You are currently browsing the monthly archive for April 2007.
Selling chestnuts, that is.
Selling them Parisian-style : in a three-wheeler.
Roman style: on four wheels.
Somehow, they tasted better in Rome. :-p
A kick-ass camera!
“Where do you do your shopping?”
“I get my clothes at El Cheapo and Chez Snob.”
Like a lot of people I enjoy fine dining, but every once in a while I just want something simple and fresh – like a plate of fresh sea-caught fish grilled lightly and seasoned with salt, pepper and lemon. While I didn’t get that in Florence for this trip, my friends and I went to Bondi Focaccine for simple and fresh local food. The place was suggested by a classmate who lived in the city. According to her, it serves “Hot focaccia filled with your choice – patate (potato) and pesto to die for!” Now, who can pass up food with that kind of description?
Naturally, we trekked over to the place and found a small eatery that looks like what I call a bamboo bar. Why? Because the latticed walls and wooden tables and benches remind me of bamboo huts-cum-restaurants-bars in Southeast Asia. If it weren’t for the stuffed boar head, dried corns, and chilis hanging on the walls, I would have thought I was in a scene of Miss Saigon…..ok, I am exaggerating, but it felt like that.
At the end of the hut, I mean shop, is a glass counter which showcases a multitude of fillings. Ready to take orders with a frown and tons of grumbles is the Grumpy Bread Dude. He frowned and criticized everyone’s combinations of fillings. Hence, he warrants the title.
I had chosen three different fillings for my foccacia – tomatoes & olives, porcini mushrooms, and prosciutto ham. The Grumpy Bread Dude picked up a piece of foccacia, sliced it in half, put the fillings on top and placed everything in an oven/grill behind him. When properly done, he will signal for one to pick it up. Because he had grumbled about my choice of fillings for a good 40 seconds, I was determined to like my bread whether it tastes good or not. Luckily, Lady Lucky was smiling at me that day. While I don’t know what the “to die for” potato and pesto tastes like (simply because I didn’t order it. I don’t like potatoes unless they are fried), eating my trio combo was a marvelous death.
Out of curiosity, I asked my friend to share another one; this time to have the unhappy bread man compose a filling that he considers “to die for.” He made us a spinach and calamari filling. I. Didn’t. Like. It. At. All. Because I have been taught to keep silent if I have nothing nice to say, I didn’t frown, grumble, or criticize the man. Instead, the politeness in me ate every morsel. I had to wash it down with lots of coke. On the other hand, my friend enjoyed hers with a bottle of Corona.
Now that I am back in Paris where every vendor is grumpier than the Grumpy Bread Dude, I have to admit I miss his bread. Next time when I go back, I will definitely order the spinach & calamari with a bottle of Corona…..and, yes, he will grumble but I am sure he will nod at my choice.
Bondi Focaccine
Via del Ariento (between Viazionale and Via Zannoni, in Mercato di San Lorenzo)
Recent Comments