Chiu's Sushi (MD - Baltimore)

Not to be down on the Baltimore food scene (again), but I have had a Hell of a time trying to find really good sushi in Baltimore. Kawasaki is not good. Matsuri used to be pretty good, but now is less so. Anyway, when I saw that Chiu's had opened, I decided to pop in - in hopes of sushi salvation.

The first thing that amazed me about Chiu's is their list of maki - it is literally an entire 8.5x11" sheet of paper - in three columns and 10 point font. There appear to be hundreds of combinations and permutations - replete with a legend at the bottom indicating abbreviations for ingredients, cooked rolls, etc.

[Notice to expecting mothers - Chiu's has the largest selection of cooked rolls that I have seen anywhere]

We ordered the special "toro martini" and a vegetable tempura to start, while we continued deciphering the maki encyclopedia.

The "martini" was chunks of toro in sesame oil, served in a martini glass. The fish was silky smooth, firm and fatty - exactly what you want in toro. The tempura was light and crisp, not at all heavy and full of that, "you can't do this with the panko you have at home," aura.

We are usually sashimi people - pure, simple, clean fish - the best measure of a sushi restaurant's quality (as one of my friends often says, "I think Sushi is Japanese for sourcing"), but it felt like maki was the thing to do, so we ordered an Alaska roll, a Gregg roll and a steakhouse roll.

When they arrived, we were struck by how large they were. Each roll was half a dozen disks, each over two inches across and an inch thick.

Once you got past the sheer magnitude of the rolls they were very good, even if they made you look like a chipmunk. Fresh fish and vegetable ingredients combined in creative ways, with the only drawback being the number of ingredients. At times, there were so many different things in each roll that it was easy to lose track.

The steakhouse roll was fairly unique. Grilled sirloin topped with a spicy pepper sauce and tucked into the center of a nori wrapper and white rice. I don't really think of this as sushi, but it was interesting to try.

I need to go back to Chiu's and sample more of their sashimi and a few more maki before I can render a final verdict, but the early returns look promising - especially if you are a pregnant woman.

Tio Pepe (MD - Baltimore)

Restaurants like Tio Pepe are the reason that Baltimore has long been a culinary brown field. They serve average food at outrageous prices with poor service and live well beyond their life expectancy because a certain crowd likes to go there to see and be seen.

[See also: Peerce's Plantation, Linwood's, Kawasaki, Brass Elephant, Da Mimmo (anyone who thinks that Mimmo can hold a candle to Boccaccio should be tossed in the Inner Harbor without a tetanus shot)]

Don't get me wrong - growing up in Baltimore, I loved Tio's. We went for birthdays, anniversaries, etc. Hell, I even went there to celebrate my high school graduation. If you have never left Baltimore County, sangria sounds "exotic," rude Dominican waiters appear "Spanish" and being seated 30 minutes after your reservation looks more "in demand" than disorganized.

After years of declining views of the place, I gave it one last try and came away more disappointed than ever. Our party of eight ordered a dizzying array of dishes, but I was able to sample: gambas, crema Escorial, Dover sole, veal Sevillana and the pine nut roll.

Gambas al ajillo
In Andalucía this is a magnificent, simple dish. You bring a cazuela of olive oil up to temperature, then toss in thinly sliced garlic, spicy red peppers and raw shrimp and remove it fro the heat. The three new ingredients boil in the oil and cook to perfection in front of you while you stare at it - bursting at the seams with anticipation - wondering how soon is too soon to begin dredging bread through the seasoned oil. Jump too soon and you burn your mouth - badly, I might add.

Anyway, the folks at Tio's have managed to take what was an elegant, peasant dish and destroy it. Their version is a few rubbery shrimp swimming in a bowl of dark brown gravy punctuated with minced garlic. This is closer to the gravy that accompanies Egg Foo Yong than anything Spanish.

Crema Escorial
I was intrigued by this dish. It was advertised on the menu as a sherry and cream based seafood soup. The red herring here is the name - in particular, the use of the word, "Escorial."

Escorial is a town approximately 40km north west of Madrid and houses a summer palace for the Spanish royal family, a monastery and a mausoleum for Spanish kings. What the hell does a landlocked town that hosts a summer palace have to do with a seafood soup? Nothing. As with everything else at Tio Pepe, they have draped an exotic, Spanish sounding name across an otherwise unrelated dish and hoodwinked Baltimoreans into paying through the nose.

Naming conventions aside, this was a thick bowl of sherry-scented cream with very few pieces of seafood in it. A total disappointment.

Dover Sole
If ever there were an argument that people can be tricked into eating mediocre food through theatrics, this is it. Forget bananas foster and tableside Caesar salad - this has them both beaten by a mile.

The sole arrives on a piping hot platter and is then filleted tableside by a waiter using nothing more than two spoons to completely de-bone the fish. Everyone drops what they are doing and oohs and aahs over it - staring in amazement at the waiter’s mastery of the spoons. When he is done, he makes a very big show of plating the fish and accompanying vegetables and generally gets rewarded with applause.

Here is the rub. From the time the fish has left the oven, it has sat on the line under heat lamps (don't even try to tell me Tio's doesn't use heat lamps - my "Crema Escorial" had a hard baked skin on top of it), then carted through the dining room, sat for another five minutes while it is de-boned, then finally plated and presented for consumption. The result is an over-cooked piece of fish that is cold to the touch. Gross. But OH MY GOD - did you see him remove the bones with a spoon? AMAZING!

Veal Sevillana
As the quality at Tio's has waned, this has been the lone standout. Veal cutlets, lightly breaded and fried, served in a sherry-based brown sauce with liberal amounts of green olives. You might actually find a dish that resembles this in some restaurants in Sevilla. Unfortunately, this too has finally met its maker. The veal was the consistency of shoe leather and the once appetizing sauce - light, perfumed with sherry - is little more than SYSCO beef gravy. So sad.

Dessert was and still is the high point of the meal at Tio's. Their pine nut roll is a classic. This is a yellow cake roll with cream filling and topped with toasted pine nuts. The cream looked more orange than I remember it being in years past, but the flavor is still there. Paired with an espresso, it is the only way to end a meal there (though I seriously recommend you avoid the place altogether).

Heritage India (DC - DuPont)

With the weather now decidely cooler, I can't get enough Indian food (alas, the lingering vestige of a Fall semester spent in London as an undergraduate). I find myself making bi-weekly trips down Connecticut Avenue to Heritage.

This time around, we went with a group, so we were able to sample a wider variety of flavors than usual. We ordered:

- Golgappas
- Samosas
- Chicken Tikka Masala
- Chicken Mahkani
- Dal
- Saag Paneer
- Channa Masala
- Raita
- Nans

As always, everything was very good. The Dal was a little bland - a little nothing of a dish. The saag paneer was a surprise hit.

I continue to worry about how empty the dining room at Heritage is on week nights. . .

Pazo (MD - Baltimore)

I am generally down on the Baltimore restaurant scene - and cast a highly skeptical eye on new restaurant openings - but Pazo proves me wrong, time after time.

This funky, converted warehouse has been draped in thick, dark velvet, warmed by candle light and split into a bar/lounge area, an open kitchen, a dining room and reserved areas upstairs. The result is something that would be far more comfortable in Manhattan than in downtown Baltimore.

