A Life Worth Eating

Is there any image more evocative of la dolce vita of Italy than licking a cone of delicious gelato? Honestly, I’m not sure there is. I was lucky enough to spend nine weeks traveling all around Italy this past summer, and I had more than my fair share of gelato. 45 different gelaterie, 102 scoops of gelato, and 7 cups of granita, to be exact. During this, the second of three installments (see here and here), I’ll be sharing all of the tastiest frozen discoveries I made as I worked my way up the boot. That way, wherever and whenever you happen to find yourself in Italy, you will know a fantastic cone of gelato is never too far away. Enjoy!

ROME

My first night in Rome, I stopped by the most famous gelateria in Rome, and therefore arguably one of the most famous in all of Italy. I sampled a cup of pistacchio and zabaglione, and while I found the flavors wonderfully pure, the texture was terribly disappointing. Rough and icy, which I why I won’t be including it here in my list of favorites. Later in the week, though, I hit another very well-known spot called Giolitti, on Via Uffici del Vicario 40. Late on a Friday night, this place was PACKED. Crazy packed. I grabbed my receipt from the cashier (paying first is de rigueur) and happily joined the frenzy, trying to pick flavors from their awesome selection. I ended up going with pistacchio, riso (rice), and marron glace, and for the opting for it to be topped off with panna, or fresh whipped cream. That was the first and last time I tried that on this vacation. The overwhelming blob of unsweetened (read: tasteless) whipped cream was getting in the way of the gelato, so I ended up scraping most of it off. The gelato itself, though, was quite good. The pistachio, always my favorite, had a very pure roasted nut flavor that I quite enjoyed. The marron glace had great flavor, if just a bit of the grainy texture that often plagues foods involving chestnuts. The riso was creamy and tasty, but the rice grains were a tad too al dente, adding a slight undesirable crunch along with the desirable chew of the kernels. which affected the texture in a bad way. I would certaily return here, though.

Another afternoon, I stopped by Gelateria della Palma on Via della Maddelena 20/23. Walking in the door, I was reminded of Dylan’s Candy Bar in New York City. This is not a good thing. There was candy everywhere I looked, even in some of the gelato flavors. Bright colors all over the walls. Kids in every direction. But the place seemed came highly recommended from several different sources, so I figured I would give it a shot. This place had a LOT of flavors. I would guess somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty. But as soon as I saw four different types of pistacchio, there was no question what I was going to have. A cone of four flavors — crema di pistacchio (the usual pistachio flavor you see everywhere), pistacchio croccante (essentially crema with small pistachio chunks), pistacchio di Bronte (larger chunks of the delicious Sicilian pistachios), and stracciatella al pistacchio (crema with streaks of a Nutella-like pistachio spread throughout). It thought it was a very generous portion considering the €2.50 I paid for it. I really enjoyed tasting the different forms and textures of the same ingredient all in one cone. Each flavor was nice and creamy. Just a tad sweet, so maybe not for purists, but I quite liked it overall.

Another afternoon while exploring the Trastevere area of Rome, I stopped into La Fonta della Salute (”Fountain of Health” — see, gelato IS good for you!) on Via Cardinale Marmaggi 2. A cone of riso (rice) and pistacchio was quite good. I especially loved the texture of the riso gelato, which is actually why I’ve chosen to mention it here. It is not a flavor you run across often in the US, or even in Italy for that matter. But when it’s done well, it is a beautiful thing. The slightly chewy cooked grains of rice here were awesome, creating a unique texture in the gelato that might be described as creamy frozen rice pudding. The pistachio was pretty good as well, but nothing special. Overall, not a gelateria that warrants a special trip, perhaps, but I would recommend it if in the area. At the very least, the riso gelato is definitely worth a try.

The last place I’ll mention in the Eternal City is not a gelateria, but another type of frozen treat altogether. From Sora Mirella, on Lungotevere degli Anguillara at the corner of the Ponte Cestio, I had my first sample of grattachecca. Sitting on a bridge over the Tiber river, dangling one’s feat over the edge, with a cup of this hand-shaved ice soaked with a flavored syrup (and, optionally, topped with fresh fruit) — now that is summertime in Rome. I ordered mine flavored with almond syrup, and it was delicious. The texture of the ice was very nice, with large, flat crystals not unlike flakes of Maldon sea salt. Certainly a change of pace from the traditional Italian granita, but a very taste one.

PERUGIA

If you happen to find yourself in Umbria (and I highly recommend it — it’s like a less touristy Tuscany), odds are that if you’re traveling by train, you will make a stop in Perugia. If you find yourself there with a layover before your connecting train arrives, don’t fret. Just about a block away from the Ponte San Giovanni train station at Via Manzoni 124 is Alunni. This gelateria and caffè would be a great way to pass the time. After I found myself in that very situation waiting for my train to Siena, I had a cone of fior di latte and arancia-carota (orange-carrot), and both were very good, especially the latter. Nice creamy texture, served neither too cold and hard, nor too warm and melty. The nice purity of the flavors made me that much more surprised that the orange-carrot combination actually worked quite well. Nothing earth-shattering here, but definitely recommended if you are in the area.

