The "Zabajone" the sweet, frothing drink beaten up with eggs and sugar, is made differently in different towns. At Milan and Turin Marsala and brandy are used in it; at Venice Cyprus wine is the foundation; and elsewhere three wines are used. It is a splendidly sustaining drink, whether drunk hot or iced, and Italian doctors order it in cases of depression, and it might well find a place in the household recipes of English and American households. The wines of the various towns I have noted in writing of them. "Vino nostrano" or "del paese" brings from the waiter his list of the local juice of the grape, and the wine of the district is the wine to drink. Roughly speaking, the red wine is the best throughout Italy, the white of Bologna and the Veneto being the exceptions. Finally, do not be alarmed if at a _trattoria_ a waiter puts before you a huge flask of wine. It has been weighed before it is brought to you. It will be weighed when the waiter takes it away after you have finished, and what you have drunk, plus the great gulp the waiter is sure to take if he gets a chance, is what you will be charged for.

The Anglo-Saxon travelling in Italy is likely to strike Turin, or Milan, or Genoa as his first big town, according to the route he has chosen, and those are therefore the three towns the capabilities of which I shall first try to describe.

Turin

You will be fed well enough at your hotel whether you are at the Grand, or Kraft"s, or the Trombetta, but if you want to test the cookery of the town I should suggest a visit to the Ristorante della Meridiana, which is in the Via Santa Theresa, the street which joins the Piazza Solferino and San Carlo; or to the Ristorante del Cambio, which is in the Piazza Carignano, where stands a marble statue of a philosopher and which has a couple of palaces as close neighbours. At these, or at the Lagrange and n.a.z.ionale, both in the Via Lagrange, you will get the dishes of Turin.

If you wish to commence with _hors-d"oeuvre_, try the _Pepperoni_, which are large yellow or red chillies preserved in pressed grapes and served with oil and vinegar, salt and pepper. The _Grissini_, the little thin sticks of bread which are made in Turin and are famous for their digestible quality, will be by your plate. Next I should suggest the _Busecca_, though it is rather satisfying, being a thick soup of tripe and vegetables; and then must come a great delicacy, the trout from the Mount Cenis lake. For a meat course, if the boiled beef of the place, always excellent, is too serious an undertaking, or if the _Frittura Mista_ is too light, let me recommend the _Rognone Trifolato_, veal kidney stewed in b.u.t.ter with tomatoes and other good things, including a little Marsala wine. The white Piedmontese truffles served as a salad, or with a hot sauce, must on no account be overlooked; nor the _Cardons_, the white thistle, served with the same sauce; nor indeed the _Zucchini Ripieni_, which are stuffed pumpkins; and some _Fonduta_, the cheese of the country, melted in b.u.t.ter and eggs and sprinkled with white truffles, will form a fitting end to your repast unless you feel inclined for the biscuits of Novara, or _Gianduiotti_, which are chocolates or nougat from Alba or Cremona where they make violins as well as sweets. You should drink the wine of the country, Barbera or Barolo, Nebiolo or Freisa; and I expect, if you really persevere through half the dishes I have indicated, that you will be glad of a gla.s.s of Moscato with the fruit. Take your coffee at the Cafe Romano if you long for "local colour."

Milan

In the town of arcades, white marble, and veal cutlets I generally eat my breakfast at one of the window tables of the Biffi, from which one sees the wonderful crowd--well-groomed officers of the Bersaglieri, the pretty ladies, the wondering peasants--that goes through the great Galleria; but if there is no window table available, and the head waiter fails to understand why he should give a table retained for a constant patron to a bird of pa.s.sage, I go to the Savini, also in the great arcade, where I think the food is rather better cooked, but which has not the same tempting outlook. In the evening, if it is a cold day, I dine at the Orlogio, at the corner of the great square, a restaurant which some men find fault with, but where I have always been well treated; but if the day is hot, I as often as not go to the Cova, near the Scala, where a band plays after dinner in the garden. Such is my usual round, with a night-cap at the Gambrinus if I have been to one of the theatres; but I am penitently aware that my circle is a small one, and I am told that I should take the De Albertis and the Isola Botta into my list. Wherever one dines and wherever one breakfasts there are certain Milanese dishes which one should order. The _Minestrone_ soup is a dish which is not only found all Italy over but which is popular in Austria and on the French Riviera as well; but the _Minestrone alla Milanese_, with its wealth of vegetables and suspicion of Parmesan, is especially excellent. The _Risotto Milanese_, rice slightly _saute_ in b.u.t.ter, then boiled in capon broth, and finally seasoned with Parmesan and saffron, is one of the celebrated Milanese dishes, but the simpler methods of serving _Risotto, al sugo, al burro_, or _con fegatini_ suit better those who do not like saffron; or better still is a very well-known dish of another town, _Risotto Certosino_, in which the rice is seasoned with a sauce of crayfish and garnished with their tails.

