Showing posts with label Ossuccio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ossuccio. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

I Have Seen the Light

On our second day here in Ossuccio, we went for lunch at an outside bar/café by the water in Lenno. And I can safely say that it was some of the worst Italian food I have ever eaten.

It was shockingly bad: my doughy, floury pasta with tasteless sauce and Steve’s pizza which was also thick and doughy with a couple slices of ham thrown haphazardly on top.

To say we were shocked was an understatement. This was the Italian food everyone we spoke to was raving about? I had had better Italian food from a frozen Lean Cuisine in the US. Well, we thought, maybe it was just this particular place in a more touristy area. Or maybe since the place we ate at was mostly a bar, it was a lesson that bar food the world over just isn’t very good.

What we needed, we decided, were some recommendations from someone local. As luck would have it, the man who owns the building we are renting in came by yesterday morning to see how we were doing. So we asked him for restaurant suggestions and he gave us a few.

Last night, we decided to try one out. The restaurant we chose was called Osteria de Giuanin, and it is located about ½ mile from where we are staying. Since it was pouring rain and since we didn’t really know where we were going, we drove part of the way, parked in a parking lot and walked down a cobbled alley between the houses until we arrived at a sign pointing us onward to the restaurant. Down some stairs we went, through another small alley between houses and then up some stairs until suddenly, there it was.

The interior was very plain: the walls decorated with framed front pages of old Italian newspapers; an unlit fireplace in one corner with wine bottles on the stone mantelpiece; a small bar in the corner, and a total of 7 or 8 tables. It felt a bit like wandering into someone’s home for a meal.

When we arrived, only two of the other tables were taken, both with Italian groups of friends chatting away. Both the chef and waitress spoke to us in English, which was life-saving, since there was no written menu.

We had an option of three starters (local fish selection; dried and salted fish or cured meats), three pastas (taglioline with mushrooms, gnocci with cheese and walnuts, and risotto with perch) fish (a fried fish or perch in sage and butter) and two different steaks.

We chose to try the fish sampler, the dried and salted fish, and then to share the risotto. Plus a half-liter carafe of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo table wine for 5 euros! There was no bottle, no vintage, no producer even!

The fish selection was very nice: small portions of smoked fish, small whole fish both in olive oil and brine, and thinly-sliced marinated zucchini. The salted and dried fish however, was absolutely delicious. The waitress said it was a local fish called Acone, which I have never heard of.

There were two of these fish (about the size of Kippers) on the plate, served whole, warm, and with two slices of what I think was fried polenta. The flesh of the fish was red in color, and it pulled away from easily from the little bones. The flavor of it was just lovely, salty and rich without being overpowering. Both of us picked it clean; it was so delicious, I was tempted to eat its head, eyeballs and all.

We were very pleased; finally, a good meal. And then, the risotto arrived, and the meal went from being good to being a revelation. Served in a portion for two on an oblong plate, the white risotto was ringed by a pool of light green olive oil and topped with thin slices of lightly fried perch.

My first bite was of the fish only, and it was delicious, delicate white fish surrounded by a lightly crisp coating. Then I ate the risotto, and that first bite elicited an “Oh. My. God.” And I think I said this after every subsequent bite.

This was the most extraordinary risotto I have ever eaten, and yet I am hard-pressed to say exactly why. It wasn’t heavily seasoned, and it didn’t have an overwhelming flavor of fish, or pumpkin, or mushroom the way risottos that I’ve had in The States always do. It wasn’t stringy with cheese, in fact I don’t think there was any in it at all.

But it was glorious: rich and creamy (for those of you who know how much I detest the words cream and creamy, the fact that I so willingly use it here should tell you how inspired I was by this food), with a delicate and simple flavor, which I assume came simply from some kind of stock and wine. And that creaminess, where does it come from? From the rice itself or from actual cream?

Eating the risotto at the same time as the fish brought a whole other level of delight as the two flavors and textures (the rich, chewy risotto with the delicate and crisp fish) combined perfectly to bring out the best in each other.

The best thing about it was how simple it all was. Even our wine, red, (in spite of the fact that we were having fish) was simple and fresh: slightly fizzy, very young and bright with flavors of cherry, black raspberry, and that very Italian earthy-iron finish.

For dessert we shared a small slice of a local cake, which she pronounced “Miasha”, which was made from bread, milk, pears, apples and nuts and was served with a small scoop of vanilla gelato. It was very much like a dry version of bread pudding, and was light and not too sweet. The gelato, of course, was delicious.

