Tag: italian

2024)

Sorry about the long break, but I’ve been a busy bunny. Anyway, here is a break from the current timeline to something more recent: our 3-day trip to Venice.

We are part of the problem. Of course we know this. It would be hypocritical of us to deny that and yet take part in what is assuredly a slow degradation of a proud and beautiful city. And this is why I left Venice with a tinge of sadness, but with a bittersweet longing for return.

First things first… why Venice and not Volterra? Well it was a significant birthday for Niamh, and she shopped around for the holiday and chose Venice as her destination. We had been there for about 7 hours in 2010, and watching live walks in it during the pandemic whetted our appetites, particularly those uploaded by the YouTube channel ‘I Love You Venice’.

We flew Ryanair, but didn’t opt for FastTrack. We had regretted that at first, as the queue snaked back all the way to its opening, but it actually moved quite nicely and we were only in it for maybe 15 minutes. There was a slight delay to takeoff, which was made-up during flight time, and when we landed… ahhh, the temperatures. It was 22-23, whereas Ireland hadn’t gotten higher than 14 and was still frequently in single digits. I was feeling the jacket I was wearing.

Anyway, we navigated our way past the first vaporetto ticket booth to the docks, where the booth was empty. We bought tickets for the vaporetto, went to dock 12, and then queued… and queued… and queued. A larger vaporetto was boarded by the waiting in the dock next to ours, and they too seemed to be going to Rialto, so I was beginning to get squirmy. The vaporetto filled and left. Then a few minutes later, a smaller version came to our dock and our queue started moving – but it took two further boats to enable us to get on board. All part of the process, I guess. In fairness, they weren’t long in coming. We boarded and had to wrestle our handheld luggage down the stairs. I stupidly chose a row of seats beside a life preserver, so I had nowhere to put my case, save between my legs for the hourlong ride.

Ten minutes in, I realised that at times we were banking a lot. It was due to the fact that there are actual lanes demarked in the bay and traffic rules to be obeyed. I guess it makes total sense, given the amount of water craft in the area. We breezed past a few islands, only making a stop at one, I think, before making it to the grand canal. We had our first wow moments there. The weather was perfect – the best weekend they’d had to date that year – and everywhere you turned was a Canaletto painting. It’s a remarkable-looking place. We hit our stop at Rialto bridge, and set about finding our hotel.

There were plenty of people about, but crowds were not the foremost thing on our mind. We were keen on finding our place, dumping our bags, finding a light bite and going on an explore. I have heard many people in videos say “don’t bother with Google maps”. Maybe this was down to their provider. We only had occasional signal issues, with our location darting about the map as a result, but by and large, we found Maps to be reasonably useable under Vodafone (not sponsored). We found our hotel (me noting a couple of gelaterie on the way) without much fuss in less then 10 minutes. We stayed in the Rosa Salva, a small boutique hotel not too far from St. Mark’s Square, on a quiet enough laneway. Note, that everything we mention by name will have a link to it in the description box below. This hotel is associated with a small chain of pasticcierie and gelaterie in Venice. There was no breakfast, but we had some free food and drink in the room fridge and a discount voucher for their stores – one of which was right next door!

Anyway, once we’d checked-in, we ran out and came across a really cute little cichetteria – Il Salotto di San Marco – and stopped for a drink and those little tasty Venetian morsels. I tried the famed creamed cod. Atfter my first bite, I had regretted all my life’s decisions up to the point they took me up to that very moment and caused me to put this substance in my mouth. It was terribly fishy, even to the point of it being ammonic. I took a second bite, and then it didn’t seem quite so bad – and the 3^rd and 4^th were actually quite pleasant. Give it a go – but push past that first mouthful! I had a fancy version of it again in Burano, but more on that later.

We had a wander and of course Venice blew our minds. Let me get one thing straight: Venice is an explorer’s dream. There’s always an excitement of reaching another junction, which involved a canal, and you just knew that all 360 degrees would be Instagrammable. Wander down narrow laneways, away from the main arteries, and if you’re lucky you’ll find a secluded square with a bar or restaurant with few tourists, and surprisingly low prices.

