Balestra

Thursday 8 July Urbino

For our last night in Urbino, we hit La Balestra (“Crossbow”), which had given off a simpatico vibration as we wandered by around lunch time.

A nice young waitress brought us a plate of papardelle di duca, broader than elsewhere, with a ragu of wild boar sausage. Then freshly snipped gnocchi with duck (real ducky with a fugitive bone or two). For secondo, we split a plate of lamb stufato (beef stew) Urbino style, which was, we must confess, a bit too salty. The meaty dishes called for a red, so “Maioliche,” from Rosso Conero (a DOGC area), 2006.

Wednesday 7 July Pizza in Urbino

Wednesday 7 July Pizza in Urbino

After the stunningly beautiful frescoes of the Oratorio di San Giovanni Battista (1415), we headed out for a night of feasting, only to find of the three restaurants recommended, one had closed for vacation, one had been renamed (and closed for vacation), and the other was just plain closed. So we sauntered into the pizzeria Morgana. The joint was pretty dead—all right, we were the only ones there at 8:00—but the staff was nice, and we had two pizzas: a classic boscaiola (woodsy with mushrooms and sausage), ‘tother with cacciota (the local creamy cheese) and picante salami. The almost too picante salami called for a flagon of the house white. A little side salad with an ingenious spritzer for the balasamic vinegar, which Holt used creatively. We left at 9:30, still the only folks there, and it was only on crossing the square that we realized what everyone else in the world knew: it was the semifinals of the World Cup, you know, where Brazil and that other country, whatzitzname, play soccer to the death.

Earlier that afternoon: other white tasty wines in the square.

1. pecorino (not just a cheese): an old grape newly revived in Abruzzi and the Marche: very lovely, crisp, cool, and long flavors.

2. Vermentino di gallura, yet another new grape, this time from Sardinia. Nice taste of peach and tangerine.

Not to mention the fabulous crescia sfogliata at Il Ragno d’Oro at the top of the citadel. Crescia (pl. cresce) is an amazingly flaky and satisfying fried puffy flatbread (not a contradiction in terms). The secret is in the lard. And we pass the calories onto you, the home reader.

A nice article about Crescia and a recipe:

http://www.bigworldmagazine.com/the-bread-of-memory/

http://rubbahslippahsinitaly.blogspot.com/2007/05/crescia-sfogliata.html

Le Tre Piante, Urbino

Tuesday 6 July

After the glories of the Palazzo ducale, and a nap (not in the museum by the way), we headed out for evening drinks on the swallow-swooped veranda of Le Tre Piante (directions below).

A little antipasto, with prosciutto, melone, various nice meats, rucola (arugala in the south and America), shaved parmesan, and pickled onions/cauliflower/mushroom/pepper, led somehow inextricably to dinner.

Two primi: tagliolini arcobaleno, the colors of the eponymous rainbow (and not “Head Whale” in case you were wondering) being the green of zucchini, red of tomatoes, and gold of eggy pasta (all house-made), with lots of little pieces of calamari. Then tagliatelle with cecchi (the chickpeas that saved the Roman Republic), rucola, and pendoini (which turn out to be grape tomatoes). All excellent, made with pride.

Address: V. Voltaccia della Vecchia 1 (☎ 0722 48 63). From P. della Repubblica, take V. Veneto, turn left on V. Nazario Sauro, right on V. Budassi, and left down the stairs onto V. Foro Posterula.

Trattoria Antica Urbino

Monday 5 July

A day mostly devoted to getting to Urbino.

(By the way, once we got to Pesaro, we asked six people, all of whom worked for the bus company and were wearing uniforms, where the bus for Urbino left from. Got only two completely different answers. Pay no attention to anyone except the woman behind the gelato counter, which, according to a very helpful, peeling, faded, xeroxed, unique, carefully hidden piece of paper, doubles as the biglitteria. She will inform you rightly that there is no espresso autobus, the claims of the OFFICAL WEBSITE for il stesso autobus notwithstanding, and is the ONLY person who actually knows what’s going on).

After settling in we chose a restaurant open on Mondays but closed on Tuesday. We arrived ridiculously early (7:55) to the very pleasant Trattoria Antica Urbino, with our choice of table (we were the first, of course), looking out over the garden where bottle-plants were growing.

An antipasto of pears wrapped in prosciutto and grilled.

Then tagliatelle al tartuffo: butter and shaved truffle, simplicity itself, and so perfect.

Only one secondo (uno per due, a useful expression) of fesa rosmarino. Fesa is veal rump, rather on the steaky side. Not a revelatory dish. With a verdura of a gratine of melanzane and tomate.

Wine: Rosso Conero by Lanari, a nicely tannic mix of Montepulciano with just a shot of Sangiovese.

Sunday Lunch: I Tri Scalin and Cucina e Butega

4 July

After a long morning in the Archeological Museum, we found ourselves on the south side of town. A recommendation from VirtualTourist stuck in the mind, that a restaurant called I Tri Scalin (who needs final vowels!) was a place where families went for Sunday lunch. It was Sunday; it was lunch time; and the ipod real came to the fore. A quick peek at the downloaded webpage gave us the address: via Darsena 52, and the sear

ch function actually found the street on a pdf map, something of a walk outside the walls, and the search function for more nice people in Ferrara, led us to the spot.

