Bologna

Our train from Venice arrived in Bologna just after 9 am, and then we dropped our luggage off at our hotel and started in on our day there. Our friends, Michael and Michelle ("Meesh"), had lived in Bologna while Michael was working for Ducati and Meesh was studing abroad, so they planned an amazing day for us here. Jen and I drank our cappuccinos on Piazza Maggiore, the city's main square, and then did the portico walk to the Santuario della Madonna di San Luca, a large sanctuary on a hill outside of town.

Bologna is famous for its porticos, which line the walkways all over the city. The San Luca walk is notable because you walk out of the the old city gates and climb a hill while passing under over 600 porticos. The walk ends at the sanctuary, which is dedicated to Saint Luke. I really liked the porticos because when you are inside them, they make the views seem infinite, and Jen often noted that this was appropriate because to her, the walk up the hill felt infinite. At the top, we were able to see the sanctuary's interior (no pics due to a Mass), and there were great views of the countryside.

By then, it was time to make our way down the hill to continue with our itinerary and find lunch. Michael had chosen a pizzeria (piz-AIR-ee-ah, not peets-er-EE-ah--Italians will act like they don't understand and then correct you), Nicola's, but many business owners in Europe go on holiday in August, and it was closed. However, there was a great restaurant next door, so we had a nice lunch outside.

After lunch, it was time to make a reservation for dinner. Michael had mentioned the Bologna restaurant, Drogheria della Rosa, many times in the two years I've known him. Specifically, on at least a dozen occasions, he has mentioned the owner's signature dish: filet mignon in balsamic vinegar reduction. Jen and I walked over during the lunch hour to meet the owner, Emanuele Addone, and make a reservation for that evening. We walked in a started speaking to an employee, and Emanuele waived from a seat in the back, yelled "Buongiorno!" and then walked over to shake my hand.

Emanuele is the classic Italian restaurant owner. In Italy, the restaurant owner is the big dog, and he is generally always present while the restaurant is open. Emanuele loves to sit at an outside table, have a full conversation with every local passerby, pour Prosecco for his guests, and generally charm and gladhand the day away. He also has amazing red Versace glasses. M&M had visited Bologna about three weeks prior, and I told Emanuele that they had sent us. I also told Emanuele that Michael had often told me about the filet with balsamic vinegar, and he simply responded matter-of-factly, "I have it. I will wait for you tonight."

Most of Michael and Meesh's itinerary involved eating, but Jen and I had no qualms with that whatsoever. Faithfully carrying out our instructions, we marched on to M&M's favorite gelateria and had dark chocolate, hazelnut, and pistacchio gelato. This was definitely the best gelato I've had in Italy.

Then it was time to head over to a row of gourmet shops off of the main square and find Meesh's favorite cheese--pecorino stagionato in foglie di noci (sheep's milk cheese aged in walnut leaves). We asked for a sample ("Posso assagiare?") and bought "un etto" (100 grams). Jen and I loved it, and it reminded me us of Goat Chopper, our favorite sheep's milk cheese from the Bay Area.

At this point, we had been out in the heat for a while, so we took a late afternoon siesta at our hotel and then got back on track with our itinerary. Michael said we should get an apertivo (pre-dinner drink) and people-watch on a specific strip near the gourmet shops. This did not disappoint, mostly because the locals were hilarious and we saw about four Italian men that we decided could be Michael in 20 or 30 years. Our favorite conducted the last ten minutes of his conversation with a group of men while standing up with his helmet on and strapped before jumping on his Vespa and speeding off (while still talking). We each had one of the regional cocktails, a true Bellini (with pureed peach, invented in Venice) for Jen, and at Michael's recommendation, a Campari spritz for me. These were a really nice way to start the evening.

Finally, it was time for dinner. Dinner was a really funny experience, mostly because we were quite unacquainted with how real Italian restaurants work when you get off the tourist track. We sat down and Emanuele poured us a splash of Prosecco to get things started while we spoke with him for a few minutes. As he sat with us, he started naming all of the dishes that were available that night--no menu, Emanuele was the menu. The steak was obligatory, so I ordered that, and then we decided to get the cheese ravioli with zucchini flowers. Then I remembered that Michael had suggested a plate of antipasti (mixed meats and cheeses), and when I told Emanuele that we wanted one of those, as well, he informed me that it was already on its way. We told Emanuele that we needed to take a picture with him for Michael, and he made sure that in the picture, he was handing Jen the rose from the centerpiece of our table.

Compounding our confusion, we ordered the house red wine, and the bottle came open with about a quarter already gone. I was a little perplexed because I was wondering if they put an already-opened bottle in front of you but charge you for the whole bottle. Later I learned that some restaurants serve the house wine in this "passed bottle" manner, and then you simply pay pro rata for what you drink. But not understanding the custom, and not wanting to be rude or difficult with Michael's friend (and also not knowing the prices for anything we had ordered), I simply resigned myself to having fun with the experience and paying whatever the check said at the end. Long story short, everything was absolutely delicious, and the steak that I had heard about for so long came with an assortment of grilled vegetables and was an incredible dish. As in, if I were back in the region, I would probably make a special trip to Bologna to eat that dish again. Confused about how the wine would work, but assuming we were just paying for the whole bottle, Jen and I decided to just finish it since we had no idea what we were paying anyway.

After our primi and secondi were done, the waitress asked if we would like dessert. We had a late-night granite-and-gelato appointment per M&M's itinerary, so we declined. She asked if we wanted fruit, and we politely declined that, as well. Then, about ten minutes later, another waitress came over and, without saying anything, simply gave us a bowl of fruit and walked away. Again a bit confused, but thoroughly enjoying the experience, we went ahead and ate it. When the check came, it was a bit like a mystery box, because I literally had no idea what to expect. Emanuele had hooked us up--all it said was, "Coperto (Cover), 2, €50." Basically, for antipasti, a ravioli dish with zucchini flowers, a filet, wine, and fruit, he only charged us €50 total (about $66), which is a great deal considering the quality of the food and that Italy does not add on tax or tip (you can tip a bit at your discretion, which we did). Emanuele being the smooth operator that he is, he made sure Jen left with our table's red rose.

Finally, it was time for late-night granite (what we know as "Italian Ice," but it is better here and not as sweet). Following M&M's suggestion, we got fragola (strawberry) granite topped with fior di latte (sweet cream) gelato. It was a really nice way to end the day, and Jen said this was one of her favorite things we have eaten during our entire trip. And with Florence ahead of us for the next day, it was time for bed.

Many thanks to Michael and Meesh for planning such a great day for us. It was fun to see the city where you two lived (and met) over here in Italy, and we had an awesome time (and an incredible number of calories) in Bologna. Hopefully we'll be back for that filet before too long, and in the meantime, I'm going to try to figure out how to reproduce that dish at home.

Grazie for reading. Ciao ciao ciao ciao ciao.