Then there are the main Corso on the way to Canereggio, the grand canal walks and, God help us all, the Rialto bridge. We had a gelato on the southeast side of the bridge (meh), and then, girding our loins, crossed the bridge. We hit the Rialto bridge once during this stay (well, twice – we had to cross back), and avoided it for the rest of the trip. It was teeming, and even then it wasn’t high season. I shudder to think what it’s like then. It’s really the only way to cross the grand canal, unless you hire a traghetto. Actually, if you do hire a traghetto, you also get the gondola experience for about €2 per person – albeit for a much shorter duration – it just ferries you across the canal.

We hit the grand canal walkways a bit, checking out the bridge in profile. Look, it’s gorgeous from that angle, and a must-see when you’re in Venice. In fact, I’d find it difficult to believe that any visitor, particularly a first-time one, never went near it. Then it was off to the piazza at the far end of the fish market for a sit-down drink. The market was being hosed down, and the drinks were fine – the smell of fish assailed our nostrils from time to time – not necessarily a good companion to Aperol!

We went back to the hotel to have a bit of a rest. On the way back, we stopped off at an off-the-beaten-track Carnavale mask maker. Niamh picked one out to add to our mask collection in Volterra. We had begun gung-ho, with plans to stay out ‘til dinner time – but the early start got the better of us, and we headed back up. The room was warm, and we actually didn’t ask the receptionist to reduce the heat until the next day. In fact, it was the best spell of weather Venice had so far this year – there was a mini heat-wave over much of Italy that weekend – so we were very lucky.

We had gotten a recommendation for a restaurant from a sommelier, and walked out to walk in that evening… more than a bit naively… but when we found it, it was booked out. We managed to book it for the next night, which was Niamh’s birthday – so it all worked out beautifully! Anyway, there were a couple of other places nearby… and this takes me to a little tips section on selecting restaurants in Venice (and in much of Italy, to be honest), if you’re a foodie… If you’re happy to chuck any old muck into you (no judgement, honest), then you can ignore them:

Generally, don’t go for ‘does-it-all’ restaurants unless you have a family with you. If you want a chance at good pizza, go to a pizzeria, if you want good pasta and mains, go to a regular restaurant.
A menu with 200 things on it. Sometimes they can surprise you, but quality is inevitably going to suffer here.
A menu in the window translated into 5 languages
A menu in the window with photos that are supposed to represent the food on the menu
Restaurants which have people hired specifically to entice you into the restaurant. Yuck. I hate this.

Go for smaller, family-run places – if you can find a hand-written menu of the day, then you’ve probably hit the jackpot if you’re after local specialities.

All that said, we broke one of these rules and went to Il Calice, a pizzeria with a small menu with other plates. They had some really lovely looking pizza-by-the-slice squares, but we weren’t in the mood for pizza and so opted to go upstairs to the café-style restaurant and ordered from the menu instead. We had a fab salumi plate to share, with a delicious chunky piccalilli. So far, so good. Sadly, the pasta dishes weren’t great. Niamh had a pasta amatriciana and I had gnocchi in a white ragu. Niamh’s pasta was undercooked, but the sauce wasn’t bad. My gnocchi were definitely overcooked, and while the sauce was ok, it was very soupy. In fact, had it been served as a soup, I wouldn’t have minded.

After the meal, we wound our way to St. Mark’s square though the little local maze and sat opposite the Doge’s Palace and people watched. Of course we had to dodge the rose sellers, and the hawkers of those helicopter kids toys thingies.

When we’d had enough, we walked along the grand canal and, quite by accident, found Harry’s Bar – the birthplace of beef carpaccio and the Bellini cocktail. We had to do the touristy thing – it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience… yes, we paid €22 per teeny Bellini. Peaches were not yet in season, but it was fresh pulp nonetheless… however, to me, it tasked a little like cardboard box. They were serving food there that did smell quite yummy, though. We were fed enough, though, and instead headed back to the hotel as we knew we’d have a day of being on our feet tomorrow.

Part 2 here!