FLORENCE

Finally. A city that could stand up to my beloved Palermo when it comes to gelato. The other cities I’d visited had had their high points, to be sure, but as far as consistency goes, I was starting to fear I had unfortunately saved the best for first on this vacation. Luckily, though, I found the gelato in Florence to be a wonderful thing. Here are a few standouts:

I had read so much about this place before coming to Florence that I had already dubbed it “Il famoso”. Vivoli, on Via Isole delle Stinche 7r, is inevitably the first place that comes up when “gelato” and “Florence” are mentioned in the same sentence. It was not surprising, then, that it was one of my first stops. Sometimes, such reputations can lead to overly high expectation and eventual disappointment. But this place delivered. I had a cup with three flavors: fichi (figs), pistacchio, and riso (rice). It was even kindly capped off with a little assaggio, or taste, of pere al caramello (caramelized pear). All four flavors were fantastic. I would be hard-pressed to choose a favorite among them, in fact. The clarity of each flavor was phenomenal. One minute I was eating fresh roasted pistachios, and the next biting into chewy rice grains or fresh figs. The pear flavor, too, did not disappoint. Really, really good stuff. Definitely among the best on the trip, second only to Pasticceria Alba in Palermo.

What was actually my very first stop for gelato in Florence also happened to be one of the best. Mentioned in the May 2005 Bon Appetit collector’s edition featuring Rome, Florence, and Venice, Gelateria La Carraia in Piazza N. Sauro 25r was wonderful. I had a cup of ricotta con fichi, pistacchio and fior di latte. The texture was oh-so-creamy, so perhaps not for those looking for heightened clarity of flavor. It tasted a bit sweeter than some of the other places I had tried in Italy as well, but not overly so. Regardless, texture trumped flavor for me this time. I thought this was really phenomenal, and I would go back in a heartbeat.

I don’t recall where I first read about Gelateria dei Neri on Via dei Neri 20-22r, but the name kept popping up, so I figured it was worth a try. It was. Good quality and an interesting selection of flavors. I went with pinolo (pine nut), pesca (peach) e amaretto, and cioccolato con pistacchio e peperoncino. All three flavors were nice, but the last one was a knockout. Just the right punch of spice in the back of the throat, a little crunch from the pistachio, the bittersweet richness of the chocolate. Very nice combination. Good show.

I read about this chocolate shop and gelateria on Borgo Albizi 11r called Vestri in my guidebook, and then later on the Divina Cucina site (which is a great Florence resource, by the way). I was excited to see cioccolato al peperoncino on the list of flavors outside, as the addition of a little spice seems to be just about the only way I’ll touch chocolate gelato. But they had not yet prepared it that day, so I decided to go with cioccolata bianca con le fragole (white chocolate with fresh strawberries) and pistacchio instead. The texture was ridiculously creamy. I think the picture really says it all. The flavors, too, were pure and delicious. Like eating beautiful summer berries and cream in one bite, fresh roasted nuts in the next. I did not get a chance to sample any of their chocolates, but if they are half as good at making chocolates as they are at making gelato, I may just have to give it a try next time. Very good stuff.

In a city as accessible on foot as Florence, it is sometimes tough to escape the tourist hoards. One time I was able to do so was with a special trip to a certain highly recommended place near the stadium. Badiani on Viale dei Mille 20r, was mentioned in a NYT article that was pinned up on the wall in a pastry shop called Dolce & Dolcezze (which was very good, by the way) I visited one afternoon in Florence. On foot, it was a trek from the centro storico, though I’m sure it’s painless to get there by bus. They have a nice range of different flavors, and I chose a cone of riso, babà, and cioccolato con peperoncino. The gelato was creamy as you can see, and the flavors were pure. I didn’t really dig the texture of the babà gelato, but the taste was definitely nice. Well worth a stop if you find yourself in the area, or just want to get away from the crowds for a bit.

I had already tried a branch of this gelateria in New York, and I wasn’t floored. But, as they say, when in Rome Florence… I figured I would give Grom, on the corner of Via del Campanile and Via delle Oche, another shot. The prices here were about half what they were in NYC, so it was like getting a good thing on sale. Besides, even with my self-imposed gelato-no-more-than-once-a-day rule, they had granita, so I was safe. A small cup of granita di mandorla (almond) brought me right back to Sicily. Incredibly flavorful, and the texture was just right. I went back to Grom several more times on the trip, and was never disappointed. Granita alla menta (mint) in Turin, granita al limone in Bologna, and a cone of torroncino and pistacchio gelato in Padua were all very good. Definitely a recommended stop wherever your Italian travels take you.