Then come the various manners of cooking veal, the _Cotelette a la Milanese_, cutlets plunged in beaten eggs and fried in b.u.t.ter after being crumbed, and others stewed with a little red wine and flavoured with rosemary; and the _Cotelette alla Marsigliese_, of batter, then ham, then meat which, when fried, is one of the dishes of the populace on a feast-day. _Ossobuco_, a shin of veal cut into slices and stewed with a flavouring of lemon rind, is another veal dish; and so is the delicate _Fritto Picatto_ of calf"s brains, liver, and tiny slices of flesh. _Polpette a la Milanese_ are forcemeat b.a.l.l.s stewed. _Panettone_ are the cakes of the city and are much eaten at Carnival time.

Stracchino or Crescenza is a cheese much like the French _Brie_.

Gorgonzola all the world knows well; and though Parmesan takes its name from that d.u.c.h.ess of Parma who introduced it into France, the best quality comes from Lodi, near Milan. Val Policella and Valle d"Inferno are the wines to drink.

Genoa

Genoa is a town of noise and bustle. The worst curse one Genoese can p.r.o.nounce to another is "May the gra.s.s grow before your door." The Genoese restaurants have not the best reputation in the world for either cleanliness or quiet; but at the Concordia, in the Via Garibaldi, you will find a cool and pleasant garden; and at the Gottardo you will discover the Genoese cookery in all its oily perfection, for the important difference between the cuisine of Genoa and of every other Italian town is that all its dishes are prepared with olive oil instead of b.u.t.ter.

Of course Genoa has its own especial _Minestrone_ soup flavoured with _Pesto_, a paste in which pounded basil, garlic, Sardinia cheese, and olive oil are used; and the fish dishes are _Stocafisso alla Genovese_, stock-fish stewed with tomatoes and sometimes with potatoes as well, and a fry of red mullet, and _Moscardini_, which are cuttle-fish, oblong in shape and redolent of musk. The tripe of Genoa is as celebrated as that of Caen, and the _Vitello Uccelletto_, little squares of veal _saute_ with fresh tomatoes in oil and red wine, is a very favourite dish. The _Ravioli_ I have already written of. The _Faina_ somewhat resembles Yorkshire pudding made with pease-powder and oil. _Funghi a Fungetto_ are the wild red mushrooms stewed in oil with thyme and tomatoes, and _Meizanne_ is a small, bitter egg-plant, only found on the Riviera, stuffed with a cheese paste and then fried. _Pasqualina_ is an Easter pie. The figs of Genoa are excellent. The wines are those _delle cinque terre_, and in some of the cellars you will find them dating back sixty years or more.

Venice

The city on the lagoons is the next town to be considered, for Verona has scarcely a cuisine of its own, and Padua sends its best food to the Venetian market, and its Bagnoli wine as well. The Restaurant Quadri, on the north side of the Piazza of St. Mark, is one of the best-known restaurants in Europe, and it is not expensive, for one can breakfast there well enough for 4 francs.

A gourmet of my acquaintance thus describes a typical breakfast at the Quadri. "When you go to the restaurant do not be induced to go upstairs where the tourists are generally invited, but take a little table on the ground floor, where you can see all the piazza life, and begin with a _Vermouth Amaro_, in lieu of a "c.o.c.ktail." For _hors-d"oeuvre_ have some small crabs, cold, mashed up with _Sauce Tartare_, and perhaps a slice or two of _Presciuto Crudo_, raw ham cut as thin as cigarette-paper. After this a steaming _Risotto_, with _Scampe_, somewhat resembling gigantic prawns. Some cutlets done in Bologna style, a thin slice of ham on top and hot Parmesan and grated white truffles and _Fegato alla Veneziana_ complete the repast, except for a slice of Strachino cheese. A bottle of Val Policella is exactly suited to this kind of repast, and a gla.s.s of fine-champagne (De Luze) for yourself and of ruby-coloured Alkermes for the lady, if your wife accompanies you, makes a good ending. The _maitre-d"hotel_, who looks like a retired amba.s.sador, will be interested in you directly he finds that you know how a man should breakfast."