The menu is another curve ball. Here you get a heavy dose of pan-Mediterranean tapas in a dizzying range of ingredients and preparations. I would argue that it is primarily a modern menu and that Barcelona is the dominant influence, but there are plenty of dishes that defy categorization.

I have now been about a half a dozen times - various days of the week, various times of day and with parties that ranged in size from four to 14. Each and every time, the service has been well-informed, polite and more than capable and the kitchen is already showing the ability to deliver the same dish, with the same appearance and flavor each and every time I order it.

The dishes that I keep coming back to include:
- whole wheat fougasse
- eggplant spread
- tono crudo
- jamon iberico
- manchego & manzana salad
- grilled lamb chops

Whole wheat fougasse - This dish reminds me of a soft pretzel scented with rosemary and garnished in rock salt. It arrives at the table deliciously fresh and still warm from the oven. It is a must. This is the sort of bread people go off Atkins to eat. Pair it with olive oil or order the eggplant spread - a dish that is similar to a babaganoush, but a thicker, more uniform consistency with perhaps a bit of sesame (maybe tahini?).

Tono Crudo - If Pazo has a signature dish, this might be it. Fresh-off-the-line cubes of red Jell-O colored tuna are coated in chili oil and sea salt and presented on wooden sticks like a plate of upside-down lollipops. Don't miss this dish - and order more than you think you need, because once people try it, it is addictive.

Jamon Iberico - This is a faithful reproduction of the classic Catalan dish. Coarse bread is topped with a tomato and olive oil spread (pan tomate) and then luxurious ribbons of melt-in-your-mouth jamon are draped over them. The ham will never be as good as what you can get in Spain (at least not until the FDA loosens its attitude towards Spanish agricultural practices and curing techniques) but it is as good as anything else you can get stateside. I will never tire of this dish. Order a plate of this and a bottle of cava and save the airfare to Barcelona.

Manchego y Manzana - This is one of the simplest - and best - salads you are likely to encounter. Strips of nutty, opulent manchego cheese are tossed with similarly sized strips of green apple and garnished with walnuts. What this lacks in visual appeal (the flesh of the apple and the cheese are identical in color) it makes up for in flavor. Manchego is a hard/firm sheep's milk cheese that has enough body to neutralize the acidity in the green apples, but doesn't overpower the apple. In New England they offer pair sharp cheddar cheese with green apple, which does a great dis-service to the apple.

Lamb Chops - Here too, there is a simplicity of preparation and presentation that belies the extraordinary flavor of the dish. Superior quality lamb chops are seasoned with salt and pepper and expertly grilled to medium rare perfection (red in the center, in this case) and dressed in nothing more than a "salmoriglio" sauce (olive oil, lemon juice, garlic and oregano). As with all of the other dishes I mentioned, simplicity is the rule - there are no gimmicks or elaborate sauces to cover up mistakes in the kitchen - and none are needed.

Pazo has a lovely list of desserts available, but I am usually too full to try any of them. Besides, who needs dessert when you can order a perfectly authentic "cortado" to finish your meal?

Oyster Riot - Old Ebbitt Grill (DC - Downtown)

As always, the Old Ebbitt Oyster Riot kicked off the "eating season" (runs annually from Thanksgiving through New Year's) in style.

Where else in the World can you sample 23 different oysters paired with a dozen white wines under one roof? Mix in passed oyster hors d'oeuvers, bread & cheese stations, a "shrimp shack" (featuring stone crab claws and shrimp cocktail), Guinness on tap, the "hall of losers" (the hundreds of wines that were not selected as feature wines) and some gritty, live blues music and you have the makings of a really big party.

It is easy to understand why everyone - and I mean everyone - in DC stops by to partake in the fun. You will see Georgetown students in jeans and baseball hats, standing next to couples in black tie (presumably on their way to the Kennedy Center), while gaggles of 30-something cougars from Virginia-tucky mingle with roving groups of youngish, male, American-Psycho-looking lawyers.

Tickets for this event are pricey, at around $80 per person, but even at these prices the event sells out well in advance. In fact, this year I saw people scalping extra tickets outside the event.

People cue up for hours before the official 6:00 start time - crowding all three of the Ebbitt's bars. Eventually they make their way to the atrium to begin the three hour food orgy. After handing in your ticket, you get a wrist band, a wine glass, a plate (with a hole to hold your wine glass) and a map of where to find all the oysters and wines.

What ensues is typically 45 minutes of frenzied pushing and shoving as people try to sample as many different wines and oysters as possible. Their goal is to find their favorites and spend the remainder of the evening camped out next to them. Others of us take a more leisurely and holistic approach realizing that if one were to cover the entire event, sampling two of each oyster and a half glass of each wine, one would emerge three hours later having consumed nearly 50 oysters and at least six glasses of wine. Discretion is the better part of valor here - it is a marathon, not a sprint.

After the initial surge, people start to get tipsy, so they migrate over to the cheese tables for bread, cheese, nuts and anything else that isn't an oyster and might soak up some of the wine. Others begin to feel full and start looking for places to sit down and take a breather.

At about this point every year (about a third of the way through the night) people remember that there is a shrimp shack and there is a massive run on shrimp cocktail and stone crab claws.

After snacking on the shrimp and crab, participants are re-fortified and dash around the corner to begin sampling from the 100+ wines in the "hall of losers" while others make their way towards the Guinness taps (bad idea, really bad idea).

Finally, with everyone drunk, full and perhaps a bit "energized" from consuming so many oysters, the dance floor becomes a sea of uncoordinated bodies crashing into each other to the tune of a driving rhythm and blues sound track.

My tasting notes from this year's event are a crumpled, salt water smeared mess, so I can't be too specific, but I do have the following observations:

Passed hors d'oeuvers - These were bigger and better than I remember in past years. Over the course of the evening, I sampled fried oysters, oyster shooters, bacon wrapped oysters and the biggest crowd pleaser of them all, the "oyster slider." The latter was a small, round potato roll stuffed with fried oysters and cole slaw. The result was somewhere between an oyster po'boy and a White Castle hamburger.

Wines
- The Grand Champion (2004 Jackson Estate Sauvignon Blanc - Marlborough, New Zealand) was outstanding. Clean, crisp, grapefruit notes and a long finish - everything I like in a Sauvignon Blanc.

- The Second runner-up (2004 Santa Rita Reserva Sauvignon Blanc - Casablanca Valley, Chile) was a total bust. This was an example of the heavy, cat piss scented Sauvignon Blanc your Mother warned you about (OK, maybe she said "yew scented" but you all know what I mean).

- The biggest surprise of the night was one of the Gold Medal winners (2004 Adegas Galegas Gran Vinum "Esencia Diviña" Albariño - Rias Baixas, Spain). This was a light, energetic wine with an oily mouth feel and short, but tight finish. I think they converted a few people to Albariño that night.

- The worst wine of the night (yes, I feel compelled to point them out) was another one of the Gold Medal winners (2004 Linden Vineyards Seyval, Virginia). I give the organizers credit for trying to support the wine industry in our neighboring state of Virginia, but this was not a strong showing. Maybe I tasted a bad bottle (someone liked them enough to vote them into the Gold Medal category), but this was acrid, fruitless stuff that I poured out after the second taste.

Oysters - There were quite literally too many to remember. I sampled from VA to the Puget Sound, from oysters the size of my hand to oysters the size of my thumb and everything in between. The organizers do a fantastic job of arranging oysters in playful combinations. They will pit two identical oysters, grown in different water next to each other at one table while at another, there will be different oysters grown in the same water.

