Day 7

Florence! (aka Firenze) I managed to wake up in time to catch the early train. I had a friend when I was an undergraduate who kept pictures of ``the'' David in her dorm room. Always seemed a bit much for me. I began to doubt my skepticism of her adoration last week when Carl Simon said something to the effect of ``you know, at some point you're wandering through these European cities and it's just one painting after another and one more white marbled dude. But "the" David, whoa. You walk around the corner in this little museum, and whammo!"

Even with Carl's warning, my reaction caught me off guard. "The" David really does take your breath away. It's not the placement (small museum, it may as well be in the Rackham lobby). It's the raw youth, the veins, the huge freaking hands, and the even larger head. I'm intrigued to see how Orrie and Cooper react.

I arranged to be at the Duomo at noon so I could hear the Campanile bells count of the hours. Buono. The Duomo museum is small but the Pieta was beyond expectation. I think the effect is partly due to the color of the marble, kind of a yellowy hue, but it's more the compassion in the old man's face as he holds Christ. That face bears a striking resemblance to Michaelangelo himself. What are the odds?

The overwhelming impression one takes away from Florence is that they have to do something about all of these tourists. I took a lot of pictures (mostly for other people). I've decided I must radiate a certain skill at taking photos. Sadly, skill is certainly not born out in the photo's I take. An old couple from Singapore made me take three photos of them in front of a statue because for some reason they didn't want their legs in the photo.

Below is a picture of some people in the Museo de Duomo. They gave this statuary the full twenty seconds it deserved, then they were off.


I shant forget lunch, a highlight for two reasons. First, I encountered a wealthy couple from Connecticut who had in their possession an itinerary with long explanations of what to do and see. It was 1:45 and they were to be at Gozzi Sergio (they were) a place known for Tuscan food. I'm not making this up. They had a four page battle plan laid out for how to take the city. Oh boy did they look FUN! I peeked at the schedule and saw what laid ahead:
9pm Happiest, Happy Hour: Just South of Palazzo Pitti, there's a small...

Second, the pasta at this place appeared to be amazing. The spaghetti was about twice the diameter of what we get in America and it was the golden yellow of Jenna's hair. Anyway, I order the tagliatelle, which the person I'm seated with (an elderly Italian man who cannot believe I don't order a carafe of wine) seems to be enjoying immensely. Unfortunately, and I know this will be hard to believe given that my Italian is practically the equivalent of a native's, the waiter thinks I say "tagliata" and brings me that instead (see photo right). Tagliata turns out to be Italian for "plate of meat." I'll add that to my growing vocabulary. On the plus side, a fine good plate of meat it was.

How does one complete a day like this? Simple, a call home to the family and then a slow walk across town to two warm dishes of pasta, a small beer, and fabulous jazz at Chet Baker's. I went hoping to hear Rachel Gould, who'd played with Chet himself, but alas, I pumpkined at about 12:30 as the warm up act was starting its second set. Not that I should complain about the music: great bass player and a very young singer who could have been a little less awkward and eager (but can't we all). All sorts of people were just rolling into the club as I was exiting -- many several decades older than I. No gelato tonight, just some water, a book, and a warm bed.

Day 6

The camera ran out of batteries today so I was unable to take pictures of the bazaar near the train station. Italy is the land of shoes, watches, wallets, and women's clothes. The deals on wallets were great but all of the Italian men's wallets are too big, and they have change purses inside them. This makes sense when you have a 2 Euro coin.


I had lunch with a friend of mine from Caltech, Marco Casari. A year or so ago, I ran into Marco at Purdue, now at Bologna. Before that, I bumped into him in Trento. I wonder where he (and I) will go next.

Marco took me to a place that specializes in organic, slow food. All of the slow food has a little slow food logo next to it. Ironically, service at this place was the fastest in Italy. Anyway, wonderful spot, and Marco pointed out a famous bakery on the way out. Win win.

Marco introduced me to an Italian soft drink called Chinotta that uses the burnt leaves of a plant introduced from China about 600 years ago. This is one of the many new local products that Italians have reintroduced. It's an "anti Coca Cola" It was pretty good. It has sort of a light cola taste.