Is there any image more evocative of la dolce vita of Italy than licking a cone of delicious gelato? Honestly, I’m not sure there is. I was lucky enough to spend nine weeks traveling all around Italy this past summer, and I had more than my fair share of gelato. 45 different gelaterie, 102 scoops of gelato, and 7 cups of granita, to be exact. During this, the first of three installments (see here and here), I’ll be sharing all of the tastiest frozen discoveries I made as I worked my way up the boot. That way, wherever and whenever you happen to find yourself in Italy, you will know a fantastic cone of gelato is never too far away. Enjoy!

PALERMO

I started in a city so far south that it is closer to Tunisia than to Rome. Palermo, Sicily was one of my favorite cities that I visited on this trip. Often considered to be the most conquered city in the world, its culture, its language, and its cuisine are completely unique. A beautiful amalgamation of Phoenician, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Spanish, Norman, Muslim and Arab influences, there is no place like it.

I began my first walk in the city the same way I always do, in search of some food. It wasn’t long before I stumbled upon Antica Gelateria Lucchese, Piazza San Domenico 11. As you will soon see, pistacchio is the base flavor on which I rate a given gelateria (not unlike ordering pizza margherita to evaluate a pizzeria). This first cup of gelato in Italy certainly did not disappoint. Very creamy, and served neither too cold nor too warm, there was just the right amount of resistance as swept my small gelato spoon across the top to scoop up each delicious bite. This was a great introduction to real Italian gelato. I liked it so much, in fact, that I returned the next day before a lunch of pane cu’ meusa (no trip to Palermo is complete without one) to sample another distinctly Sicilian specialty, granita alle mandorle, or almond granita. While the consistency of this frozen treat varies from place to place, Italian granita is a far cry from the rock-hard snow-cone-like impostors I’d had before. If you have never been to Italy, you have never had granita. Period. One taste of this wonderful treat and you will quickly understand why the combination of granita and brioche is the Sicilian breakfast of champions.

During the rest of my time in Palermo, I was also able to sample the various locations of Spinnato. This place is clearly an institution in the city. Open since 1860, they now have five different stores, each with a slightly different focus, ranging from arancini to pasta reale to, of course, gelato. Having had something from four of those five locations now, I can definitely vouch for their consistency when it comes to both sweet and savory treats. The first gelato I tried was from Spinnato “Al Pinguino”, on Via Ruggiero Settimo 86. I had one of Sicily’s greatest gifts to mankind — the real ice cream sandwich. A fresh, golden brioche roll filled with pistacchio, fior di latte, and cassata siciliana. Believe me, it tasted as incredible as it sounds. The gelato was creamy; the brioche roll was buttery and eggy. The pistachio had a roasted-nut flavor that was very nice, the fior di latte tasted milky and fresh, and the tiny bits of candied fruit in the cassata siciliana were sweet without being cloying. A few days later, I went to Antico Caffè Spinnato on Via Principe di Belmonte 117 for another briosce con gelato, this time with just the pistacchio and cassata sicliana flavors. Maybe it being my last day in Palermo made it that much sweeter, but this was some wonderful gelato once again.

And now, friends, I will reveal a place that is very special to me. Pasticceria Alba, located in Piazza Don Bosco 7/c, is basically my idea of heaven. I literally cannot say enough good things about it. I’m going to go out on a limb here and declare it the best bakery/gelateria/bar I’ve ever been to. A bold claim, I know, but at some point I will should probably devote an entire post to the place, to tell about the fresh, hot arancina con spinaci e besciamella I tried, and the slice of cassata siciliana, and the cold, sweet and refreshing latte di mandorla. For now, though, let me talk about the gelato. A moment of silence, please, for this incredible treat… I can say, without ANY hesitation, that this is the finest gelato I’ve tasted in my life. A cone with two ridiculously delicious flavors, pistacchio di Bronte and Il Siciliano (mandorle siciliane e pistacchi di Bronte). Words cannot describe the flavor, but I’ll try. The pistachio had a distinctly roasted flavor, tasting of the purest natural essence of the nut, rather than any color or flavor additives. Il Siciliano was a wonderful symphony of flavors and textures. The slight bitterness of the Sicilian almonds, countered by the sweetness of the tiniest shards of candied almonds and pistachios. The perfectly creamy texture of the gelato was countered by the tiny intermittent crunches from chunks of roasted almond and pistachio. I was practically brought to tears it was so good. If you are simply looking for my recommendation for the best gelato in Italy, you can stop reading right now and go book your tickets to Palermo. If you ever find yourself in this city, or anywhere near it for that matter, this place undoubtedly warrants a special trip. It was only quickly mentioned in passing through my old Fodor’s guidebook, but this place is now bolded, underlined, and starred in my book, that’s for sure. Hands-down, the best food experience of a week spent eating quite well in Palermo.