Finally, my hat is off to the army of Oyster shuckers that turn out for this event. Rumor has it that the Ebbitt shucks over 20,000 oysters each night - an alarming 7,000 oysters shucked per hour. Many of the local oystermen turn out for the event and their ranks are augmented by a large contingent from Baltimore's Lexington Market.

Rome Dining

Day 1

Piazza Navona - After taking the train from Florence to Rome, getting ripped off by a cab driver and checking into our hotel, we needed to cool our heels for a bit. We strolled next door to the Piazza Navona to run the gauntlet of restauranteurs who lay in wait, pouncing on every tourist that wanders past. The guys in the Latin Quarter in Paris have nothing on these hawkers, except that these are Italian, not French, so they are somehow charming, even if they are basically busquers in ties and aprons.

I can't remember the name of the cafe we chose and they didn't accept credit cards, so I don't have a receipt. It doesn't really matter, we chose where to eat based on who had the best seats available, not what was on the printed menus. In the end, we wound up sitting in the front row of tables, closest to the fountains, on a gorgeous late fall afternoon - sunny and 65 degrees, not a cloud in the sky.

We ordered a plate of antipasto and the first two legs of the "Holy Trinity" (red wine and bottled water), leaving the coffee for later. This order would later be repeated everywhere we stopped in Rome.

Generally speaking, this was good antipasto - roasted red peppers, olives, artichoke hearts, proscuitto, fresh mozzarella, a hunk of Parmigiano and a selection of salami. We had fun toying with different combinations, dredging our bread in the olive oil, etc. - forget what our Parents taught us about not playing with our food!

At no point did I feel compelled to find out which butcher had supplied the meat or where else I could find that cheese, but it was all very solid and a completely enjoyable way to pass a few idle hours.

We left Piazza Navona, checked out the Pantheon, then strolled up to Piazza del Popolo to sneak a peak at Caravaggio's Cesari Chapel before heading home past the Spanish Steps.

Romolo nel Giardino della Fornarina - After a nap and a shower, we hopped in a cab and headed across the Tiber to Romolo. Romolo sits in the shadow of Porta Settimiana and is rumored to be the home of Raphael's mistress, "La Fornarina." Today, it boasts several cozy dining rooms and a truly magnificent garden. It was 45 degrees and breezy by the time we got there, so the garden was closed, but we took a tour on our way out. In nicer weather, you would be hard-pressed to find a more peaceful or romantic setting for dinner anywhere in Rome.

We were one of only two tables occupied at 8:00 on a Thursday night. I know that November is the low season and that many people only bother to cross the Tiber to visit the Vatican, but this definitely had us a little bit spooked.

We ordered up a bottle of Lambrusco (why not? we were on vacation), some bottled water and a plate of antipasto to enjoy while we studied the menu. The antipasto was the usual assortment of salami, proscuitto, mozzarella, red peppers, olives and artichokes - nothing really to write home about, but solid.

We ordered wild mushroom risotto, linguine in artichoke sauce, grilled lamb chops and a side of artichokes. It sounds like artichoke overload, but when in Rome. . . The waiter promptly delivered the linguine, but there was no sign of the risotto. He had apparently not heard us order it, so we tucked into the linguine while he went back to get some risotto.

The linguine itself was quite pleasant, but somewhat bland. In an effort to let the artichokes really stand out on their own, the chef had not seasoned it at all. Imagine a blender full of warm artichokes and olive oil poured over a plate of pasta. I appreciate what they were going for, but it wasn't the best.

When the risotto finally arrived, it too was fairly bland. Perhaps our taste buds were shocked from having just come in from Tuscany, but the risotto was little more than a creamy, warm, mushroom-scented pile. Liberal application of salt brought out some of the flavor, but this too was a pretty average dish.

The kitchen got back on track with the arrival of the lamb chops and the artichokes. The chops were prepared medium (my wife and I prefer rare) but were amazingly tasty. Each bite was a delicious mix of crispy outer skin, tender meat in the center, the tang of salt and rosemary and left your mouth coated in delicious fat in the way that only lamb really does - nutty, almost gamey, opulent and not too greasy.

The steamed artichokes were a perfect accompaniment and my wife had to confess that they were very similar to those that she remembers her Grandmother making. Tender on the outside, slightly tough in the center and perfumed with just the right amount of lemon and garlic.

We ordered some coffee and a cab and opted to skip dessert.

Day 2

We began the day with some awful espresso and biscotti in the Piazza Navona and then headed out to Santa Maria della Vittoria. We worked our way back to Piazza Navona through the Quirinale, past the Trevi fountain and then settled into a lovely little outdoor patio between our hotel and the Piazza Navona.

Santa Lucia - Santa Lucia is nestled into a shady grove just next to the Hotel Raphael. It sits in a little triangle that was formed where the Roman street grid meets the curve of the Piazza Navona. We ordered the usual bottles of water and red wine and then shared an Antipasto and Spinach Ravioli in red sauce.

The antipasto was an elaborate affair that combined the usual red peppers, artichokes, proscuitto, olives, etc. with white anchovies, steamed shrimp a seafood salad and grilled squid. All of the seafood dishes were tossed in an olive oil and vinegar mixture, like a rough Italian cerviche.

The ravioli were actually spinach pasta (green) filled with ricotta cheese and covered in a light tomato sauce. The pasta was so fresh that it melted in your mouth and the filling was delightfully and uniformly creamy - not in the least bit grainy. The sauce was pure tomato - light, fresh and not at all overpowering. If we had another free night in Rome, I may have tried dinner at Santa Lucia - lunch was very impressive.

We grabbed a few espressos and the bill before heading out to meet our tour guide for the afternoon.

After an afternoon tour of the antiquities, that included the Colosseum, the Forum Romanum, the Capitoline Hill, Trajan's Markets, etc. we retired to the roof top bar at the Hotel Raphael.

Raphael rooftop - This is one of the few places in Rome where you can get a panoramic view of the city. We arrived just before sunset and settled down with a bottle of Vino Nobile de Montepulciano to rest our feet and take in the scenery. The waiter brought us a complimentary plate of lettuce/proscuitto finger sandwiches as well as bowls of pistachios and crisps.

We were staying at the Raphael, so it was easy, but no matter where you are staying in Rome, you should make it up there for sunset. What could be a better end to a day in the eternal city than enjoying a glass of wine while the sky turns to orange, then pink, then fades to pale blue and eventually black, with the entire city spread out below you?

Ambasciatta d'Abruzze - For dinner, we headed out to Ambasciatta. The current version of this old Abruzze restaurant offers two dining options: a la carte and all you can eat. It is still very much a locals-only place, but the demographics are different than I remember (from 15 years ago). Today, the place is overrun with 20-something Romans in search of cheap eats and a jumping off point before they head out on the town.

After lunch at Santa Lucia and a snack on the roof at the Raphael, we opted to dine a la carte. We ordered Mixed Salami, Antipasto Fritti (risotto balls, meatballs and tomato crostini), Linguine Carciofi, Tonnarelli d' Abruzzo, Calamari alla griglia and a Lamb Chop. This sounds like a mountain of food, but it was quite manageable.

