Bologna: foodie paradise

Jan 27-29

Buongiorno from Bologna, Italy!  I'm in Italy during the off-season, so it's cold, rainy and snowing during my 3 days in Bologna. For the first few days, I decide focus on one of Bologna's most famous exports...FOOD!

There are very few regions in the world more famous for food than the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy...home to the cities of Bologna, Parma and Modena.

Parma is famous for parmigiano cheese and prosciutto crudo di Parma (Parma ham).

Modena is the birthplace of balsamic vinegar and calamari ripieni di calmareti (little squid seasoned, chopped, mixed with rice and stuffed into big squid!)

But, dear readers, I am in the delicious, gorgeous city of Bologna....!  And Bologna is the undisputed king of food.

I spent an afternoon wandering around the area called the Quadrilatero, an area known for it's tiny, medieval streets lined with food shops.

At the produce stands, I'm dazzled by the selection.

 I'm amazed at the massive lemons and huge, grapefruit sized oranges.

There are charming little shops for milk and cheese (latterias) and shops for meat, particularly interesting with ceilings full of hanging, curing meats.

Each shop also has a display of available dried or fresh pasta.

Bologna is famous for creating the delicious stuffed shells known as tortellini, so they're on display everywhere, both in the shops and on signs in front of restaurants.

Bologna also created the larger stuffed cousin to tortellini,  tortelloni.

The Bolognese people also created bolognese, or meat sauce, which the Bolognese people call ragù. Before the people of Bologna created ragù, pasta sauce was just tomato sauce! Thank you, Bologna!

Lasagna was also created here. Delicious, layered cheesy goodness called lasagna! This yummy dish is one of my all-time favorites...!

And finally...the city of Bologna is famous for... bologna! Here, they call it mortadella sausage and it is MUCH yummier than the American version of bologna. It's a mild, slightly sweet meat served primarily at breakfast alongside salami and croissants. (Italians don't eat eggs at breakfast.)  Mortadella sausage is delicious!

So there you have it! These are just a few reasons why Bologna is called the gastronomic paradise of Italy. If you're in Italy, I strongly recommend a visit. Just be sure to wear loose pants!

Caio!

Vicenza and The Ugly Americans

Tonight, we spent the evening walking around downtown Vicenza. Vicenza was founded in the 2nd century B.C. and prospered under Venetian rule from the early 15th to the end of the 18th century. The famous architect Andrea Palladio (1508-1580) designed many urban and government buildings as well as villas, which are scattered throughout the Veneto region. Palladio's work inspired a distinct architectural style that spread to England, throughout Europe and to North America - called the Palladian style.

I love to stroll around cities and take photos, but I don't love to write down what I'm taking photos OF... so forgive me, but I'm missing lots of photo credits. :)

The beautiful Chiericati Palace:

                 
                                                 

My favorite thing about European cities is when you look down little side streets and find something unexpected. As we walked, I found a nondescript little opening and much to my surprise... it opens into a beautiful courtyard with a sculpture.

                                                   

I love the colors in Italy...it's exactly as you see in pictures and postcards, but being here is entirely different somehow.  The buildings are antique cream, pale yellow, warm gold, fiery red and burning orange. It should all clash terribly, but instead, it's the most beautiful color combination you can imagine.

I love big, old, unique doors of every kind, shape and size. Whenever I'm in Europe, I find that doors are among my favorite things to photograph.  These beautiful doors lead to an apartment building in the interior courtyard.  Just imagine coming home to that door everyday.  Swoon!

My parents in front of another gorgeous door!

                                                                        Street signs...

I think Vicenza is a perfect Italian city.  With plenty of restaurants, museums, cultural opportunities and amazing architecture, it's a city not to be missed.  

We have dinner at the Ristorante Paradiso. The food, service and wine were excellent. Unfortunately, I won't remember the restaurant for it's delicious food.  I'll remember it for the neighboring table full of "ugly" Americans, and older woman, younger couple and their 3 year old daughter. The parents let the 3 year old run around the restaurant without regard for her safety (or the safety of the wait staff!). The restaurant is at the top of a large marble staircase and the little girl was running around near the staircase without so much as a glance from her parents. The parents didn't bat an eyelash when their child began wandering up to tables of people and touching things on the table or touching people.  A few times, they quietly and ineffectively said her name "Claire,"but it comes out like a question and the little girl ignores it completely.  I think that people like this give Americans a bad name when they travel.

When my steak with porcini mushrooms arrives, the child appears at my side and starts generously salting the food on my plate before I can react. The parents aren't paying attention and say nothing.  I am shocked and cry out "what are you doing?" while gently pushing the child away from my plate and table. The ugly Americans don't utter an apology, instead they console the (now crying) child, who has apparently never been told "no" before.

The parents are loudly consoling her saying "...it's okay...you were just trying to be nice!" and "don't worry... you didn't do anything wrong..." as if trying to teach ME a lesson in manners.  To make it up to her, the parents then encourage her to empty an entire bowl of grated parmesan cheese (one spoonful at a time) onto one of their plates, wasting it.  As the child does this, the lid to the bowl smashes loudly down each time.

Perhaps it was the stark comparison to the beautiful Italian day, the gorgeous city or the grace of the Italian people. But as I sit eating my overly salted steak and hear the Americans continue to soothe their "poor child",  I don't miss home one bit.