NAPLES & POSITANO

In a city I visited mainly for the pizza, I still managed to find some good gelato. Much of what I sampled in the city was disappointing, especially given the wonderful gelato I’d had in Palermo. But Gay Odin on Via Croce 61 was definitely a standout. I had a cone of pistacchio and fior di latte. Both were ridiculously creamy. Served just a bit too warm, perhaps, as the picture shows. But wonderful flavor and great texture. The best I had in the area by a long shot.

Honestly, the beautiful Amalfi coast wasn’t really my cup of tea. Strikingly beautiful surroundings, no doubt, but so heavily touristed that at times it seems less like Italy and more like Disneyland. Making a few day-trips down from Naples, I spent time first in Sorrento on the way to Capri, later in Amalfi, and finally in Positano. It was in this last city that I made a delicious discovery. In an area famous worldwide for its wonderful lemons, it should have come as no surprise that there was fantastic granita di limone to be had there. My directions to find it are simple: from the main superstrada, slowly wander down Via Cristoforo Colombo, taking in the beautiful views along the way, then look for people crowding around a street cart piled high with huge lemons. This is it. Ask for a cup of refreshing granita, hand over your €1, and enjoy. Maybe I could used to this place, after all. The flavr was bright, tart, and sweet. If there is a better companion for a warm summer afternoon overlooking the cliffs of the Amalfi coast, I certainly don’t know it.

Pizzeria Sorbillo Esterina
Via Tribunali 35
Okay, I admit it. A walk down Via Tribunali in search of pizza at Sorbillo can be a bit confusing. There are two Sorbillo locations, you see, located literally about 20 feet from one another. My first day in Naples, it just so happened that the smaller of the two, with its tiny eating area holding only four tables, was the one I wandered into. I first stopped in the entryway to chat with the young pizzaiolo (literally “pizza maker”, but in my mind may as well be translated as “provider of heavenly goodness”), as he shaped and sparingly topped the pies before their seventy seconds or so in the wood-burning inferno next to him. Taking my seat in the back, I ordered the standard pie by which all pizza should be judged, the pizza margherita. San Marzano tomatoes grown in the lush volcanic soil of Campania. Milky mozzarella di bufala. A few leaves of fragrant basil, and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. And let’s not forget the most important part, the crust, which was quite tasty here — a good bit of char on the bottom, and those wonderful tiny air pockets in places. The toppings were nice, and in proper proportion to the crust. Neither too much cheese nor too much sauce. It was paper-thin in the middle, and thus suffered from the tip-drooping so common among Neapolitan pies when one attempts to cut them into pieces any bigger than a bite. Very nice introduction to Naples pizza, and for €3, not a bad deal for lunch, either.

Il Pizzaiolo del Presidente — Pizzeria e Friggitoria di Ernesto Cacialli
Via Tribunali 120/121
Official Website
Nothing wrong with a second lunch, right? … Right? …Guys? … As I wandered down the block, the lure of a fresh, hot €1 pizza from another one of Naples’ lauded pizzerias was too much to pass up. This roughly 10” hand-held pizza al forno was just crust and tomato sauce. It was unfortunately only lukewarm, but was quite tasty nonetheless. The char on the bottom was nice. The crust was a bit thicker than the one I’d just had at Sorbillo, and there was a chewiness to it that I really liked. The tomato sauce, too, was tasted bright and fresh. If I were anywhere near here, I’d probably have one of these €1 pies every day. For health reasons, of course.
As I stood across the street and happily devoured my pizza, I also had my first pizza fritta sighting. Yes, that’s right, folks. The Adkins-be-damned fried pizza, a Neapolitan specialty. But it wasn’t time for that just yet.
I did, however, come back that night for dinner. (Yeah, just a fair warning to my readers: I ate a lot of pizza on this trip!). This time I had the pizza fritta, essentially a deep-fried calzone filled with fresh ricotta cheese, prosciutto cotto (cooked ham), mozzarella, tomato and basil. Now this is an idea I can get behind. Thank God I don’t live any closer to Naples or I might not live to see 25 years old. I wasn’t such a fan of the chunks of ham, but the cheese, tomato and basil were delicious. The crust wasn’t soggy, but it wasn’t super crisp either. A decent introduction to this Neapolitan specialty, but there would eventually be much better pizza fritta on this trip. This pizza, by the way, was maybe €4 if I remember correctly.

Pizzeria Di Matteo
Via Tribunali 94
After a fried pizza, what could be more fitting for dessert than more fried things? Walking by Di Matteo, which the workers at my hostel raved about, I decided there was no need for more pizza that night (even I have limits), but there was always some room for a little snack. So I had one piece each of four different fried things. An incredibly dry and flavorless arancino, a small fried risotto ball that made me miss Sicily dearly. A piece of melanzana, or eggplant. A panserotto, a smallish stick of fried dough stuffed with mozzarella and tomato. And one of my favorite treats, a fiore di zucca, or fried zucchini flower. None of the four were particularly tasty, but at least I got my vegetables in for the day, I suppose.