We Blitz-Visit 4 Hilltowns

Warning! This page is photo-heavy!

We showered and made ourselves pretty, then went to the bank (Cassa di Risparmio di Volterra) to renew our online banking security token. They are our mortgage provider. We had to go to an Italian bank, as Irish banks at the time (and still maybe today) were refusing to grant mortgages for foreign properties. Anyway, we were super-lucky that a local bank was willing to assist, and we felt comfortable with them from the get-go.

We entered, took our ticket and glanced at the digital display of which number was being served next, and at which teller. There are many institutions and stores at which you have to take a ticket and wait for your number to be called. It’s not a bad idea, as it means you can find somewhere comfortable while waiting, and not be worried about being queue-jumped.

Our number was called, and we explained that we didn’t have much Italian, and then showed them a Google Translate of what we wanted. Fortunately, she gave us an immediate appointment with the representative with whom we were dealing for our mortgage. He greeted us enthusiastically, and in about 15 minutes we were done and dusted. Excellent!

With that done, we stopped to get a quick bottle of water each and headed to the carpark. We drove a familiar route (which takes us to the airport) for much of the way to Lari, before Google Maps showed us an alternative route. We took it, and were glad we did. There were some fantastic views to be had. Unfortunately, as we didn’t know the road, I didn’t take any photos, as I was fixated on the route displayed on the phone (our Lancia POS does not have on-board GPS). In addition, there were no points on the road at which you could stop and take a few snaps in comfort. It can be frustrating sometimes, but we will take this road again and do our best to capture it for you at another time.

We got handy parking (with just a short walk), and wandered up to the main walled part of the town, which is quite small. The whole area is dominated by the fortress, which lies in the middle, atop huge, conical walls. The views from there were impressive.

One of the main reasons we visited Lari, however, was to check out the Martelli pasta factory. Unfortunately, the August curse struck and the place was closed until September. Generally, unless you’re in an area likely to be swamped with toursists, you take your holiday in August if you’re Italian. This was a bit of a recurring theme later on. Almost everything was closed, including the factory. We’ll go again in September with guests, so all is well. Plus, we consoled ourselves with food in a nearby restaurant. Niamh had a salad and spaghetti all’aglione, and I had a carbonara, but with sausage instead of pancetta or guanciale (the latter is pork jowl, and is the preferred cut to use for carbonara). The pastas were Martelli and were nice and toothsome.

I then had a chargrilled pork steak in one of the most unusual sauces I’ve ever had: gorgonzola, green peppercorn and paprika. I’m still not sure what to make of it… I think I liked it, but I might have to have it again to be sure!

We decided to wait for dessert until the next town. This was a mistake.

Seeing nowhere open we could actually buy Martelli pasta, we headed back to the car, and contemplated just heading home, but then I suggested we visit the spa town of Casciana Terme, as it was only 20 or so minutes’ drive away. We arrived from a height and saw the town neatly nestled below us. It is not an old medieval town, but still has its charms. It was getting very warm, and so we hunted for a place near the spa itself for gelati. We found one, and sadly it was one of the worst ones I’ve ever had. The lemon sorbet had a sort of cardboard-like undertone… not pleasant at all. I won’t name the place. At least it did it’s job of cooling us down.

Casciana Terme also fell foul of both August holidays and the afternoon siesta. There was virtually nobody on the streets. It might be an idea to try again in September, complete with a visit to the spa itself (which, in fairness, was open).

We returned to the car, and I spotted that a couple more places were nearby: Rivalto and Chianni. We drove to the former, almost via the latter thanks to a bum-steer by me. I must say, that while all the literature proclaims Volterra to be the highest hilltop town in Tuscany, Rivalto can give it a run for its money. Maybe it’s not included in the list, as it’s really more of a village. But the views were impressive, especially as you could see Volterra on its plateau way off in the distance.

Onwards to Chianni. I’m sorry to say we didn’t spend nearly enough time in it – maybe only 20-30 minutes, as we were seriously beginning to cook under the sun at that point. It was about 32-34 again yesterday. Chianni looks gorgeous, and we will definitely be back soon for a better mooch.

