us to Monteveglio so we could have dinner at Osteria Clo' Filomena. We started with a plate of 3 pastas: I want to say one was butter and sage, one was tortelloni stuffed with awesomeness, and the last was tagliatelle bolognese. Then they brought out platters of meat and cheese, with 2 kinds of bread - crespe(sp?), which were fried puffed bread not dissimilar to poori, and one that was like blini - and we went to town. It was delicious.
I have had amazing hotel breakfasts in Vietnam, in Ecuador, and elsewhere: the one in Bologna makes it impossible to talk about anywhere else. I have 21 pictures of the spread, which included blood orange juice, 6 varieties of loose tea, a buffet spread of charcuterie and cheese, custard stuffed croissants, and the freshest eggs you didn't fetch yourself etc. My theory on Bologna is that the rich merchants during the prosperous period demanded a certain quality of food, which was available from the nearby farms, and they never lost the taste for it. We finished at about 11:30, but were able to put off lunch with Julian's friend until 12:30. Thank goodness.
While trying to walk up an appetite, we passed a store selling beautiful leather goods. One of the nice things about travelling with my gay boyfriend is that he notices things like how blue-brown bridge pieces seem to be "in" in Italy: my new scarf ring is blue-brown - and I am still kicking myself for not buying a bag from Creazioni Cremonini. In my defense, I thought I'd see better in Milan and wasn't quite ready to bring back 2 multi-hundred euro handbags; I was so wrong.
Julian's friend showed us around his office and took us on another walk through town, showing us the famed university, before taking us to his former lunch spot. It's the sort of place that tourists wander into and hate, bc there was no menu and the owner doesn't speak English. We started with another tri-pasta plate, which would've been plenty, but Julian's friend insisted we had to try the filet Marconi, invented for the inventor's centennial. It was pork wrapped in eggy spinach and covered in more pork and cream. Julian and I shared one -- and I still couldn't eat more than half. Thank goodness we cleansed the palate with a brilliant limoncello instead of dessert. After spending 2 meals and the better part of a day with Julian's friend, this Italian lawyer and I finally connected on the topic of strategy games and Civil War history. *bangs head on desk repeatedly*
We parted company so he could go back to work and we could be tourists. The museums were closed on the Monday, so we wandered around, mostly groaning at the sight of food and looking for t-shirts for our male relatives. We could not find a single t-shirt in the entire city, until we went to the official tourist office in the main piazza.
Barcelona was lovely, but we had the beauties of Venice to lure us on. Venice was wonderful, but we had the food of Bologna to lure us on. The only reason I ever left Bologna was bc I'd die if I ever ate again. On to Milan!