The restaurant which comes next in order in popularity with visitors is the Bauer-Grunwald, in the Via Ventidue Marzo, which has a garden with seats in it; but this is a German house, and can scarcely claim to represent anything Venetian. The Capello Nero, in the Merceria, behind the Piazza of St. Mark, is thoroughly Venetian and unpretentious, and there you may obtain the real cookery of the town; and another such _trattoria_ attached to an hotel is the Cavalletto, by the Ponte Cavalletto, close to the great square; but the Venetian cookery, it should be thoroughly understood, is not eaten in Parisian surroundings.

At the Florian Cafe, which in the summer keeps open all the night through, one gets the frothing _Zabajone_ made so stiff that a spoon stands upright in it.

There are many _birrerie_ in Venice, the Dreher being one frequented by the Italians.

The _Zuppa di Peoci_ is a soup made from the little sh.e.l.l-fish called "peoci" in Venice, and appearing under other names at Spezzia and Naples, and so fond are the Venetians of it that they flavour their rice with sauce made from it and call it _Riso coi peoci. Baccala_, or salt-cod, and _Calamai_, little cuttle-fish or octopi, looking and tasting like fried strips of soft leather, are native dishes not to be recommended; but the _Anguille di Comacchio_, the great eels from Comacchio, grilled on the spit between bay leaves, or fried or stewed, are excellent. Another Venetian dish which I can strongly recommend is the _Fegato alla Veneziana_, calf liver cut into thin slices, fried with onions in b.u.t.ter, and flavoured with lemon juice. Stewed larks, with a pudding of Veronese flour, are satisfying, and a sausage from the neighbouring Treviso, which also gives its name to the _Radici di Treviso_, is much esteemed. The _Pucca baruca_ is one of the big yellow pumpkins baked. The wines are, of course, those of the mainland, Conegliano from Treviso and Val Policella from Verona.

Bologna

"Bologna la gra.s.sa" does not belie its nick-name, and it is said that the matronly ladies, all over forty, who cook for the rotund priests, are the _cordons bleus_ of Italy. The restaurant of the Hotel Brun is the one where the pa.s.sing Anglo-Saxon generally takes his meals and a chat with the proprietor, who is generally addressed as Frank, is entertaining, for he owns vineyards behind the town, which he is happy to show to any one interested in vine-culture, and he makes his wine after the French manner. The Hotel d"Italie is more an Italian house, and the Stella d"Italia, in the Via Rizzoli, is the typical popular restaurant of the town. At the Albergo Roma, on the Via d"Azeglio, I have lunched on good food for a couple of francs.

The _Coppaletti_ I have already referred to. The _Perpadelle col Ragout_ are made of the same dough as the French _nouilles_, in narrow strips boiled and seasoned with minced meat and Parmesan cheese. Another variety of this _Perpadelle alla Bolognese_ has minced ham as a seasoning. Then come the far-famed sausages, the great _Codeghino_, boiled and served with spinach or mashed potatoes; the large, ball-shaped _Mortadella_, which is sometimes eaten raw; and the stuffed foreleg of a pig, which is boiled and served with spinach and mashed potatoes and which is a dish the Bolognese "conveyed" from Verona.

The wines are San Giovese and Lambresco.

Spezzia

Not at Spezzia itself, but at Porto Venere on the promontory at the entrance to the bay, will the gourmet find the _Zuppa di Datteri_, which is the great delicacy of the gulf. The _dattero_ is a sh.e.l.l-fish which in shape resembles a date stone. It has a very delicate taste, and is eaten stewed with tomatoes and served with a layer of toast. The little inn, Del Genio, is not too clean, but the landlord will tell you that Byron and Sh.e.l.ley made no complaints when they lived there and that they had a thorough appreciation of the dainty _datteri_. Byron is said to have written most of his _Corsair_ in a grotto at Porto Venere, and Sh.e.l.ley was cast up drowned on the sand across the gulf.

Florence

If you wish to be aristocratic in Florence you will lunch at Capitani"s in the Via Tornabuoni, and in the afternoon you will lounge about the street until it is time to drink tea and eat cake at Giacosa"s, or Doney"s, or the Albion, or Digerini"s, and Marinari"s venture, next door to the library, after which you will look in at Vieusseux"s to see if there is any news a-foot. You will then have eaten a very fair lunch cooked _a la Francaise_, and will have met in the course of the afternoon all your fellow country-men and country-women resident in Florence. If, however, you want to sample Florentine cookery, you will fly from the splendours of the road which leads to the bridge of the Trinity and will try Mellini"s in the Via Calzajoli, which runs from the Piazza della Signoria to that of the cathedral, where you will find both German and Italian dishes; or if you wish to test the native art, untouched by Teuton heaviness, go to La Toscana in the same street.