The salami arrived as a half dozen hunks of various sausages on a paper towel. The antipasto fritti were similarly plated with no care to presentation. Within the salami assortment were some heavily peppered morsels, some that resembled blood pudding, a greasy red, spicy version that reminded me of chorizo and a very mild version that was reminiscent of the genoa salami we get here in the States.

The antipasto fritti was far better. The risotto ball (yes, they only brought one, even though they knew we were sharing) was a great mix of cheese and risotto tossed in a fryer and reminiscent of suppli. The meatball (yes, that is singular) was also very good - light and airy, with just a hint of bread filler. The tomato crostini reminded me of a Catalan Pan Tomate - a crust of bread smothered in olive oil and fresh tomato.

The Linguine Carciofi was a rich mixture of proscuitto and artichoke hearts in a garlic cream sauce. The garlic was a little overwhelming, but in spite of it and the proscuitto, the artichoke flavor really came through. The folks at Romolo should take note.

The Tonnarelli d' Abruzzo was thick, twisted pasta in a spicy tomato based sauce with bits of bacon and green peas. The inclusion of the peas was a bit odd, but all-in, this was a hearty, spicy, stick-to-your-ribs pasta dish.

Rounding out the meal, we had the grilled squid and the lamb chop. The squid were fairly good - simply tossed on the grill and garnished with lemon. The lamb chop was a disappointment. It was cooked within an inch of its life and was both tough and very fatty.

We settled up our bill quickly and called a cab, anxious to hit the door before the chef noticed that we hadn't finished everything.

Day 3

We spent the entire morning and early afternoon in the Vatican, finally returning to Piazza Navona around 2:30 for lunch.

Tres Scalini - We chose Tres Scalini the same way we chose all of our Piazza Navona dining options - sit at whichever restaurant has the best seats available. We ordered the requisite water and red wine and then Tortellini al Tartufo and Penne Arabiatica.

This was the first time I really felt like a tourist in Rome. The "al tartufo" was so clearly out of a jar that I was tempted to say something. After eating fresh truffles all over Italy for a week, the canned variety was laughably bland and limp. A healthy shot of garlic gave the dish some backbone, but it was still a pretty sad dish.

Likewise, my penne arabiatica was thin, runny and disappointing. The spice was there, for sure, but it couldn't mask a watered-down tomato sauce and penne the consistency of cardboard. It reminded me of the pasta we were served in the cafeteria in college, which we all doused in red pepper flakes in an attempt to manufacture some flavor in it. We finished up quickly and headed across the street for gelato.

I ordered one chocolate for my wife and one pistachio for myself. The incredibly rude attendant proceeded to place alternating layers of chocolate and pistachio gelato in the same cup. He wouldn't admit his mistake and take it back, so we paid and stormed out.

The gelato itself was icy and grainy. What a nightmare. Avoid it at all costs.

After a nap, we caught a cab to the Borghese gallery in time to catch the two-hour window on our admission ticket. Too many people leave Rome without making a trip out to the Borghese because it is rather far a field and requires reservations. Do not miss this museum.

We strolled around the museum and then walked out through the gardens and around the Parioli district. Arriving early for our reservation at Al Ceppo, we killed time with a few Proseccos in the Hungarian Cafe just down the street.

Al Ceppo - This has the feel of a neighborhood restaurant. You walk into a tiny bar area and off to the right, the chef is busy grilling a wide assortment of meats over the restaurant's massive wood burning fireplace. The low, timbered ceiling and smoke from the fire wrap you in a blanket of comfort and familiarity. The patrons are almost exclusively wealthy residents of the parioli and nary a word of English is spoken - even by the waiters.

We ordered the Antipasto and a bottle of Vino Nobile de Montepulciano while we used the dictionary in the back of our tour guide to translate parts of the menu. We are pretty adventurous eaters, but I still want to know if I am ordering tenderloin or lung. We eventually decided on sharing the fettuccine carbonara and the grilled tenderloin.

The Antipasto was delicious - even by standards that had been climbing every day since arriving in Rome. Beautifully soft and creamy mozzarella, intensely flavorful sausages and rich, concentrated roasted peppers.

The pasta arrived next. As soon as it rounded the corner, I could smell the truffles. This was the cleanest, purest carbonara I have ever seen. Forget the creamy, pasty white sauce that passes for carbonara in the states. This was fettuccine tossed with pancetta, raw egg yolk and shaved black truffles. The salt from the pancetta gave it a sturdy backbone while the truffles reverberated through the egg and pork fat. The wide, soft fettuccine absorbed the egg yolk and created mouth feel similar to a big bite of bread pudding. This was heaven in a dish. Several times, my wife and I each put our forks down and just stared at our plates in awe.

Before bringing out the pasta, the waiter noticed that we intended to share each dish and without being asked, had the kitchen split the dish for us. I think my wife was most thankful for this because without the artificial boundary of separate plates, I would have happily mowed down far more than my pro rata share of this amazing dish.

As we basked in the afterglow of the pasta, we caught our breath and enjoyed a bit of wine.

Eventually the tenderloin arrived - perfectly rare slices of meat astride a pile of rosemary roasted potatoes and dressed in olive oil. The meat itself was seasoned in salt and pepper and seared over the open wood fire. The exterior was crisp and flavorful while the center stayed rare and tender. This was an amazingly good piece of meat.

The accompanying potatoes were tossed with fresh rosemary and roasted in what appeared to be pan drippings. This effect was accentuated by plating the potatoes under the slices of tenderloin to enable even more jus to be absorbed.

This was the best meal we had in Rome by a wide margin - and perhaps the best meal of the trip. There were no tricks, no gimmicks, just incredibly fresh ingredients, expertly prepared. In looking back at my notes, I doubt any dish had more than four ingredients. At 122 Euro, it was also a very good value (roughly $70 per person).

Now you have two reasons to go to the Parioli district - the Borghese museum and Al Ceppo. Both deserve a spot in your itinerary next to the Pantheon and St. Peter's.

Tres Scalini - After dinner, we went for one last stroll through the Piazza Navona and grabbed gelato at Tres Scalini (the site of this afternoon's pasta disaster). We ordered our usual flavors (chocolate and pistachio) which were both excellent. This was the best gelato we had in Rome and a fitting end to our stay.

Florence Dining

Day 1

Loggia Del Grano - We arrived in Florence, checked into our hotel and then set out towards Santa Croce. Along the way, we stumbled into Piazza de la Signoria and then down the hill into this lovely little restaurant. It was 65 degrees and sunny - not a cloud in the sky, so we really couldn't resist this open air loggia.

We shared a half liter of red wine, Pizza Margherita, and a Speck & Brie Sandwich, while we perused our tour books and maps. All of the food was awful. The wine was diluted and sour and we quickly started referring to the pizza as "Skateland pizza" - you know, the frozen stuff they serve at bowling alleys and skating rinks. The speck and brie sandwich had promise, but they grilled it within an inch of its life - burning the bread and cooking off much of the fat from the speck - what a waste.

We left the Loggia, wandered over to Santa Croce, toured the church, the leather school and the convent and then crossed the Arno to see spectacular sunset views of Florence. On our way back, we wandered over the Ponte Vecchio, past the Mercado Nuovo and wound up in the Piazza de la Republica.