After that, we were stuffed. The tables around us, still talking animatedly, also had starters and pastas, but then followed those with plates of fish, dessert and then coffee. They were still sitting there when we left almost two hours after we had arrived.

So now I get it, the wonders of Italian food. It was exactly the kind of experience I was looking for in a meal, because I was able to say that while I have eaten risotto before, I have never eaten a risotto that tasted like That before. For me, experiencing a meal like that is one of the great joys of travel, indeed of life.

I meant to take photos of the meal, but I left the camera in the apartment, but don’t despair, I’m pretty certain we will be eating there again!

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Ossuccio and Villa del Balbianello








Greetings from Ossuccio, Italy, a tiny town on the western bank of Lake Como. The apartment is beautiful, and the views from our front balcony are stunning (photo at left), but the bells, my God, the bells. Never in my life have I experienced such an overabundance of bells. Why on earth, does one town need so many bells?

Of course, the problem is, in this area, there is one tiny town next to another, and they are extremely close together but still separate so that each town has its own church with its own bells, and these bells must all compete with one another and out-chime each other so that there is in fact a constant cacophony of bells.

And I am not kidding when I say these bells are constant. THEY ARE CONSTANT. Even now, as I write this, the 4:30 bells are chiming (but because it’s Italy, the 4:30 bells are actually chiming at 4:33). These bells are chiming out a tuneless song that now will last for at least 5 minutes.

Bells chime on the hour; they chime on the half hour; sometimes they even chime on the quarter-hour. Sometimes they chime out the time of day, but other times they just lazily ring and bing and bong for no apparent reason. They chime ALL NIGHT LONG, and at 12:30am and 7:30 am there is a particularly long and exuberant session that causes the dog out back to start howling, and ends just in time for the 7:45 bells to begin.

Never in my life have I heard so many bells, and I believe that some government somewhere will discover their usefulness as a form of torture. I’m telling you, if I had any secrets to tell I’d be spilling them now, just to get the bells to stop ringing. Please, I beg you, MAKE THEM STOP!!!!

Poor Steve is sleeping with ear plugs again, and both of us these last two mornings have woken up by 6am and have been unable to go back to sleep.

The bells are not the only issue, unfortunately. The house sits right on a very busy road, and so on top of the bells there is the added sound of cars, trucks and motorcycles rolling by day and night. The windows have pretty good sound proofing, but not enough to block it out completely, and with the beautiful view, it is a shame to not be able to enjoy the lake with the windows open.

Needless to say, it is not particularly peaceful. The street we lived on in Brooklyn was quieter than this, to give you some idea. In fact the car noise is not far off an NYC street, though without all the sirens.

There is a reason that the owners of this house ask for the money up front in cash! And it’s a real shame because the apartment is lovely and the view of the lake is extraordinary. It’s just a bit trickier to enjoy it than we would have liked. And when you’re so tired because you haven’t slept because of the street noise and the bells, it’s harder still.

I thought the bells in Alsace were bad; those at least stopped from midnight until, I think, 8 or 9 am. What I wouldn’t give for those bells now!

OK, enough complaining!!




On our first full day here, we walked over to Villa del Balbianello. For those of you who saw Casino Royale, the beautiful grounds of this villa were used as the site of James Bond’s (Daniel Craig) recovery after having his goolies smashed in by the evil Le Chiffre.

For those of you who saw that movie, I imagine you will agree with me that that scene was one of the most preposterous in Bond history. I mean, I know I’m not a man, but I was under the impression that if a guy got whacked very hard repeatedly in the old beanbags with a baseball-sized knot of rope, that man would, I don’t know….die.

Or at least pass out. Or vomit. Or both. Simultaneously. But not our James Bond. Nooooo. What does he do? He yells a bit, and then he laughs, and asks the man to do it again, because he has an itch.

Then, a few days later, he has sex. Repeatedly. Because it takes more than broken balls to keep James Bond from getting’ his groove on. I only wish they had shown Vesper's face when she got a look at Bond's manhood surrounded by eggplant-sized testicles, because, I'm sorry, those babies would swell.

Rain for the next few days, so I imagine things will be quiet: lots of sitting in cafes reading, or doing laundry, or watching Casino Royale on my computer.

Back soon, hopefully, with wine!!!