On another evening, I returned here with a large group of people from my hostel. (N.B. — By “large”, I mean literally over 20, which certainly may have affected the pizza-making process). I had pizza alla cocca, with tomato sauce, mozzarella, and an egg in the middle of the pie. Very tasty combination, which was not surprising considering I’m usually a sucker for anything with egg in or on it. I wish they’d thrown the egg on later, though, as the yolk was too solidified for my tastes, cooked almost all the way through and not the slightest bit runny. The crust had a pleasant chewiness, but essentially no char. Very disappointing, but again, this could be due to the fact that there were twenty of us, and there is only so much oven heat to go around. I’d certainly try this place again, but the first visit wasn’t amazing. As a side note, they misheard my request for fiorilli, the fried zucchini flowers I mentioned above, and instead brought me a plate of friarielli, a sautéed bitter green not unlike broccoli rabe, often served in combination with sausage in Neapolitan cuisine. Simply served with olive oil, garlic, and hot pepper flakes, this was okay but not particularly enjoyable. I can see how it would be good with sausage, though. I’d try it again that way.

Da Michele
Via Cesare Sersale 1/3
Official Website
Open since 1870, this is definitely the most well-known pizzeria in Naples. About four out of every five people that walked in the door were double-checking their guidebooks to make sure they were in the right place. I would come to find out, though, that the fame is indeed justified. My pizza margherita was good. Wait, did I just say “good” when the more accurate descriptor would be “damn close to the Platonic Ideal of Pizza”? Yes, friends — this was a special pizza. The crust (which to me, as I mentioned, is definitely the most important part) was absolutely phenomenal. Beautiful irregularities in thickness and shape. Pliant, but with character. Wonderful smoky char. Light air pockets here and there. Practically a tutorial on the perfect pizza crust. Ah, yes, but the toppings. The mozzarella, let me say, was very good, and refreshingly, applied very sparingly as the picture shows. The only downside of the pie was that I found the sauce to be under-salted. I understand the Neapolitan way is often to simply use tomatoes. But a little salt, whether in the sauce itself or in the cheese, would have gone a long way. That minor gripe aside, this is an exceptional pizza, there’s no question about it. I would go back in a heartbeat. And if you find yourself in Naples with time for only one place, look no further than here. The €5 for the pizza and a drink is some of the best money one can possibly spend.

Pizzeria Salvo
Largo Arso 10/16, San Giorgio a Cremano (NA)
Official Website
I would go to great lengths for great pizza, and in this case, I did. For those without a car, Salvo is not the most accessible pizzeria to visit. From the main train station, it was a 30-minute trip on the Circumvesuviana train, followed by maybe a 30-minute walk. But I felt good about making this little pilgrimage, after the praise that eGullet.org user “Pizza Napoletana” had showered on the place. My lunch that day? Pizza margherita, of course. The crust was incredible. I would be hard-pressed to choose a favorite between this and Da Michele. Lots of irregularities. Great chewiness, but a lovely bit of crispiness, too. The mozzarella was milky and exceptionally fresh. The sauce tasted bright and delicious, showcasing both the inherent sweetness and acidity of the tomato. With a population of just over 50,000 as compared to Naples’ nearly 1,000,000, this small town may not make it onto the average tourist’s radar. But for any real pizza lovers out there, I highly recommend it. Definitely an extraordinary pie.

Brandi
Via Morelli Domenico 11
Official Website
Founded in 1780, making it among the oldest pizzerias in Naples, this was also the birthplace of the pizza margherita in 1889. So I had to check it out — for purely historical reasons, of course. Getting greedy, I upgraded the normal pizza margherita to pizza margherita D.O.C. This designation stands for d’orgine controllata, which is a governmental system put in place to protect regional products, much like France’s AOC designation. You can read some of the highly amusing set of rules, if you wish. In this case, it basically meant that the mozzarella was made from buffalo milk, rather than the cow’s milk fior di latte they would normally use. This mozzarella di bufala campana bumped the price up to a ridiculous €9. This pie was a wet mess, and only part of this can be attributed to the moisture content of the mozzarella. There was too much sauce. Too much cheese. Too much oil. The crust was had decent char and its flavor wasn’t bad, but it was much too thick around the edges and too thin in the center. This pizzeria may be where the pizza margherita started, but it is certainly not where it has been perfected.

Trianon da Ciro
Via P. Colletta 46
Official Website
After having had a lot of pizza margherita already, this time I opted for pizza alla marinara — simply crust, tomato sauce, oregano, and olive oil. And in this case, basil. This was very, very good. What I first thought was over-salted sauce turned out to be just an abundance of piquant dried oregano whose assertiveness I liked more and more with every bite. The crust was really nice. A bit thicker than some of the others I had tried, but with prominent air pockets, great chewiness, and a delicious, smoky char. A lovely dinner for just €3. Such a simple combination of ingredients, but certainly among the best pizzas I enjoyed in Naples.