There you will find comparative quiet, and you can be quite sure that the fish you order will be fresh, for it is sent daily direct from Leghorn, where the owner of La Toscana has a branch establishment.

At night the Gambrinus in one corner of the Piazza Vittorio Emmanuele rocks with sound, a band plays at intervals, and till long past midnight red and white wine and most indifferent cigarettes are called for by the revellers. This is hardly a place at which ladies would enjoy themselves, and still less should they be taken to Paoli"s--where the young Florentines amuse themselves with good oysters and bad company until the small hours of the morning grow big--or to Picciolo"s.

The Cafe la Rosa is a typical haunt of the submerged tenth, with a corrosive drink of its own.

There are not very many dishes distinctively Florentine. _Stracotto_, braised beef with tomatoes, is one of them; and _Fegatini di pollo_, giblets stewed in wine sauce, is another. The Tuscan fowls are especially esteemed, and are roasted before a wood fire; and there is a special Florentine salad of haricot beans generally served with caviar.

The figs, of many kinds, are delicious, and _Presciutto con fichi_, fresh figs and ham, are eaten all over Tuscany. The chestnuts from the Appenines are the best flavoured in Italy. Chianti is the local wine.

The Aurora is the restaurant to be patronised at Fiesoli. It has a little garden whence there is a fine view.

Pisa

The Nettuno at Pisa is the old-fashioned Italian inn, and it used to be the restaurant patronised by the officers of the garrison, but for some reason they quarrelled with the proprietor and transferred their custom to the other Italian restaurant and inn, the Cervia.

Pisa prides itself on its puddings and confectionary. The _Pattona_ and _Castagnacci_, both _alla Pisana_, are puddings made of chestnut flour and olive oil, and flavoured with fruit. _Schiacciata_ are Easter cakes. In the afternoon, after a walk on the Lungarno, all the world of Pisa goes to Bazzeli, the pastry-cook"s shop, and there you may find the elders of the town and the high officers of the garrison, talking over affairs of State while they demolish many little cakes.

Leghorn

An Englishman who knows his Leghorn thoroughly, writes thus:--

The restaurant of the Albergo Giappone is one of the most famous eating-houses in Tuscany. The kitchen is not merely Italian, it is wholly Tuscan, and the Tuscan kitchen in skilful hands appears to content both the gourmet and the gourmand. Affairs once brought a distinguished English gourmet on a brief visit to Leghorn, and accident (for its fame had not preceded him) took him to the Giappone. Instead of staying three days, he stayed three weeks, so that he might ring all the changes of that wonderful menu, and he has since publicly declared that the kitchen of the Giappone is one of the finest in Europe. The English visitor to Leghorn is a rarity, but all famous Italians have at some time or other eaten at the Giappone--Crispi, Zanardelli, Cavallotti, Benedetto Brin, Puccini, Mascagni, to mention only a few among many. The proprietor is the Cav. Pasquale Cianfanelli, known even on the London market for the excellence of his Tuscan wines.

The full Tuscan dinner does not follow in the order of fish, entree, roast, _piece de resistance_, and game, but of boiled (_lesso_), fried (_fritto_), stewed (_umido_) and roast (_arrosto_). The boiled may be beef; the fried, sweetbread; the stewed, fish; the roast, pigeon; but this order is always maintained, and the stranger"s disappointment at there being no fish after the soup has only been equalled by his astonishment when it turns up in the fourth place. It is for this reason that the Tuscan bill of fare proves such a puzzle to the stranger with only a smattering of the language, for it is not made out under the headings of fish, entrees, joint, etc., but of _lessi_, _fritti_, _umidi_, and _arrosti_; and fish, for instance, will be found under all four headings. Famous dishes at the Giappone are _Spaghetti a sugo di carne_ (gravy sauce), _Risotto_ with white truffles, _a.r.s.elle_ (a small sh.e.l.l-fish) _alla Marinara_, _Triglie_ (red mullet) _alla Livornese_, _Fritto misto_ (mixed fry), _Controfiletto con Maccheroni_, etc. The diner cannot do better than keep to the ordinary _vino da pasto_, and end with the delicious _caffe espresso_ and a _Val d"Ema_ (Tuscan Chartreuse), green or yellow. The best Tuscan mineral water is the _Acqua Litiosa di S. Marco_ (from the province of Grosseto), and it deserves more than a merely local fame. If the traveller"s flask is not already empty, let him try some of its contents with this water, and he will have a pleasant surprise.