Giubbe Rosse - After our long walk, we stopped here to relax over some prosecco as we watched people ride the carousel in the Piazza de la Republica. The wait staff was indifferent, bordering on gruff, but then again, after the charm of Venice, everyone seemed a little "on edge." We didn't eat anything here, but it is a lovely place to sit and take in the Piazza.

Dei Fagiole - After a nap and a shower, we headed back towards Santa Croce to this little hole in the wall that one of my friends had described as, "the best steak I have ever had." Our concierge wasn't much help at handicapping local restaurants, so we decided to go it alone. We got lost, but eventually found it and had no trouble securing a two top in the front of the restaurant. After we were seated, the place filled up with locals. I only counted one other table of English speakers and one table of polyglots - alternating between Italian, Spanish and English throughout the meal. Perhaps this is unfair, but when traveling abroad, I always follow the rule of thumb that the quality of the meal can be expected to be inversely related to the number of English speakers (particularly Americans) present.

When you walk in, the kitchen is immediately on your right and you are instantly struck by how tiny it is. Inside this cramped room, a man that closely resembles Vic Tayback's character "Mel" from the television series Alice slaves over a grill that is covered with some of the thickest porterhouse steaks you are likely to see (at least, outside of Argentina).

On the menu, steak is served by the kilo. After a bit of debate as to whether it was 2.2 lbs per kilo or 2.2 kilos per pound (I argued that with respect to selling steak, seven ounces was a much more reasonable increment than 35 ounces, but I was wrong). We ordered a one kilo, bone-in porterhouse as the main event. We also ordered a Ribolita (if not in Florence, where?), Ravioli in Red Sauce and side orders of White Beans and Spinach. In re-telling this, it sounds like an amazing amount of food for two people, but after walking all day, it seemed reasonable. We paired all of the above with a Vino Nobile de Montepulciano.

The ravioli were a simple affair - al dente noodles concealing pockets of spinach and ricotta - but the sauce was outstanding. This was the first red sauce we had tasted in Italy that reminded my wife of her Italian Grandmother's "gravy." Like the ravioli, the ribolita was simple, straightforward, yeoman's fare. It was a very solid interpretation of the classic dish - a thick, rich, hearty vegetable stew.

As we were eating our first courses, the waiter walked over with our rare steak on a plate to ensure that it met our approval. Not knowing the Italian for "looks like a steak to me" (it would be days before I picked up "va bene"), we both nodded enthusiastically, hoping our enthusiasm would mask our ignorance, like junior Hill staffers at a meeting with their representative. A few minutes later, the steak arrived at our table, still sizzling in a bath of jus. The presentation was similar to that at Peter Lugar's - the meat had been separated from the bone sliced horizontally and then reconstructed on the plate.

The steak was perfect. Salty and seared on the outside and rare in the center. The jus pooled in the plate with what I believe was a bit of beef stock. In any event, we each dove in and took turns slicing a bite-sized piece of steak and then dredging it through the collected juices. At some point, the spinach and white beans arrived, but to be honest, all of our attention was focused on the truly outstanding steak.

I left my wife to finish the last of the Vino Nobile while I went out in search of an ATM. [NOTE - Dei Fagiole is outstanding and belongs on your next Florence itinerary - but it is a CASH ONLY establishment.] We skipped dessert in favor of ending a truly Tuscan evening on an appropriate note - a short stroll and a touch of Vin Santo.

Enoteca Baldovino - We strolled East from Dei Fagiole, towards Santa Croce and wound up at Enoteca Baldovino, the Sister establishment of Trattoria Baldovino just a few doors down (just across the street from the North side of the church). We were too full for dessert, but this place had some outrageous looking desserts and cheeses and the menu at the affiliated Trattoria Baldovino looked like another good option (pizza, pasta, etc.). We settled into the bar and enjoyed a few glasses of Vin Santo before heading home.

Caffe Fiorenza - On our way back through the Piazza de la Signoria, my wife fell prey to that most powerful feminine craving: chocolate. Knowing better than to try to fight the urge, we stopped into the Caffe Fiorenza for some chocolate gelato. This soon became my wife's favorite gelato place and one that we would visit several times in the coming days.

Day 2

Trattoria Casa di Dante Gia "Pennello" - After a morning walking tour of Florence, we dropped in on this little place near Dante's house (or at least, the building that houses the Dante museum). Once again, we were the only English speakers in the place - and the back room was packed with local octogenarians.

We ordered some house red, which arrived in one of those silly rotund bottles covered in what looks like wicker. It was actually quite quaffable and we were told that we would be expected to pay for whatever we drank - no more, no less. This seemed odd, but it worked - two glasses is not enough, but sometimes you struggle to finish a half liter at lunch. Anyway, we decided to share the Ham and Paté Crostini and then each get pasta - Tagliateli with Wild Boar Ragout for me and Linguini with Pesto for my wife.

The crostini were amazing. They arrived with the paté already spread on the crostini and then topped with a slice of proscuitto. The warmth of the freshly toasted bread softened the paté and the clean saltiness of the proscuitto cut through the nutty opulence of the paté to finish cleanly. This is definitely not how we pictured the dish when we ordered it, but we can't wait to try to replicate it at home.

The Linguini with Pesto was well done, but uninspiring. The noodles were cooked properly and the sauce was a very pleasant - not too overly burdensome with garlic. Where it missed the mark was the consistency - it was lumpy and uneven so that there were pockets of noodles with little sauce at all and others where there was nothing but sauce. My wife concluded (correctly), "I make a much better pesto."

Conversely, the Tagliateli with Wild Boar Ragout was excellent. The tagliatelli were thin ribbons of melt-in-your-mouth pasta and their breadth was ideal for scooping up big batches of the hearty ragout. The ragout itself was earthy and a little smokey with the tomatoes contributing just enough acidity to cut the fat flavoring.

All-in, this was quite a find and someplace we will go back to on our next trip.

Enoteca Pinchiorri - We spent the afternoon shopping the leather stores between Ponte Vecchio and Santa Croce and then made our way to the Ferragamo museum and Santa Maria Novella (especially their "pharmacy"). After a brief nap and a shower, we headed out to our much anticipated meal at Enoteca Pinchiorri. I will describe this meal in a subsequent posting - both because of the grandeur of the meal and the fact that by itself, the meal cost nearly as much as our other eight dinners in Italy, combined.

Day 3

Golden View - We awoke on Day 3 a bit groggy from our meal at Pinchiorri (perhaps more from the wine pairings than the meal), but we fortified ourselves with some espresso and were able to squeeze in a tour of the Bargello museum before lunch. After the Bargello, we beat a hasty retreat back over the Arno in search of a nice window seat in one of the restaurants overlooking the river and wound up in the Golden View Restaurant.

We were a bit skeptical of both the English name and the fact that we were the only diners in the restaurant, but the view was spectacular, so we decided to stay. I was instantly drawn to the Four Cheese and White Truffle Crostini, which we ordered along with the Gnocchi Gorganzola, Pizza Margherita and the customary half liter of red wine.

[It was about this point in the trip that, inspired by the omnipresence and ubiquity of red wine, bottled water and espresso, my wife began referring to the three liquids as, "the Holy Trinity." From there on out, every meal incorporated the "Holy Trinity" - a half liter of red wine, a liter each of naturale and frizzante water and two espresso.]