Pizzeria Sorbillo Gino
Via Tribunali 32
Official Website
This time I went to the newer, much larger sit-down Sorbillo location. I soon came to find out that the name is where the similarities between the two places end. With a different pizzaiolo manning the oven here, this place turns out a very different pizza. My pizza margherita was quite good. The crust was much thinner, and much, much more crisp than any other I had in Naples. A nice char on the crust, but the thinness also meant that there was a denser crumb (see definition #3) in some places. Even so, there were plenty of air pockets scattered here and there, and the crust’s flavor was very good. The toppings were also very flavorful, especially the milky mozzarella. My personal preference tends towards a bit more chewiness in the crust, but if crispy thin crust is your thing, this is your place for sure. Pizza and water was a mere €4.40. Not a bad deal at all.

De’ Figliole
Via Giudecca Vecchia 39
My second dance with the lovely pizza fritta, this one was certainly a step up from what I sampled at Pizzaiolo del Presidente. It was filled only with fresh ricotta, tomato and basil, all quite tasty. But most importantly, the crust here was noticeably better. More crispy on the edges, and not stretched too thin in the center. At just €2 for the very sizeable “small”, this made for a wonderful snack. I was beginning to really see how good pizza fritta could be, but there would still be an even better version in my near future.

Gorizia
Via Bernini 31
Among the thicker crusts I encountered on this trip, this was also one of the smallest in diameter. Stretching maybe 7 inches or so across, this pizza margherita was pretty good. Personally, I thought it was too thick. But the char was very nice, reminiscent of Da Michele. The texture of the crust was chewy but with a slight crunch on the bottom layer. The toppings were quite flavorful as well, most notably the very fresh mozzarella. Pretty good overall, but if the pizzaiolo would stretch the dough just a bit thinner, I think it could be even better. €3.

Antica Costa
Corner of Via della Maddalena and Via Poerio
This was another recommendation from the brilliant list by eGullet member “Pizza Napoletana.” It was a little tough to find, as I couldn’t track down an address or phone number for the place. But I was in luck. At 10pm, this place was absolutely hopping, and the crowd of people waiting to take their pizza to go told me I was definitely in the right place. I soon found out why all these people were willing to wait. The pizza fritta I had here was the best I had on the trip, by a long shot. Absolutely wonderful. The filling was the house specialty, tuna (canned and packed in olive oil) and fresh cherry tomatoes. The crust was perfect. That’s the only way I can describe it. Magnificently crispy around the edges. Just the right amount of chewiness. Neither too thin nor too thick. The filling was exceptional as well. The tuna was flaky and incredibly flavorful, and the cherry tomatoes were bright bursts of sweetness when I bit into them. I really cannot say enough good things about this pizza fritta. It is just something you must try for yourself sometime. And to think that such goodness can be bought for only €3.50… If you have time to sample only one pizza fritta in Naples, don’t even think of going anyplace else. And now that I’ve passed on this amazing treasure of a place to you, all I ask in return is unconditional secrecy. Just kidding…sort of.

Lombardi
Via Foria 12
This place was recommended by my not-always-so-trusty-when-it-comes-to-food guide book, and I had time for one more lunch in Naples, so I figured why not try another pizzeria. It was a bad call to make that last place be here, though. The crust on my pizza margherita was ridiculously thick and puffy around the edges (Chicago-style deep-dish, anyone?), but soggy and thin in the middle. Pools of excess oil. A heavy-handed application of sauce and cheese. Just a mess. Don’t bother with this place. There are way too many amazing pizzerias in Naples to eat such mediocre pizza.

It didn’t take long on my trip to realize that my Fodor’s Italy guidebook wasn’t exactly infallible when it came to culinary advice. But when someone points out a restaurant as being the best in a region often considered to be the best food region in Italy, you definitely take note. I came to find out later, not surprisingly, that several food guides, from Michelin (1*) to Gambero Rosso (81), had also written about the place, so I wouldn’t exactly call it undiscovered. But nonetheless, it sounded promising, so I made the short trip up over to Asti from Alba. Not surprisingly, I chose the tasting menu that evening — Menu Tradizionale: che, dal 1971 ha fatto la storia del Gener Neuv.

Things started off some champagne, ahem, prosecco, along with four types of bread and huge grissini. The stuzzichino di benvenuto, amuse-bouche, consisted of four tastes: a frico of parmigiano-reggiano and chives topped with creamy robiola fresca cheese; a piece of an herb frittata; peperone ripieno, a yellow pepper stuffed with a creamy tuna mixture; a cube of prosciutto layered with prosciutto gelee; and finally, what tasted like some kind of potato salad. The frico topped with robiola was my favorite among the bunch, but all were pretty good.

