After weeks of above average temperatures here in Italy, autumn has arrived, and with it, the temperatures have dropped. The mercury dipped from the mid 80’s, past the 70’s, and into the 60’s seemingly overnight. This makes walking around the town much more comfortable and gives us the chance to put away our summer clothing and bring out the fall outfits along with our scarves – that very Italian accessory to protect you from “the evil winds”.
Yesterday we found ourselves sitting on the loveseat around 10:30am asking ourselves what we might do today other than walk to the markets, pick up food for lunch and dinner, then come home and sit around while waiting on 1pm and 8pm to roll around before we eat. What about spending the day in Venezia? Cinzia’s smile told me that this was the correct suggestion. With that, we got dressed, stopped in the tabaccheria to buy 4 tram tickets, took the short ride to the train station, purchased our tickets to Venezia Santa Lucia (€4,25 each way), and hopped onto the train. Before we knew it, we were walking out of the Ferrovia in Venezia watching water taxis, gondolas, and vaporetto in their chaotic rush to pick up and deliver passengers along the Grand Canal. How can you ever grow tired of this sight?
With no plans, we turned right, away from the bulk of the tourists racing towards the Rialto bridge on their way to Piazza San Marco. We wandered into the local neighborhoods of Venezia before thoughts of food entered our minds. Where to eat? Cinzia had a plan. She fell in love with a book I had given her for Christmas called “The Gondola Maker” by Laura Morelli. It’s an historical fiction set in 16th century Venezia and follows Luca, a young gondola maker working in his father’s squero (gondola yard), before setting off in search of love and fortune. The osteria Cinzia was hunting sat directly across a canal from one of the few remaining squero in Venezia and was aptly named Osteria al Squero.
She’s a fantastic navigator with an astounding sense of direction, but if there was a world championship for navigators it would almost certainly be held in Venezia. Armed with her smartphone and screenshots of how to get to Osteria al Squero, she was like a bloodhound hot on the scent. Eventually we emerged into a large piazza, but the GPS was telling her that we were elsewhere, and the next street (or alley) we were looking for was nowhere to be found. On the verge of defeat, I suggested we just walk this way or that and enjoy the sights of Venezia. She’d have none of that. Surrender was not an option. We pressed on, sometimes doubling back, until picking up her pace as she reacquired the scent. There was the squero just up ahead cross the canal! She’s done it, but wait, where were the tables set up for the al fresco lunch crowd? A dark thought started to build in her head as she approached the door of Osteria al Squero only to read their orario (hours of operation) which said: MERCOLEDÌ CHIUSO. Nooooo! She was crushed. She hadn’t thought to look up their hours of operation before we left Padova. All that there was to do was to admire the squero which was hosting some sort of event. There was a small, well heeled crowd in the shipyard holding drinks as chef was preparing an apertivo. Photographers and TV cameras were capturing the event from both sides of the canal.
She’s a fantastic navigator with an astounding sense of direction, but if there was a world championship for navigators it would almost certainly be held in Venezia. Armed with her smartphone and screenshots of how to get to Osteria al Squero, she was like a bloodhound hot on the scent. Eventually we emerged into a large piazza, but the GPS was telling her that we were elsewhere, and the next street (or alley) we were looking for was nowhere to be found. On the verge of defeat, I suggested we just walk this way or that and enjoy the sights of Venezia. She’d have none of that. Surrender was not an option. We pressed on, sometimes doubling back, until picking up her pace as she reacquired the scent. There was the squero just up ahead cross the canal! She’s done it, but wait, where were the tables set up for the al fresco lunch crowd? A dark thought started to build in her head as she approached the door of Osteria al Squero only to read their orario (hours of operation) which said: MERCOLEDÌ CHIUSO. Nooooo! She was crushed. She hadn’t thought to look up their hours of operation before we left Padova. All that there was to do was to admire the squero which was hosting some sort of event. There was a small, well heeled crowd in the shipyard holding drinks as chef was preparing an apertivo. Photographers and TV cameras were capturing the event from both sides of the canal.
Oh well, after watching for a bit, we headed off in search of someplace to eat before it became too late. Tourist places were out of the question. I miraculously led us back to one of the piazze that held several eateries. We selected one of the busier ones and settled in for a nice lunch at Trattoria-Pizzeria “Dallo Zio” – veal Marsala for Cinzia and risotto al nero di seppia for me. At the table next to us a couple from Caserta was visiting Venezia for a 2-day holiday. We’d visited Caserta several years ago while in Campania. Cinzia started up a conversation with Matteo and his wife, Maria Luisa, as we were both awaiting our meals. He was a police officer and the conversation touched on the immigrant problems in Napoli, Roma, and Sicilia, our trip to Umbria and Padova, retirement, Florida beaches, and of course food. They took out their phone and showed us pictures of their 20 and 17 year old children. Cinzia took out her phone and showed them photos of our 106 year old cousin.