We drove home after that, and chilled.

In the evening we used up some perishables in the fridge and Niamh cooked a little vegetable pasta dish, which was nice – althought I wasn’t especially hungry after my afternoon meal. I then went out for a passeggiata (a stroll, usually taken en-masse by Italians in the evening), and took some snaps. There was a jazz orchestra playing in the Roman amphiteatre, so I stayed a while and listed to that.

This morning I headed to the balze (the cliffs and bluffs of the Volterran plateau), and realised that I was very near the Witches Stone. Here, it is said, the mother of all witches, Aradia the daughter of Diana, held her masses, during which orgiastic and sapphic pleasures occured with avatistic abandon. Sadly, today there was only an old font 😉

No strict plans today, so lets see whats what. I hope you enjoyed this post. Please let me know what you’d like to see more of. Cheers!

Holiday day! Eating out.

Peak laziness was achieved yesterday after my walk! We hung around the house and then, with a bit of a hunger on us, walked the long way around to get lunch. We went from our house to the Porta San Francesco, and followed the walls clockwise, past the Roman amphitheatre back to the Porta Fiorentina, which is actually the closest gate to us! Nothing wrong with getting a second walk in, I suppose.

On the way, we took a look inside Chiesa di San Lino, as we’d never been in it before. Whenever I enter an Italian church, the first thing I do is look up!

It took us a while to reach the restaurant, Osteria La Pace, who have wonderful home-made pastas. Their menu isn’t huge, but that which you can concentrate on is often wonderful. I had Caserecce di Cinta e Funghi (a pasta variety with pork and mushrooms), and Niamh the Pici al Cianghiale (thick noodles with wild boar). The pasta that came out on my plate looked nothing like caserecce, but more like thick pappardelle (the pic on the left below), which is ok as it’s one of my fave pastas. While mine was tasty, the food jealousy was very real after tasting Niamh’s (the middle photo). It’s one of the best plates of pasta in Volterra. We both finished the meal with an amazing tiramisù. On the way back to the apartment, we booked a table for our evening meal – always be thinking ahead!

In the afternoon we rested a while (it was pushing 30 to 31 degrees out), I wrote a few more hundred words of my novel and toasted myself for a short while out on the terrace.

We then went out to have a look at a small flea market and stopped off at La Mangiatoia for a couple of Moretti each.

After another laze-about, we got ready for our meal and wound our way down Via Gramsci towards the restaurant. On our way, I paused a moment to snap a lady demonstrating the art of alabaster carving.

Sometimes it’s the food that keeps you coming back to your favourite places, and sometimes it’s the welcome. In the case of La Taverna della Terra di Mezzo it’s both! Roberto and Aurora always welcome us back enthusiastically, and serve us some wonderful dishes. A free snifter of grappa (a strong spirit distilled from the left-overs of wine making) to finish the meal off helps a little there! It has a strong, almost woody, flavour, but hits you a bit like vodka.

I had the Zuppa alla Volterrana and Niamh some Bruschette to start. Niamh then had Penne Arrabbiata (literally, angry penne!), which was quite hot with chili. I had a steak on the bone with oven-baked spuds. Then we had tiramisù again, but instead of it being made with coffee, it was made with limoncello and was almost as lovely as the one we’d had earlier.

We rolled ourselves out of our chairs and strolled towards the Roman amphitheatre, as there was a performance of Faust there that night. We got one of the cheap ‘seats’ (looking on with no charge from the walls above!). It was all in Italian, and we understood little of it – the sound wasn’t bad, but it didn’t carry fully up to where we were. At one stage, Mephisopheles appears, and it was done so well – completely unseen, then appeared with clever lighting. Unfortunately, I missed a photo of that. I have photos below, but they’re poor – I must invest in a decent camera one of these days!

We only stayed for 15-20 minutes before heading back to the apartment.

This morning, I felt a smidge hung-over, and there were denser clouds in the sky. The air felt thick in my lungs, and I knew a strenuous workout was to be avoided, so I just walked about town and papped anything purty I saw.