Then came the Quadro di antipasti, composto da: Vitello tonnato, Terrina di verdure, Galantina di coniglio e mandorle, e Anguilla marinata in aceto cotto di barolo. The vitello tonnato was the best version of that dish I’ve had, with essentially carpaccio-style thin slices of rosy pink veal, topped with a tasty creamy tuna condiment redolent of briny capers and salty anchovies. Yet this classic dish is still, perhaps, not really my thing. The vegetable terrine was light and flavorful, a great summer dish. The gallantine of rabbit and almond was tasty, and had a pleasantly rustic chunky consistency. The eel, marinated in cooked Barolo vinegar, was great, definitely the best of the four. It was also served with raisins that acted as a nice sweet counterpoint to the richness of the eel.

As an alternative to any of these four antipasti that might not be to one’s liking, there was an option of Foglioline di vitello crudo, e battuta al coltello, olio, limone, e robiola di Roccaverano. I eat anything and everything, though, and once the very kind owner learned that I love raw meat, he sent this dish out to me as well. Thin slices of lean raw veal on one part of the plate, simply drizzled with olive oil, salt, and pepper. On the other side, more raw veal meat, “battered by a knife”, literally (i.e. roughly ground). This had the same simple adornments, along with a squeeze of lemon juice, and a little block of robiola di Roccaverano cheese alongside it. Fantastic. There is something special about the veal raised in the Piemonte region, no question about it. Battuta al coltello was a dish I ended up having there many more times during my time in the area, and it never disappointed.

Next up was agnolotti “ai tre stufati” (vitello, coniglio e maiale), light pasta pillows stuffed with a rich mixture of veal, rabbit, and pork. A few of pieces of pasta was a just a little bit thick and chewy near the folds around the edges, but for the texture of the pasta was very good. A bit more toothsome than most fresh homemade pastas, but not unpleasantly so. The filling was quite flavorfu, thoughI’m not sure that making it with three different types of meat really made much of a difference. As far as I’m concerned, if the traditional veal filling would be made from the same wonderful meat I’d tasted in the previous course, this needed nothing else. Overall, certainly a good dish, though.

For the secondo, I had finanziera all’astigiana (filoni, animelle, creste di galleto, funghi sott’olio, infarinati, saltati in olio d’olive e marsala). God only knows what animals, or more specifically what animal parts I was eating (well, actually, this guy knows). I’ll admit my food Italian isn’t perfect, but from what I gather, I had veins, sweetbreads, coxcombs, and marinated mushrooms all stewed together with marsala wine. This was tasty, if perhaps, surprisingly, a bit too subtle. I was expecting a bit richer flavor, but it just never came.

I spied a cheese cart, and just about all of the cheeses were new to me, so I asked if I might have a sampling before we headed toward dessert. Sure, they said. No problem. The Degustazione di formaggi piemontesi d.o.p. was absolutely fantastic. Eight different types of cheeses, along with chestnut honey, a dark cherry compote, and a fiery cherry mostarda. My favorites were one of the two types of robiola they served (the fresh, unaged one), the bra duro, and the toma di Murazzano.

I had finally made it to dessert now, with the Dolcezze di Asti: Semifreddo al torrone, Bonet, Panna cotta, Zabaione freddo al moscato d’Asti, e Sorbetto di Barolo Chinato. My, my. Everything was so good. It was my first time trying Bonet, the traditional chocolate pudding-like dessert of the region. The semifreddo was very good, as was the panna cotta. The stars, though, were the outstanding zabaglione, and the Barolo Chinato sorbet.

Of course, I wasn’t done yet, as there was still the Piccola pasticceria della casa on the way, a tray of lovely little chocolates, cookies, and confections. Always a nice way to end the meal.

All this food, by the way, was accompanied by local wines. Monferrato; Barbera d’Asti; and Moscato d’Asti with dessert. The tasting menu was €55 to begin with; the addition of the wine was nominal. The raw veal dish was gratis, and the phenomenal cheese course, I’m almost ashamed to say, only tacked on an additional €11. All said and done, I was out the door for €88. Not cheap, of course, but very well worth it, I’d say.

The family who owns and operates the restaurant was very kind, as well. The mother is the chef, with her two daughters helping in the kitchen, while her husband runs the front of the house. I spoke with all of them for a while before I departed. As I told them all about my trip, and mentioned that my next stop would be Torino. Their eyes lit up. The mother excitedly cut out a newspaper ad for me, placed it in my hand, and told me “Regardless of what else you do in Torino, go to Eataly. It is clear that you love food, and I guarantee you will love this place.” (And I did. It’s amazing.) With that, I thanked them profusely, vowed to return, and went on my way.

Listed in all the food guidebooks, this place sounded quite promising, and the unanimous verdict among the staff at Salumeria Garibaldi (my daily hangout while in Parma) was that it is the best restaurant in the city. One of the guys even had a good friend at the restaurant, so he called and made a reservation for me that evening. And by that, I mean he somehow got them to set aside a table for me (in what was a fully booked restaurant) for the whole evening. No time was set. “Just go whenever you feel like it,” I was told. Ah, small towns. Everybody knows everybody. Gotta love it.