For lunch, I played it safe and had a traditional ragu (mmm). a salad of fresh local greens, and then a ricotta cheese dessert resting in a shallow pool of some sort of grape reduction (that's the best they could do for me in the translation). I'd call it some sort of mix of port, plum sauce, and grape juice. The picture above shows me eating this dish. Note the speed at which the ricotta is headed down the hatch!

The best part though was seeing Marco. He's a lovely person. Very happy. His research is going well and he's back home in Italy. I'm very happy for him. It was so nice to see a familiar face.
I went out to a jazz club Friday night, a huge cavern like place that had a fair share of tourists -- good preparation for tomorrow's trip to Florence. I had a fabulous seafood gnocchi preceded by a spinich and olive bruschetta. The Joe Farnsworth Residency (``all the way from New York City'') was amazing. Joe turns out to be Pharoh Sanders regular drummer. Was he genius? I'd put him more in the category of hardest working drummer in jazz. The guy brought his sticks.

Day 5

I've learned two interesting things about the architecture of Bologna both relate to defense. First, the porticos which dominate the streets where not built to attract tourists eight hundred years in the future. They were built because space was tight -- no one dared build outside the city walls and the cheapest way to make your house bigger was to extend it over the street and build a portico. A spandral for tourists.

Second, yes, the towers that dominate the skyline were for defense. Everyone knows that. But when you lost a fight with a neighbor you had to reduce the height of your tower. And Gert Hoftstede claims this is a heavily masculine society...

Now, on to the food! I had a wonderful lunch today with Giorgio Freddi who founded the department of political science here at the University of Bologa. Giorgio's a Berkeley grad, one of the first from Italy and a major player in the European political science community. He's also a gracious host with abundant local knowledge (see photo). He took me out to a restaurant housed in an old drugstore. It still looks like a drugstore inside with lots of bottles and containers lining the shelves. It seats maybe twelve people. As soon as we sat down, we had prosecco (Italian champagne) and a plate of meats and wonderful mozzerella.


Giorgio insisted on ordering for me and he ordered me a four cheese tortellini with shaved eggplant on top (see left). The pasta was the best I've had, but not light. I have to admit, I thought, wow, what a lunch -- drinks, meats, cheese, pasta, bread, and Panne water (only the best with Giorgio). What was perhaps best about the meal was that the place was filled with older Italian men, some in their nineties at least. I was hanging with the home boys.


And then, just when I was ready to leave out pops the waiter with a plate of green vegetables and oven baked potatoes, which were nothing special except for this outrageously rich, nap inducing vegetable flan with bechamel sauce. Boy, did I need that!!

Knowing I wouldn't eat much dinner, I splurged and sat alone at one of the trendiest cafes in bologna (and me the only person not wearing black). I had a small plate of hard cheese and 10cl of red wine. Twenty euros! (ouch).

The good news is that I may have room for gelato in an hour. But which place? And which flavor?

Answers:
(a) The fancy place downtown that looks like it's run by the Swiss
(b) a mix of chocolate and pistachio.

Oh my. Oh my. Jenna, Orrie and Cooper. Come soon!!

Day 4

After an amazing dinner the previous night, I wasn't very hungry so I had pancetta and formaggio panini for lunch which was exceptionally good. I also had a glass of sangiovese. What's great about Italians, as opposed to say the Irish, is the implicit moderation. My wine class had a line on it marking off 10ml (see photo). So, if you have a little wine with lunch you only have a little wine with lunch. It's so civilized. Perhaps this is how we should reduce binge drinking in the United States. We could encourage norms in which we drink 10ml glasses of wine slowly during lunch. That way, we might learn to enjoy life a bit more.

The cafe that I ate at was just around the corner from one of the fish markets. The fish are all cleaned up and out of the street by noon. I thought about buying some of the more interesting looking ones and cooking them at home (with ham I guess), but (alas) people keep inviting me out to dinner.

