Bologna: La grassa

As I promised in an earlier post, I will continue my overview of Bologna through its nicknames, one of which is “la grassa” or, “the fat”. This name, too, is derived from two aspects of Bolognese life. First, obviously, because the food. OhhhhMioDio The food! This name is no joke. They love to eat here, and they especially love to eat well. The other side to "la grassa" is that there is a lot of wealth here. To be honest I don't am not super well informed on the economic atmosphere of the city. What I do know is that I have found it sort of weird to be "residing" in a place where I don't actually live. I don't pay (or I guess my parents, for that matter) don't pay taxes here. And they are really high because they don't have like sales tax on a lot of things. So that's convenient for me. But weird.

 Anywayyyyys back to obesity. One of my first experiences dining-wise here was at a lovely trattoria near one of our classrooms. It was on one of the very first days here when everything was in whirlwind, but I think I will remember this clearly for a while. Primarily for our waiter/host. He was phenomenal and just the appropriate amount of ridiculous. At one point he got mad at one of the girls for not finishing her pasta and telling her that “le donne migre non esitano qui” (skinny women don’t exist in this city). He then went on to explain why this is so great because they all have gigantic chests and are ideal women. Or something like that. Again, it was one of the first days and at that point my general level of understanding wasn't extremely high. Apart from the ridiculous things this man said, this place was amazing. They didn’t have a menu, instead the waiter (who, it turns out, was actually the owner of the restaurant) told us the few options for the day in beautiful detail and we just chose one. Perhaps one would worry about being able to find something with so few options if absolutely everything didn’t sound amazing. I got ravioli with zucchini flowers. It was divine. We also got a nice sampling of meats and cheeses and every time the plate was emptied our host would yell at the other waiters and tell them that we needed more. He was a character for sure. He was a lover of food. He was a lover of wine. He was a lover of people, culture, entertaining and Italy. And I got all of that from the hour-long lunch we had at his establishment as he shared all of his loves with all of the many tables of guests.

Thus began my intensive study of the Bolognese cuisine and art of dining. Which was easy enough since everyone loves talking about food and there is extreme pride in Bologna for it’s terrific selection and its famous specialties. The premiere dish of Bologna is tagliatelle a ragu, which is not spaghetti Bolognese (a strictly American dish. You won’t find that shit here). While I look fondly back upon my father’s foray into Italian cuisine that included a delicious spaghetti Bolognese, I know now that it is not entirely authentic. The Bolognese prefer their meat sauce on a flat but much wider noodle. I have had this dish a few times and enjoyed it. It is simple enough- homemade noodles with a red sauce that consists of a lot more meat than sauce. Other specialties here include tortellini and mortadella (type of sausage). I have never really like "cold-cuts" in America and now I know for sure that I won't like them when I get back because I don't think they will be able to hold a candle to the meats here. Alas, I will survive. 

Okay so I’mma stop right there real quick and talk to you about some lasagna. It deserves its own paragraph. Heck this lasagna deserved its own monument. But let's not get pazzo. During the first week here we went for a “welcome dinner” courtesy of the BCSP. We went to a restaurant and were treated to a full three-course meal (typical Italian sytle is primi piatti (pasta), secondi piatti (meat) then dessert and caffe). For the first course we had a classic ragu and a regular meat lasagana. However, I can’t believe I just called it regular lasagna because this was a dish sent down by angels. It was perfect. The noodles were obviously fresh and, along with the pasta, very fluffy and light while also creamy and savory. Oh my gosh this was the lasagna I have dreamt of my whole life. The cheese was gooey to say the least but nothing about it felt too heavy. 

(taking a moment for the Lasagna)

Since then I have had some pretty memorable meals. My roommates are great chefs, and there was, of course, the meal we had at the vineyard after our pasta making class. What in general I have gathered \ is that, and I think I may have said this already, a great meal isn't made by the perfect spices or advanced techniques. It is quality ingredients, being at the right place, at the right time and making food that you care about. After our pasta making class, to accompany our wines we had a very simple dinner of pasta, meats, cheeses, etc. and we were served these adorable heart-shaped rolls. Not only were they precious, they reminded us that everything was served with a little bit of soul. Or something like that. 

So that’s dinner. And for dessert… I mean obviously, gelato. But you all know what that tastes like. You all know it is delicious. I haven’t actually had it that many times (aren’t you proud, mom?) but I am going to start my quest for my favorite gelateria soon so you can stay tuned for that. There will be scorecards and probably tears. Oh, and plenty of nocciolata (have I mentioned I am obsessed with hazelnuts? Nutella is just a gateway drug…) So I won't go into all of that right now. Oh right after gelato in the rankings comes Kinder Bueno bars, a candy bar found pretty much everywhere here. You think I am joking. I wish I were. 85 centessimi of joy. Kinder is like the Hershey’s of Italy and produces an array of candies/confections but none as tantalizing as the Kinder Bueno bar. It’s a wafer bar filled with hazelnut (whoops. Now we know why I love them so much) cream and covered with chocolate. You have to go for the white chocolate. Trust me on that. Mamma mia these are the bomb.

Okay so that was embarrassing. I am in the food capital of Italy and I decided to dedicate exactly 94 words to a candy bar. Whelp. You win some, you lose some I guess. How about we move on to Aperitivo. I think we can all agree that it is a worthy subject. If you don't know what that is, allow me to explain. Aperitivo is literally the manifestation of concentrated genius. Basically you can go to a bar and order a drink of your choice and then you are welcome to a miniature buffet of delicious proportions. Endless food and alcohol ( not endless alcohol. That is one thing they do have in moderation here. It's just one drink, especially if it is hard alcohol. Don't worry, dad!) for about 6-8 euros? Sign me up! Sure, the food can be hit or miss but when it’s free, it’s free! I honestly don’t think the Italians realize how amazing we Americans think this is. The purpose of this for them comes from a digestive perspective and they use the aperitivo as a way to wet their appetite in preparation for dinner. We just simply can’t control ourselves and eat much more than enough to constitute a full “dinner”. #thisAmericanlife.

I don’t know what the general rules are for blog posts, but I am pretty sure there has got to be something about a text:picture ratio. I am sorry I don’t have any pictures. Some people have a talent for photographing food. I am not one of those people and refer to maintain the dignity of what I eat and not subject it to my “artistic “ vision. So, sorry. Lots of text and no pictures. I will wrap this up. I have realized lately that one of my absolute favorite things to do is to listen to people talking about things that they love. It’s fascinating to me. In general I love hearing peoples’ stories, but what is even more remarkable to me is watching people come alive and light up when they talk about the things that they hold most dear in the world. The Bolognese are, if any generalizations can be made, passionate and, more often than not, they direct that passion towards food. I can walk into a shop and ask someone what kind of chocolate is best and then get a glimpse into his or her soul.

…ok that may be taking it a little far but you get what I mean.  Working with food here is so much more than a way to earn a living. You do it because you love it, and want to share you love with others. This could easily be all in my head, but I don’t think so. Even if it is, I love experiencing it regardless.  

Ciao a tutti! A presto!