The gnocchi gorgonzola was a massive plate of gnocchi swimming in a thick gorgonzola sauce with swirls of spinach. The sauce was sharp and rich, not at all grainy the way many cheese sauces can be. The dumplings themselves were a little hard (they definitely didn't pass my wife's "stick to the roof of your mouth" test), but I would gladly have eaten a cardboard box served in that sauce.

The Pizza Margherita afforded me just such an opportunity. The pizza was fair - actually, by the standards of what we found in Italy, it may have been the best - but it just isn't really a strong suit over there. You would have thought that by my sixth day in-country, I would have stopped ordering the stuff, but I kept hoping that eventually one of them would have some redeeming quality. I ended up using the pizza as a conduit for the luscious gorgonzola sauce - folding bits in half to form a scoop that could maximize cheese sauce throughput.

Gelateria Carabe - After lunch, we met a guide for a tour of the Ufizzi Gallery and then headed over to the Academy to see David. Just a few blocks from the Academy, heading back towards Santa Maria del Fiore, our guide told us we would find the best gelato in Florence. She boasted of using only the freshest, natural, in-season ingredients. My wife ordered chocolate chip and I opted for hazelnut.

The chocolate chip was a disaster. Imagine miniature chocolate kisses suspended in ice milk. Wretched stuff that we discarded before we reached the end of the block. The hazelnut was totally different. This was thick, gooey, frozen custard punctuated with bits of roasted hazelnuts. It had a uniformly smooth consistency with none of the ice crystals that sometimes plague gelato. I would definitely put this on your next Florence itinerary, but be careful to order flavors based at least in part upon local ingredients.

La Pentola dell'Oro - Before heading to Italy, I emailed a friend who had spent a year in Elba studying and cooking and asked, "I am going to Italy, where should I eat?" Without any notion of my itinerary, the reply came back, "you need to try Pentola dell'Oro in Florence." Luckily, Florence was on our itinerary, but the fact that my friend made this single recommendation - without knowing if we even planned to be in Florence - rocketed this restaurant to the top of our "to do" list.

Pentola was about a 20 minute walk from our hotel and didn't look like much from the outside. The front door lets you right into the kitchen, from which point a quick left turn takes you to a few large communal eating tables, crammed with locals, and a right turn takes you downstairs to a tiny (6 tables) dining room.

We had apparently made quite a stir by booking reservations a month in advance (apparently, outside of Manhattan, nobody else feels the need to do this). They greeted us enthusiastically, apologized that the hostess, who is the only one who really speaks any English, was out sick that evening. The chef/owner, Giuseppe Alessi, came out and in very broken English, apologized again, but said that he hoped we could make it through the menu together.

As we perused the menu, Giuseppe brought out bread and some of his private stash of olive oil. He held up a clear bottle containing yellowish liquid and proclaimed, "this you buy in market." He then pulled out a similar bottle full of bright green liquid and explained, "this I make." His was young, spicy and the raciest olive oil I had ever tasted. We poured some of each and the chef's own pressing made the market variety - outstanding, local Tuscan olive oil by any other measure - pallid and greasy by comparison.

As we picked over the bread and sopped up the delicious olive oil, Giuseppe led us on an Italian/English journey through the menu. He explained the ingredients in each dish as well as the careful preparation and even the history of the recipes. It turns out that when he is not cooking, Giuseppe researches Medieval texts for signs of ancient Tuscan cuisine. While others re-invent and experiment with food, he looks back - to the roots of Tuscan cuisine - and takes his inspiration from there. The result is a very eclectic combination of flavors and presentations, born from culinary passion the likes of which I have never seen before. He became more animated with every dish and the gleam in his eye flickered as he flipped over the menu and built to a crescendo - a dish he claims Brunelleschi served the men who worked on constructing the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore.

We ordered a Mixed Antipasto, Ribolita, Papardelle Chingale, Boar in Chocolate Sauce and Beef in Five Peppers with Pear (Peposo).

The antipasto was your standard spread of salami, roasted red peppers, fresh cheeses, etc. It was nothing to write home about, but after a long walk to the restaurant and the spirited discussion of the menu, it performed well at staving off our initial hunger and preparing our minds and stomachs for the culinary journey that was to follow.

Giuseppe described his ribolita by saying, "Ribolita is uniquely Tuscan and in all of Tuscany, Florence is the home of the dish - nowhere else is it authentic. I make the best ribolita in Florence, which is to say I make the best ribolita anywhere." With a lead-in like that, I had to order it. The ribolita I had two nights earlier at Dei Fagiole was some of the best I had ever had, so I was anxious to see how Guiseppe's stacked up. It arrived as a mound of thick greens and white beans, which Guiseppe dressed tableside with a liberal dosage of his homemade olive oil. The dish had the consistency of porridge - no broth at all - and the flavors were amazingly concentrated. The principal is the same as behind any other reduction - boil off the liquid to concentrate the flavor. I had never had anything like it - and I think it is safe to say Guiseppe can walk the talk.

My wife was intrigued by the papardelle chingale. After a few days in Florence, you begin consuming more boar than anything else, but again it was Guiseppe's tutorial that put us over the edge. He said, "Papardelle began in Tuscany and we still do it better than anyone else." The plate he brought out was a pile of inch wide ribbons of pasta that were so fresh that they melted in your mouth. Their supple structure and large surface area also aided in getting the thick, hearty, tomato-based boar ragout to adhere. The result was that each bite was the perfect ratio of noodle and sauce - with no effort wasted trying to chase bits of meat around the plate with your fork.

We finished each dish, then wiped the plates clean with bits of bread. Guiseppe came out and thanked us for the complement, saying "this is, for me, the best anyone can say."

The boar in chocolate sauce was described as, "like a Mexican mole, but the dish originated in Tuscany." I can not vouch for Guiseppe's anthropological accuracy, but just like when Bluto in Animal House suggested that it wasn't, "over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor," I didn't want to stop him, because he was on a roll. The presentation was awful - a steaming pile of dark brown nuggets. My wife never really got past the visual impact of the dish (perhaps owing to the fact that she shoulders the bulk of the care, feeding and cleaning up after our 115lb Labrador retriever). Oh well, I suppose the medievals were long of function and short on form. The flavor of the dish was outstanding. It was, as Guiseppe promised, very much like a Mexican mole. A combination of sweet, spicy, smokey intensity that clung to the palette even after a thorough flushing of Chianti. The boar itself was as tender as can be - like the meat from a good osso bucco - it fell apart at the first sign of contact from a fork. I thoroughly loved it and licked the plate clean.

The culmination of our culinary tour was the beef in five peppers with pear (beef peposo). This is the dish that Brunelleschi supposedly served his workers, from the kitchen he had constructed in the drum of the dome at Santa Maria del Fiore. I can't really imagine day laborers eating so richly, but then again, they were all members of the guilds, so perhaps they got good food as part of their collective bargaining agreement. The dish was nearly identical to the boar in chocolate sauce in presentation, the only difference being a slightly darker shade of brown and the occasional appearance of a sliver of white pear. The flavor was a combination of intense blood and beef essence, a little salty and very spicy. Imagine the richest beef stock, cooked down to a slurry and laced with piperine/capsaicin. Unlike many Thai and Indian dishes, where the heat comes with other flavors, this dish was primarily seasoned with peppercorns, so the heat was immediate and intense, but didn't convey much additional flavor. The pears provided a needed respite from the heat and achieved a sweet/hot balance that has proven successful in every corner of the Earth. The meat itself was a little tough, like the lamb in a good Irish stew.

