So as many of you know, I have the eating habits of a seven year old. Now, for the most part, this has not proven to be that problematic when eating in my pensione, but as far as my history class is concerned, let's just say I will be leaving hungry…
Tonight was the fourth time my History and Culture of Food in Italy has met. Instead of meeting in our usual classroom, we ventured into the city to a little restaurant for a typical four course Tuscan dinner. When my teacher (his name is Guido - I kid you not) told us what we were doing, I wasn't that concerned because I have been able to eat at every restaurant I have been to. However, this time was a little different…
First of all, our teacher wasn't very clear with directions on how to get to the restaurant, so my friends and I walked around Florence in the pouring rain trying to figure out how we were supposed to get to the restaurant. Mind you, we were supposed to meet at the restaurant at 5:30 and we didn't even get on the bus until 5:35… That was how the night started…
When we finally got to the restaurant, there were only nine of us - including our teacher… can you say awkward? Anyways, when we sat down, there were eight or so jugs - and I mean literal jugs - of wine. How many people can say that their teacher has served them their own home-grown wine - let alone just wine in general? I mean, I thought it was cool and all just because it was something that would never happen in the states, but I didn't care all that much simply because my palate doesn't allow me to appreciate wine all that much…
The first course of the four and a half hour meal was chicken liver pâté smeared on bread. Let me say that again - chicken liver… When it first came out, I shook my head and immediately decided that I was not about to put the piece of bread anywhere near my mouth. However after staring at it for a while, something came over me and believe it or not, I decided to take a bite. After swallowing the bite, I immediately regretted my decision. Not only did the stuff look like canned cat food, but it tasted like it too. It took everything in my power not to spit out the stuff into my napkin. I may have tried it, but let's just say that I will not be having any more chicken liver anytime soon…
After the waiters took away our cat food, they brought out two different kinds of "soups" - I only call them soup because that is what they told us they were, but they were definitely not your average Campbell's canned soups. The first soup had the texture of a grainy tomato paste and was made out of onions, garlic, black cabbage, and flour. The second soup was made of bread and tomatoes. Now, I've never really been much of a soup person, so these two weren't really my thing. However, I figured if I could choke down some chicken liver, I could manage some soup.
The main course was the most normal of the courses. We were given some beef that tasted like it was cooked in a croc-pot, some beans, and boiled arugula. This was by-far my favorite part of the meal, so I made sure that I ate a lot of beef so that I got my money's worth.
Next came dessert - if you can even call it that. Dessert was these little patties of fried chestnuts and raisins. I ate one, but it wasn't all that enjoyable. Along with the chestnut patties, our teacher also decided that we needed some shots to wash the patties down. Yes, you read that correctly: our teacher gave us shots. Now, let me tell you, limoncello and grappa are just not good, period. I don't know how the Italians do it…
So, needless to say, my fellow picky eater and I were still craving something sweet by the time we got back to our pensione. We went to this little gelateria down the street (where the owner knows who I am - it's really no big deal) and treated ourselves to some gelato... and crepes.
As if that wasn't enough, when we finally got back to the pensione, a group of us decided to go to one of our go-to spots, Tijuana (the only Mexican restaurant/bar in all of Florence). Even though I wasn't necessarily hungry and didn't necessarily want to drink, I had a strawberry colada and some chips purely for the social aspect of it all.
At the end of the night, I finally understood why so many people have warned me about the "Florence 50". It is 100% a real thing. If I were a normal (not picky) eater and ate everything placed in front of me, I would absolutely gain a minimum of 50 pounds. Even without eating everything, I still feel like I gained at least a couple of pounds that night. With that being said, maybe my eating habits might be the only thing that saves me from Florence's curse this semester - or at least spares me a few pounds…
Here's hoping…
Ciao for now!
Sincerely yours,
Just Another Original
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