FGF & WBW in Abruzzo
A Local Restaurant...
L'Aquila, 22nd-23rd August
So, after settling into our rather odd yet cheap accommodation in L'Aquila, we decided to head out immediately in search of food, it being way past our dinner time already. Also worth noting at this point is the fact that we'd decided it was high time for us to have a night off the booze - always good occasionally...
Our wander into L'Aquila was at first highly reassuring, since we discovered a buzzing little town with a great atmosphere, and a wonderful wide, bustling main street. It gradually became less so though, since we didn't seem to be able to find anywhere to eat - not a single sign of an osteria, trattoria, ristorante... Seemingly hundreds of bars though. Really great looking little bars, tons of comfortable seats, people tippling through aperitivo left, right and centre. Is it possible for a city to taunt? Quite probably if L'Aquila is a good example.
We finally found a little place, totally empty, but looking quite nice. Heading in, we checked out the checked tablecloths, and the 'typical' Italian trattoria decor. And were then met by an old, slightly rotund, waiter in a tuxedo. Which was of course exactly what we were expecting. He didn't seem keen on giving us menus, instead asking whether we wanted antipasti (not really), and then primi or secondi? We took a guess at primi being a good answer (he seemed disappointed at the lack of antipasti enthusiasm). So, what do you have? Odd look in return. And then a reluctant listing of a few pasta and a risotto. Sam got the risotto, I went for, as it turned out, very good, giant, ravioli with tomato and basil. Our waiter took our order to the kitchen, then came back in, stood against the wall, and watched us and our water. He then fetched our food out, stood back against his wall, and watched us some more. Then, thank god, another customer turned up, was fussed over and seated, and then ignored by our waiter, in favour of his leaning against the wall and watching us...
By the time we'd finished our meal, the heavens had opened, and it was utterly chucking it down. Having tired of being the star entertainment however, we decided to brave it, at least as far as the gelateria I'd spotted on the way through.
???
L'Aquila cont
After the touristy prices and serves we've been encountering in Toscana, especially Firenze, and Roma, it is so so nice to get back to somewhere where a coppetta (cup) of gelato is as big as my fist, topped with tons of no-extra-charge cream, and costs a pittance. When it also happens to be really good white chocolate flavour, well, the result is one happy little camper being laughed at by Sam.
Ristorante Remo
L'Aquila cont
This place was one I noticed on the previous night, after we'd already eaten, and which also features in the LP. It was utterly empty when we arrived - we're obviously eating a bit early for L'Aquila. No matter though, I loved this place - the entire meal was hilarious. First of all, I don't generally expect to hear songs such as Born to Be Wild in 'traditional' Italian places. Nor do I expect a very large stuffed eagle over the doorway, although in a town named The Eagle it's not as surprising.
Once we were settled, our late-twenties/early-thirties scruffy haired waiter, complete with his full tux, rumpled shirt entirely untucked, wandered over, along with another of the multitude of staff/hangers-on, who we were told spoke a bit of English. Not that he spoke to us - he just seemed interested to see us. Not being fond of menus here, our waiter just asked what we wanted - luckily we'd seen a set menu advertised outside, and said we'd go for mixed local antipasti followed by a couple of pasta dishes. We didn't get to choose the primi just yet though, the pair of them bumbled off like a pair of cheery penguins, returning with wine and antipasti.
All was delicious of course - a variety of bruschette, preserved vegetables and so on. And then the cheery penguins returned to see what we wanted for our primi. Sam chose the local speciality, to general approval, and I really can't remember what I had, other than that it was really good. I then disappeared off to the ladies, walked through the door, up the little set of stairs directly towards a cubicle, glanced into the cubicle to my left, glanced back to my right, and almost gave myself a heart attack as I came face to face with my reflection in the entirely mirrored wall, which I had assumed was further room...
After a limoncello and a grappa respectively, and much more giggling, we decided to get the bill and head on out, stopping for a quick photo opportunity for the blog. I asked our cheery penguins if they'd go and stand underneath the eagle for me, and they encouraged Sam to go and join them. He walked up behind them, and then they realised just how tall he was.
Touristy Fish
Pescara, 24th August
Pescara is a very typical Italian seaside resort, which is to say that it has lots of pay-to-bake beaches, and tons of restaurants down the seafront, mostly with neon lights and overpriced menus. We picked one at random, having briefly checked the menu and decided it could be ok.
The staff were clearly bored. We got clustered around by several, all completely confusing the issue. They then figured that we were English-speaking, and we were then subjected to an overly pushy almost-English-speaking waitress. Now, I don't mind people trying to practice their English on us at all - I am after all practicing my Italian, sometimes more poorly than others, on everyone here. What I do mind is an irritating waitress who won't listen to the whole of a question, for example "this 'frutti di mare' (seafood) antipasto, does it have the same mix of seafood as this one?" before butting in with an answer such as "seafood, this seafood". Remarkably, I managed not to brain her (arriving in Pescara had been more stressful than some places), and we got good food.
Beautiful steamed mussels, clams and so on, followed by a seafood risotto for two that turned up on a trolley and was served from there, all washed down with a nice little rose, for a change from our normal red-quaffing behaviour. And then some more of our irritating waitress when we asked for the bill, and were asked "can you pay with card?" - maybe I should've succumbed to the arsey impulse that was telling me to say yes, and watch her get confused if I then explained I didn't want to. Anyway. The food was still good, I'm just not hugely taken by the average Italian beach resort I guess.
Bouquet of Almonds please!
Sulmona, 25th-26th August
If you've already read the hotels page, you'll know I really liked Sulmona. Great cute little town, really nice vibe, feels a bit 'undiscovered' and definitely doesn't have hordes of sunbakers. It's also the centre of the Italian confetti market, confetti being sugared almonds. But not just tasty little sugared almonds, these almonds seem central to multitudes of celebrations. Not only are they given out as tokens at weddings, they're used to mark anniversaries, birthdays, christenings, graduations, communion and onomastico, which is the observance of the saint's day for whom you are named. In case you're wondering, I need to thank Fred for most of the info in this paragraph... For anniversaries, the almonds are colour-coded: pink for one year, fuschia for five, yellow 10, beige 15, silver 25, aquamarine 30, dark blue 35, green 40, red 45, gold 50, ivory 55 and white for 60. Which is cute enough, but the graduation ones are colour coded too: if you graduate in medicine you receive red almonds, letters & philosophy is white, engineering & architecture are black, yellow are for accounting and banking, purple are for business, sky blue are for languages, and law graduates get aquamarine.
I'd read about this prior to arriving, so I was expecting to see quite a few shops with shelves full of bags of colour coded almonds, and was looking forwards to getting myself a bag to munch through, since I love sugared almonds. I was so totally wrong, and not at all expecting the shops I saw en route to sort out our accommodation. It seems that making the almonds into flowers is all the rage, and so the shops all have them arranged much like florists shops arrange real flowers. This means a complete riot of colours, bouquets, every flower from african violets through roses to sunflowers complete with miniature ladybirds. It's amazing, and really quite pretty.