I took a wrong turn while running today and ended up on a five mile jaunt this afternoon. so I was good and hungry by dinner time (which is 9pm) Earlier I had asked the manager of the apartment I'm renting where to go for pizza when the boys and Jenna get to town (Jenna being big on pizza!) He told me this place that's down the alley, then down another alley, then down an alley. Sounded promising. I meet up with Elena, a visiting professsor from Spain, who lived in Florence for four years while studying at the EUI who wanted to get a quick, early dinner because she was taking the train out early the next morning. We get there at 8:30 and it's EMPTY. So we look for another place. The only other pizza places look like the Italian version of Ann Arbor's New York Pizza Depot. Great pizza, but no ambiance. So, we return to the original place. It's now 9:15 and we cannot sit on the ground floor because the place is so crowded. We're shuttled upstairs and I'm given a menu in English without being asked. Must be the button that says "I don't speak Italian" that I'm wearing.

Elena gets tagliatelle in bolognese. Thick, al dente pasta that's almost mustard yellow with a very meaty sauce. She's extremely happy with the dish. I try one bite and would feel regret were I not eating the most amazing pizza I've ever had. Fabulous thin crust. Light sauce. Parmesan cheese, finished off with a "rocket" salad with cherry tomatoes on top. And, if that's not enough, they bring me a bottle of olive oil infused with red chiles that I drizzle over the pizza.

Oh yeah. I forgot to mention the deep fried squash blossom, sardine, and eggplant antipasto. It was not unlike something you'd have at say Olive Garden (ha!)

For the record, I have been told that the only sushi place here is lousy.

Day 3

More alpine strawberries for breakfast (note the pattern).

I was going to go for pizza for lunch but then spotted a bakery in the student section with spinich calzones and apple tarts. Calzone was fine -- nothing special. Tart -- I'll let the picture do the talking.

For dinner, Carlo, a colleague and his wife had a party. She made a baked rice dish with olives and zucchini that was fabulous. We then had tuna sausage, spinich salad, and tomatoes which we dipped in freakishly good mayo. You just wonder why we eat Miracle Whip at home when home made mayo is so fantastic. We then have a home made almond torte. Ground almonds, flour, marscapone, and more ground almonds. It's about an inch thick and the size of a dinner plate.

We complement that with chocolate, vanilla, and coconut gelato. I was going to hold off on having any gelato until the boys and Jenna arrive, but now I'm off the wagon. Look out!!!

We finish with grappa, whiskey, and chocolates. It's midnight. I stay up until 4am digesting food.

Day 2

For breakfast, I go to the street market and buy some fresh alpine strawberries (and some bananas). The strawberries are amazing. They'll be a daily treat.

I have pesto at a bar for lunch with homemade tagliatelle. Fabulous. They seem to use more basil and less olive oil than I would have expected and if there are nuts in there, I'm not tasting them.

For dinner, I go to Pappagallo, a very old and famous restaurant. I was surrounded by pictures of long dead opera stars on the wall who'd eaten there. Need I say more? I have their classic green lasagna which is elegant but simple. It consists of layers of green pasta, a simple ground beef ragu, very similar to the Marcella Hazen Cardinal's ragu but not as much cinnamon, some bechamel that's really good (must be the cream) and then fabulous parmesan, which they come and scrape over the lasagna as well. The waiters at this place have straight spines and grate cheese with an elegance that's hard to describe.

For the main course (that's right a lasagna appetizer - hey, I'm in Bologna), I have a grilled pork chop wrapped in filo dough and tied with a bow. It sits in the center of the plate and to the north, south, east, and west lie dollops of spinach gnocchi. (I resist the urge to quote Auden here.) Drizzled in a spiral pattern on the edge of the plate is the classic port reduction. Nothing fancy here. No foam. Same food they've cooked at this location for more than a hundred years. It took a lot of will power not to lick the reduction after I'd finished off the pork chop. By the way, the chop was thin, pink, and firm. Perfecto!

Day 1

I arrive late and Daniella, the department chair, takes me to a bookstore for dinner. That's right a bookstore. Daniella has tortellini filled with ricotta in a balsamic vinegar reduction that's so ridiculously good that she gives me half. I have a special bolognese sauce that they made that day that's got carrots, tomatoes, pork, and onions. Outrageous.

Just in case you missed the reference above. This was a bookstore!! I can't wait to see what they serve at the shoe store down the street.

No dessert because it's 11pm.