All the while I’m sitting there facing the tables on the piazza next to us manned by a waiter from the neighboring eatery – Ristorante-Pizzeria “Al Sportivi”. His 8 tables are beautifully covered in white cloths holding plates, napkins, silverware, and sparkling glasses – and all are empty. Our tables, just 3 feet away, are more numerous and bustling with hungry customers. Tables are being turned over at a brisk pace. Both restaurants offer near identical menus. Both inclusive menus offer a choice of seafood spaghetti al frutti di mare or lasagna alla Bolognese to start followed by a choice of fish or meat, sides of French fries or salad, and both include the coperto (seating fee). Better yet, theirs is only €13,90 while ours is €14,90. So, why did their tables remain empty the entire time we were there? We arrived at two possibilities. 1) Our waiter was actively engaging passersby telling them of the homemade pastas and traditional recipe while theirs was standing there quietly. 2) Our waiter, while tall and blonde and looking more British than Italian, spoke several languages, while their waiter was short with dark skin and appeared more Middle Eastern. Whatever the reason, we both started to feel sorry for this restaurant. When a new waiter emerged to take his turn manning the outdoor tables he set out to realign the plates, napkins, glasses, and silverware, and even scooted a couple tables closer outer edge of his area nearest the piazza, he looked similar to the previous waiter and obtained similar results. At one point one of the receipts from our side, left there by a previous customers, blew onto their side (which was freshly swept by the new waiter). Our waiter said something while retrieving the receipt. We joked that he must have said something like. “Oh, so sorry. We’re so busy with paying customers that we can’t keep track of all of the receipts. It’s quite a long receipt too with all of the food they are ordering today.”
All the while I’m sitting there facing the tables on the piazza next to us manned by a waiter from the neighboring eatery – Ristorante-Pizzeria “Al Sportivi”. His 8 tables are beautifully covered in white cloths holding plates, napkins, silverware, and sparkling glasses – and all are empty. Our tables, just 3 feet away, are more numerous and bustling with hungry customers. Tables are being turned over at a brisk pace. Both restaurants offer near identical menus. Both inclusive menus offer a choice of seafood spaghetti al frutti di mare or lasagna alla Bolognese to start followed by a choice of fish or meat, sides of French fries or salad, and both include the coperto (seating fee). Better yet, theirs is only €13,90 while ours is €14,90. So, why did their tables remain empty the entire time we were there? We arrived at two possibilities. 1) Our waiter was actively engaging passersby telling them of the homemade pastas and traditional recipe while theirs was standing there quietly. 2) Our waiter, while tall and blonde and looking more British than Italian, spoke several languages, while their waiter was short with dark skin and appeared more Middle Eastern. Whatever the reason, we both started to feel sorry for this restaurant. When a new waiter emerged to take his turn manning the outdoor tables he set out to realign the plates, napkins, glasses, and silverware, and even scooted a couple tables closer outer edge of his area nearest the piazza, he looked similar to the previous waiter and obtained similar results. At one point one of the receipts from our side, left there by a previous customers, blew onto their side (which was freshly swept by the new waiter). Our waiter said something while retrieving the receipt. We joked that he must have said something like. “Oh, so sorry. We’re so busy with paying customers that we can’t keep track of all of the receipts. It’s quite a long receipt too with all of the food they are ordering today.”
We set out on an ambling walk through the narrow, shaded alleyways and emerging onto the sunny, expansive piazza of the city. It didn’t take long before a gelato sounded like a good idea. We found Gelateria di Natura. The pistacchio looked wonderful, but Cinzia ordered first and picked that, along with cioccolato dark. I can’t order the same flavor. I was blocked! Oh well, I’ll go with the limone and vaniglia. All this walking was exhausting, so a respectable 30 minutes after lunch, we found ourselves at another outdoor café ordering drinks – Aperol Spritz for Cinzia and Coca-Cola for me. The bill was €6 – €3 each. These Cokes are getting expensive.
Once regaining our strength, we continued until I spotted a nice little pasticceria where I picked up a cannolo and Cinzia a mini sfogliatella. More bridges, leather shops, glass shops, and a church caused the sun to start to dip in the sky and our legs to grow weary. Should we stay in Venezia for dinner, or just hop back on the train to Padova? We agreed that we’re both old and home sounded like the more attractive option. On our way back to catch the 7:12pm train I had to pick up a coupe tiny pastries to eat at home. That can be dinner, right? Well, maybe not that, but if I add a nice piece of crostata…