Another excellent restaurant in Leghorn is that attached to the Hotel d"Angleterre-Campari, owned by Signori De-Stefani and Clerici, the latter of whom was for a time in London, at the Albergo d"Italia. The cuisine is North Italian and French, and the traveller not thoroughly converted to the Tuscan table will find himself extremely well treated at the Hotel Campari.

Rome

A man who loved strange experiments in eating, once asked me in Rome to dine with him at a very cheap inn outside one of the gates, and he explained how the dinner was arranged. He had found a hostel which did not provide food, but if you bought a lamb from a shepherd outside the gate, so as to save the _octroi_, you could have it cooked in a great pot, a certain amount being charged for the cooking; and you bought your wine, as a matter of course, at the inn. The carters and herds were, he told me, the people who partook of this repast, and every man ate his own lamb, leaving little but the bones. I did not go to that inn. That place of refreshment was at one end of the social ladder, the Grand and Quirinale are at the other. Set a man down in the restaurant of the Grand, or the Winter Garden of the Quirinale, and there will be nothing to give him a hint as to whether he is in London, or Paris, or Rome. He will eat an excellent dinner--French in all respects--and will be waited on by civil waiters, whom he knows to be foreigners, but who will answer him in English whatever language he addresses them in. At either restaurant an excellent dinner of ceremony can be given. The last time that I stayed at the Grand, I ate the _table-d"hote_ dinner on several occasions and found it good. The Roma in the Corso, and the Colonna in the Piazza Colonna, are the typical city restaurants; but they have a leaning towards the French cuisine. To eat the food of Rome, try La Venete in the Via Campo Marzio, which has a garden; or, more distinctive still, the Tre Re, hard by the Pantheon, where you must talk Italian, or else make signs.

Bucci, in the Piazza della Coppelle, is the Scott"s or Driver"s of Rome, and you can dine or lunch there off sh.e.l.l-fish soup, and the fish which comes from Anzio and the other fishing villages of the coast.

There is a curious restaurant close by the station, Vagliani is, I fancy, the owner, where artichokes are the staple fare, and where the decorations are in keeping with the food. You will find the foreign colony of art students--Danes, Norwegians, Germans--in the restaurants of the Via delle Crace, Coradetti, where the food is well cooked but served without any unnecessary luxury, being perhaps the best eating-house; but the real haunt of the artist in Rome is, at the present time, the Trattoria Fiorella in the Via delle Colonelli. Only do not go and stare at him while he is taking his meals, for if you do, he will go elsewhere to another _trattoria_, the position of which he will keep a dead secret. Of course there are Roman dishes without number, and these are some of the best known of them:--

The _Zuppa di Pesce_ is a _Bouillabaisse_ without any saffron. The fish and sh.e.l.l-fish (John Dory, red mullet, cuttle-fish, lobster, whiting, muraena, and mussels) which compose it are served on toast. The _Fritto di Calamaretti_ is a fry of cuttle-fish in oil. _Cinghiale in agro dolce_ is wild boar cooked in a sauce of chocolate, sugar, plums, _pinolis_, red currant, and vinegar. A _bacchio e Capretto alla Cacciatora_ is very young lamb and sucking-goat cut into small pieces, and cooked in a sauce to which anchovies and chillies give the dominant taste. _Pollo en padella_ are spring chickens cut up and fried with tomatoes, large sweet chillies, and white wine. _Pasticcio di Maccheroni_ is an excellent macaroni pie, and _Gnocchi di Patele_ are little k.n.o.bs of paste boiled like macaroni. Broccoli, green peas cooked with b.u.t.ter and ham, and, above all, the Roman artichoke stewed in oil--which is to be obtained at its best in the old Jewish eating-houses of the Ghetto--are the vegetables of Rome. A very small ham is one of the local delicacies. _Gnocchi di latte_ are custards in layers, each of which is seasoned with either sugar or b.u.t.ter, or cinnamon or Parmesan cheese; and _Zuppa Inglese_ is a rich cake soused with liqueurs and vanilla cream, covered with meringue and baked. _Uova di Bufola_ is a little ball of cheese made from buffalo"s milk. The best kind, _Abota_ is kept in wrappings of fresh myrtle leaves. Marino (red) and Frascati (white) are two of the best local wines. Orvietto has a faint remembrance of the champagne taste. Monte Fiascone is a dessert wine.

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