At the end of the meal, we had some espresso, finished out Chianti and then Guiseppe thanked us profusely. On the way out, he gave us a copy of one of his cookbooks, apologizing that it was only in Italian.

This was a truly unique evening. I have to admit that towards the end of the meal, my wife was longing for some simple pasta and red sauce, noting that, "I could have stopped at the papardelle and been happy - the rest was more Indian than Italian," but I wouldn't have missed the experience for the World.

Caffe Fiorenza - On our way home, we bid Florence ciao! with one final trip to Caffe Fiorenza for gelato. My wife swears by the chocolate, I found the pistachio to be grainy and uneven - far inferior to the hazelnut I had had earlier that afternoon.

Venice Dining

Day 1

Le Cafe - After our long journey to Venice, our hosts suggested the quiet tranquility of Piazza San Stefano over the pigeons, tourists and 15 Euro drinks in Piazza San Marco. Le Cafe is one of several restaurants ringing the Piazza San Stefano, but as it was packed to the gills with Venetians, we were instantly drawn to it. We grabbed a candle lit table for two and settled into a few glasses of Prosecco and an order of Bruschetta Veneziana (mozzarella and anchovies on crostini, tossed under the broiler). The pairing worked well enough and the only knock on the bruschetta is that the anchovies came from a tin and way overpowered the mozzarella. When I try to recreate this at home, I will substitute milder, fresh white anchovies. Anchovies or not, the food is really an afterthought here - go for the quiet, romantic setting and watch Venetians go about their daily lives as you begin to ease into their rhythm of life.

Fiaschetteria Toscana - Several people recommended this place to me, but I couldn't find out very much about it online. When I asked our host what he thought of the place, he said, "it is very special - when the boss, my Father, is in town - this is where I take him." That was all I needed to hear.

After a relaxing stroll past the Rialto Bridge, we grabbed a cup of coffee to warm up and then headed to our reservation at Fiaschetteria Toscana. We were led to a quiet dining room upstairs where our waiter (Alberto) walked us through the menu. We opted for Tagliolini Al Tartufo, Monkfish in a saffron sauce and Serenissima (a combination of fried vegetables and fish). We paired these with a split of Soave (a good pairing) and a split of Gattinara (far too tannic for these dishes).

The Tagliolini Al Tartufo arrived first - a delicate mound of al dente pasta (think Raman noodles) drizzled in olive oil and tossed with white truffles. It was a simple, honest, homage to the white truffles (which, as luck would have it, were in season for our entire trip). Despite the simplicity of so few ingredients, the heady truffle fumes made this a very rich dish, which we were happy to share. It would have been hard for one person to eat the entire dish (though I would have liked to try).

Next, we tucked into the monkfish and the serenissima. The monkfish was amongst the freshest I have ever had and the saffron sauce was more like olive oil perfumed with saffron - very light and clean. This was served with what I will call an artichoke hash - a mixture of artichokes, tomatoes and mushrooms. The real star of the show, however, was the serenissima. It was a blend of fried calamari, shrimp, zucchini, eggplant and carrots. The consistency of the fried items was amazing. They were lightly coated in a salty batter - so lightly coated that they resembled that fine coating of sand and sea water that gathers on the windshield of your car when you park overnight near the beach. Inside, everything was just barely cooked - the seafood remained tender and the vegetables each retained their unique flavors.

For dessert, we had an apple tart with caramel ice cream. This was one of the last desserts we ate in all of Italy (excluding gelato). It was a perfectly lovely tart (sweet dough, evenly caramelized apples, not too sweet - just the sugar in the apples themselves, etc.), but we found that in general, the rest of the meal so far overshadows the desserts in Italy, that it was an anticlimactic course upon which to end. It was far better to just have a cheese course or coffee (or both) and grab a gelato on the way home.

Day 2

[________ it kills me that I can't remember the name of this place, but from the Academia, on your way to the Peggy Guggenheim, as you cross the bridge into Campo San Vio, this place is on the corner - with a wine barrel outside the door and an extensive list of wines by the glass] - After a busy morning that included a tour of Basilica San Marco, the Fenice opera house and a walk over the Academia bridge to visit the Peggy Guggenheim museum, we needed a place to cool our heels for a bit. We stumbled into this little place and sat down at the banquet that runs the length of the restaurant. The food was pretty good - especially considering the proximity to so many tourist destinations.

We shared a mammoth proscuitto and cheese panini and then a composed salad of arugula, tuna, artichokes, olives and tomatoes. I can't say that I would go out of my way to eat there again, but that is precisely the point - if you are visiting the Peggy Guggenheim or the Academia, you are already in the neighborhood and you would be hard pressed to do better. Also, embrace the semi-communal seating - order a carafe of wine and meet your neighbors - we were between a lovely British couple who gave us their passes to the Correo museum and an Australian Art Dealer just in town for the biennial, who had some interesting opinions of the US art market.

VizioVirtu - What can I say? Nestled about halfway between the Academia gallery and the Rialto bridge is this lovely little temple of decadence. After touring the Academia gallery, we set out to wander the residential streets of the Dorsoduro, more or less heading towards Santa Croce and the Rialto markets. Down a narrow side street, my wife suddenly yanked my arm, pointed to VizioVirtu's window and said, "Chocolateria translates in every language." Here again, we found ourselves amongst a predominantly Venetian crowd. People lined the L-shaped counter two and three deep, barking out orders for every size, shape and color of chocolate confection you can imagine. We had decided to just get a little bit of white chocolate macadamia bark and perhaps some dark chocolate espresso bean bark, when we noticed the glowing brass orb on the counter at the end of the bar. Our eyes nearly popped out of our heads as this Willy Wonka-esque scene was compounded by the thickest, richest, gooey-est hot chocolate oozing out of the brass vessel and into Styrofoam "to go" cups. We ordered the bark - as well as a cup of chocolate to share.

Even though the hot chocolate only filled about half of the 12oz cup, it weighed a ton. This dense, dark chocolate was barely drinkable - it eased its way down the cup towards your mouth like molasses dripping off a spoon. The taste was an explosion of pure chocolate. We nursed the cup as we continued our walk and only stopped licking the container when we realized that we had stumbled onto Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari (don't you just love how in Venice, there is a surprise waiting around every corner?).

Later that night, we tasted the two barks - both were brilliant. The white chocolate was silky smooth and an excellent medium for the very fresh macadamia nuts. The dark chocolate and espresso bean bark was like de-constructed chocolate covered espresso beans. It was a little intense on its own, but would have been sinful with a glass of port.

Enoteca Mascareta - On our way to dinner, our host suggested we stop into his friend's Enoteca, Mascareta. When we arrived, it was standing room only, with people spilled out into the alley outside. They had dozens of bottles - many from the Veneto - open for tasting and some beautiful plates of antipasto and oysters on the half shell parading by. We were about to have a large meal, so we opted for just two glasses of Bardolino. It was a lovely, light, playful version - the dominant impression was cherries - and on the whole, it was superior to any that I have had here in the States (not that I am a big Bardolino drinker).

While we were there, we witnessed the spectacle of the proprietor teaching one of the patrons how to open a bottle of Prosecco with a sword. Everyone was a bit tipsy, so we took a big step back and squinted as he knocked the neck of the bottle - cork and wire basked still intact - clear across the bar. What a hoot!