I walked in, was greeted warmly and shown to my spacious table, already set for one. I took all of two seconds to look at the menu, and decided on the Menu degustazione di Terra, the six-course meat-based tasting menu priced at €55. Seconds later, two types of grissini, the crispy thin breadsticks, were brought out, along with four or five types of bread and crackers.

The amuse-bouche was zuppa di zucchine con crema di parmigiano, a vibrant green zucchini soup topped with a dollop of parmigiano-flavored savory whipped cream. What a wonderful way to say hello. This was nothing less than outstanding, and a very good sign of things to come.

The first proper course was Composizione di manzo crudo agli oli essenziali e piccolo hamburger (all. Paolo Parisi), composition of raw beef with essential oils and a tiny hamburger. The raw beef came in two forms: three small cubes of raw beef, with sauces of basil, cenere (slow-cooked, large onions), and orange, respectively; and a small mound of tartare infused with the traditional condiments. The piccolo hamburger was, indeed, just that. A minature bun not much bigger than a golf ball, with a (cooked) ground beef patty, lettuce, and tomato. To wash the burger down, they provided a shot glass full of birra Italiana. I don’t think I need to translate that. All were tasty, if not quite memorable, aside maybe from the outstanding basil-sauced one.

Next up was Fiori di zucca ripieni di zucchini e parmigiano cotti a vapore con salsa al tartufo nero, zucchini blossoms stuffed with finely minced zucchini and parmigiano, and dressed with black truffle. This was wonderful, with the less assertive summer truffles providing just the right level of earthiness to boost the delicate flavor of the squash blossoms without overwhelming them. Well done.

Now it was pasta time, and soon a plate of Cappellacci di anatra e borragine con salsa al vino rosso e porto al tartufo nero arrived. A stuffed pasta shape typical of the region, with a perhaps non-traditional (but incredibly flavorful) filling of duck and borrage, in a red wine, port, and truffle reduction. Man, oh man. So good. One of the best pasta dishes on the trip, undoubtedly. This was the point that I’d asked for the wine to arrive, as I thought the previous courses too delicate to compete with a glass of red wine. I chose a glass of Refosco from the Friuli region. Quite enjoyable, and I found that it went wonderfully with the pasta, and the remainder of the meal. Sure, it doesn’t have the complexity of, say, Barolo, but it doesn’t need it. It’s very, very drinkable, working with the food rather than competing with it.

Next up was Agnello rosolato al timo con tortino di melanzane al parmigiano e salsa alle spezie, a rosy-pink roasted lamb loin bathed in the fragrant perfume of fresh thyme and served alongside a little cylinder of grilled eggplant slices and creamy eggplant puree. Propped up against all this was a paper-thin slice of eggplant that had been baked, yielding an almost cracker-like crispiness. This was a nice textural counterpart to the rest of the dish, and a tasty presentation overall.

Then came the Assaggio di parmigiano di diversa stagionatura, tasting of three different ages of parmigiano-reggiano (Jan 2005/Apr 2005/Feb 2006) along with the tiniest dots of intense 25- and 35-year balsamic vinegars. “To be eaten strictly with the hands,” I was instructed. All were quite tasty, but my favorite was the youngest cheese and the older vinegar.

Pre-dessert (don’t you just love that concept?) was fior di latte gelato con fragole e aceto balsamico, a very tasty and very simple combination of creamy gelato, summery-sweet strawberries, and complex sweet-tart balsamic vinegar.

Dessert proper was Cuore di fragola e lamponi al frutto della passione, a passion-fruit mousse, whose liquid core was made of sweet strawberries and raspberries. This was outstanding; the texture of the mousse was wonderful, and the presence of the raspberry brought a nice tartness into the sweet mix.

I was not in the mood for caffé that evening, but they indulged me by bring out the piccola pasticceria, the tiny sweets that accompany the coffee, anyway. There were maybe 10 kinds of mini treats, cookies, cakes, meringue, pâté de fruit, etc. A nice touch at the end of any meal, I’d say.

This place was the first of several I would come to visit that are part of Jeunes Restaurateurs d’Europe, an association of top European chefs under the age of 35. In addition, the restaurant has earned the distinction of being listed in Le Soste, and participates in the Buon Ricordo program, which I think is a neat idea. Marco Parizzi, the chef here, and his wife Cristina, who runs the front of the house, were both very kind, and very helpful in recommending other restaurants all over Italy to try out. Cristina even went as far as photo-copying the Bologna pages from their Michelin guide for me, and giving me copies of the guide books Le Soste, Buon Ricordo, and Jeunes Restaurateurs d’Europe. Their suggestions led to some very enjoyable meals in the following weeks.

This meal struck a nice balance between tradition and innovation. It was true to its roots in Parma, but at the same time trying to expand and define what that culinary identity means today. I enjoyed chatting with Chef Marco, Cristina, and the entire staff throughout the meal. The service, which started out awkwardly stiff, quickly relaxed and was very nice overall. Certainly among the better meals I had during this vacation. Next time: Menu degustazione di Mare.