No menu, as such. The waiter reels off what they have today, but for our benefit, he did bring over a printed list, and told us what dishes “non c’è”: these included donkey stew (to Holt’s slight disappointment and greater relief). We asked about salama da sugo con purè di patate. Too hot, he said. Instead we checked off another of the classics: pasticcio di maccheroni. Take fresh elbow maccheroni, blend with a white sauce charged with nutmeg and ground meat, and bake it in puff pastry. Only the Italians can put a starch inside another starch and make magic.

The best dish, worth the detour all by itself, was the agniolini with pesto and cherry tomatoes. N

ot the usual blender pesto, but finely chopped basil (growing everywhere in July), set off by the acid of the little tomatoes. No nuts.

For a cold platter: vitello tonnato. For a hot: fritto vegetale, crackling bits of zucchini and eggplant. Plus it made its own dessert: batter-fried apples and crema, sprinkled with powered sugar.

A half liter of the house white. It effervesced. So did we.

Despite thinking we might never eat again, we did. The peckish feeling returned around 9:30 and after a pleasant walk we entered the bright and bustling Cucina e Butega (bottega to those of us whose Ferrarese is a tad rusty). All our restaurants have been rather sedate till now, so it was a pleasure to enter a well-lit, crowded, but not clattering space.

A well thought out menu of mostly slow cooked, easily plated dishes. We asked about salama da sugo con purè di patate. Too hot, he said. Holt finally understood, when Barbara likened it unto ordering “turkey with all the trimmings” in July. A restaurant might well give it to you, but would be wrong not to protect the ignorant from their follies. (Not one of the guidebooks which listed the “typical” dishes mentioned that this is a winter dish).

We ordered rabbit: coniglio disossata , which arrived in nice slices (nices slices?), rolled around prosciutto and a whole zucchini running the length. Then oca arrosta with mele verdi: goose dark and rich, where the green apples had melted into a background sauce.

The wine was called Zefiro, which we ordered purely for the name of our nephew Zephyr, Not only did it turn out to be from a region we had read about and wanted to try, the Colli Piacneti, but a totally new grape, Ortrugo. It was wonderful, bright, crisp, fading to a delicious mineral water flavor at the end. Since all the wines are frizzante by default, they use fermo to mark a wine as “still.”

Holt went up to ask about desserts and then, at the very end of our time in Ferrara, he was granted his wish: a dessert called “salama a sugo,” prepared only there, a rich creamy chocolate cake with zabaglione, which we swear is (lightly) flavored with turmeric.

And so we left Ferrara having finally sampled all the classic dishes (sort of).

(Isn’t it) La Romantica

Saturday 3 July

La Romantica is a Ferarra classic, so we had Ferrara classics. We asked abbout salama da sugo con purè di patate. Too hot, they said.

First, cappellacci di zucca, largish tortelloni filled with zucca puree, in a light cream sauce just tinged with , sprinkled with walnuts. Now, zucca is a problem word, used in Italian for every type of gourd, and universally translated as “pumpkin.” The zucca in question was what we’d call “pumpkin,” a sweet pie pumpkin with overtones of sweet potatoes, which is the combo we’ll try when we make this at home.

The other, strozzapreti, “strangled priests,” was the best. The pasta is thin irregular pieces rolled between the hands, served with a light brodo with shavings of onion, radish, carrot, celery, and fennel. Each vedge was fresh and tasted clearly of itself. A very restrained, elegant dish.

Then, a thin tuna steak, decorated with a pink grapefruit mayonnaise, and a delicate fish called pagro, in a potato crust: ultra thin slices of potato fitted around the fish and crisped in a hot oven.

The wine was Aulente, San Patrignaro, a sauvignon-chardonnay blend, a perfect fit for the fish.

(Earlier that afternoon: Kind Chiara had recommended K2 (kappa due) for gelato (Yes, it has its own facebook page). Barbara remembered the general directions and still more kind people pointed it out as it hoved into view. We had coco, stracciatella, lemon, and fior di latte.)

K2: Via Armani 30, 44100 Ferrara +39-53-224-0332

Ca’ da Frara

Friday 2 July, Ferrara

After a day in La Schifanoia (gasp-making), the Museo Lapidario (yawn-making, unless you’re the sort of person who enjoys escaping the heat to puzzle out Latin inscriptions, and you know who you are); lunch in a park (on a pickup piadina; Holt saw the sign stuck in “il famoso salame rosso” too late); a nice conversation with a girl named Chiara, who loved her home town and had studied in Virginia; then, the smaller scrappier museums: Palazzina Marfisa d'Este (mostly about the ceilings and a great barrel-vaulted “arbor”); and a quick pop into the main building of the University (only the doorway remains of the original building, but most importantly we found the bathroom, undoubtedly used by Copernicus himself), we sought out Ca’ d’ Frara (House of Ferrara in farrarese - not to be confused with Ca’ di Frara, the wine), a good restaurant. We asked about salama da sugo con purè di patate. Too hot, they said.

Holt confounded the nice waiter by (this time) ordering three primi! Even in the air-conditioning a red meat heavy meal seemed out of the question. So we ordered mussels and clams in a pleasantly spiced brodetta, with bread to sop it up.

The hit was tagliatelle in a white sauce (wine and oil only) of prosciuto: a festival of salty goodness. And for the “secondo”: a bollito misto with two cold sauces. The waiter and the waitress both referred to it as a salad, which confused the heck out of Holt, who was imagining a bowl of various boiled fishy things. Instead a salad as promised, attractively arranged, with something of a salad niçoise about it. Green beans and greens, we think, with one big prawn, several small shrimp, etc. but on the whole rather bland and we’ve already forgotten about it.