Alle Testiere - This was mentioned by some as "the best restaurant in Venice." Never one to trust statements like that, I again ran traps with our host. When I asked him his impression, he smiled, took off his glasses (more for dramatic effect than anything) and said, "it is the best - it is where I gave my wife the ring." Sold.

This restaurant is tiny - even by Venetian standards - with less than a dozen tables and a maximum seating capacity of maybe 20 or so.

I also didn't see any menus. The waiter tells you what they have that evening and makes recommendations. We opted to start with Raw Scampi (shrimp) for my wife and their famous Razor Clams for me. We paired these with a bottle of Soave Classico and told the waiter we would order more as we went.

The shrimp were amazing. Raw, head-on shrimp the likes of which you would be lucky to see in a sushi restaurant. They were peeled and served with thin slices of strawberries and a garnish of olive oil and sea salt. The meat was sweet, buttery and so fresh that you barely had to chew. The strawberries were an unexpected, but very welcome addition to the dish. When eaten together, the tartness in the strawberries cut the opulence of the shrimp.

The razor clams were equally good. Having never had them, I wasn't sure what to expect. Picture steamers, whose shells are long and thin and look like the blade of a straight razor. Inside, the meat is sweet, almost nutty and tender as can be. You would never place these succulent morsels in the same Species as those chewy, salty littlenecks we tend to steam. They were served in a pile, with no garnish whatsoever - the flavor didn't need any fancy presentation or accompaniment.

The Soave Classico held up well here. It was a darker yellow, older, wine than most of the Soave you see in Venice and had enough acidity and backbone to cut through the fatty richness of the shrimp and clams. We called the waiter over and ordered plates of Pumpkin Gnocchi and Seared tuna to share.

They split the pumpkin gnocchi order into two for us and brought it out as our next course. The gnocchi were perfectly cooked, tender, almost chewy morsels, plated with chunks of pumpkin and tossed in a sage butter. There was nothing too crazy here - pumpkin/pasta/sage butter is a time honored and universal combination of autumnal flavors. What was remarkable, however, was the combination of the extreme sweetness of the pumpkin and the herbal flourish of the sage. This was amongst the freshest sage I had ever tasted and would have easily dominated the dish, were it not for the fact that the pumpkin was so amazingly sweet. I didn't see the dish prepared, but I suspect the chef slow roasted the pumpkin (as one would do with fresh beets) to concentrate the flavors, then cut the tender flesh into bite sizes roughly equal to the size of the gnocchi.

After the gnocchi, came a plate of Seared Tuna. This arrived as a large cube of tuna, lightly seared on the outside, then thinly sliced to reveal beautiful, rare, "red Jell-O" colored meat inside. This was served with a balsamic reduction and more fresh strawberries. Strawberries and "balsamic syrup" (what you get if you cook down your balsamic vinegar) is a classic pairing, but I had never tried them with raw tuna. It actually worked very well and the tuna was sinfully fresh. By now, the Soave had given up (the balsamic was just too much for it), so we ordered two glasses of Valpolicella to finish our tuna.

Afterwards, we opted out of dessert and decided instead to share a cheese course. For a restaurant this tiny, they had a surprisingly large variety of cheeses, which they served with bread and a mostardi di fruta of sorts. Of the three cheeses that we sampled, all were good, but the one that really stood out was a blue cheese from Chianti. This was a deeply veined, pungent, almost grainy blue very much in the spirit of a Cabrales. It rendered the poor Valpolicella about as flavorful as diluted grape juice, but I loved every last bite of it.

This was truly an amazing dining experience and one I would recommend to anyone who is going to Venice. At around 120 Euro, it was also very reasonably priced.

Day 3

We awoke on Day 3 to a total rainout. Luckily, we had already covered much of our Venice itinerary and had very little planned, except a 10:45 "Secret Itinerary" tour of the Dogge's Palace. We ended up touring the Dogge's Palace until 2:30, at which point, we were completely famished.

Il Grotto - Owing to our extreme hunger and the driving rain, we were limited to eating in the area of Piazza San Marco - something we had been trying to avoid. We wandered into this little pizza joint attached to the restaurant Angelo, just a few blocks off the Piazza. It was warm and smelled of a wood fired oven and fresh basil, so we decided to stay. We ordered two pizzas - Quattro Stagione and Margherita. Both were very good, with the quattro stagione arriving in four quadrants, each with its own topping: roasted red pepper, artichokes, mushrooms and ham. After the pizza and a half bottle of the house red, we ordered coffee and then the waiter brought my wife a slice of apricot tart - gratis. This was both a lovely gesture (I think he felt sorry for us - we looked like drowned rats when we stumbled in) and an amazing pastry. The tart was some deliciously rich, apricot preserve sandwiched between layers of thick, sweet, buttery pastry dough. When we complimented the waiter, he admitted that the same chef that made the tart also made the preserves from scratch.

After a trip back to our hotel to pack our bags, nap and shower, we headed out to a few local bars before dinner.

Just across the Grand Canal, near the Rialto markets, we stopped in for some Prosecco at a bar whose name I forget, but that had a picture of a mermaid on its sign. We were easily the only English speakers in the bar and local workmen kept coming through to pick up dinner on their way home.

A few blocks away, we stopped into another local watering hole for some Lambrusco. I believe the place was called "The Devil and the Priest" or something like that (the sign had a picture of a devil and a priest on it). This was a very cute place that looked to have some decent food as well. On this particular evening, the crowd was mostly young Venetian couples and their children (strollers were double parked in the alley outside).

Trattoria alla Madonna - Just after 7:00, we made our way to Trattoria alla Madonna. They do not take reservations and we had been warned that often by 7:20 they are full to capacity. This restaurant was described as a locals-only place, despite its location just a few blocks from the Rialto bridge. Our hostess admitted that, "tourists have found out about it," but encouraged us to go anyway.

When you walk in, there is a glorious fish display, full of every kind of sea-dweller imaginable. We had already been advised to order the Gnocchi in red sauce and the Spaghetti with Black Squid, but we perused the menu for a fish dish. Finally, we gave up and asked our waiter what was the best fish they had. When he recommended John Dory, I paused, but then felt compelled to take his advice (imagine the insult at asking his advice and then ignoring it?).

The gnocchi were so tender that they stuck to the roof of your mouth. My wife was nearly in tears as she remarked that this was the sign of authentic gnocchi - the kind her Grandmother used to make. The red sauce was a straightforward affair - no meat, etc. - just very fresh, simple tomato sauce.

The spaghetti with black squid was as advertised - a plate of spaghetti covered with chunks of squid and a thick, rich, salty ink-based sauce. In addition to being a delightful flavor - a heady richness that is hard to find elsewhere in nature - it turned every diner's teeth and lips black. The couple next to us was on their honeymoon and couldn’t resist taking photos of each other with black mouths.

We probably should have stopped there. The two pasta dishes really shined, but the John Dory was a tremendous flop. It arrived in a heavy egg batter, fried and garnished with lemon. Maybe the waited mistook us for Brits, but this fish belonged wrapped in newsprint on the banks of the Thames, not on a plate in a restaurant in Venice. Inside, the fish was fresh and expertly cooked, but it was about as out of place as if he had recommended the cheeseburger.

We skipped dessert and stopped for some gelato on our way home - sad to say goodbye to Venice, but also eager for the sights and flavors of Tuscany.