Venetian things: Spritz

While we're on the subject of the giro hour... Here is a post from my original blog (which can be accessed through my profile on this page). It was published 9 June 2008 under the title
Spritz! (Yuk!).

No matter how long I live here, and no matter what I do, there is one great obstacle that prevents me from ever becoming a true Venetian. And that is this pretty cocktail, affectionately known as a spritz. By twenty-to-one, it’s the preferred drink here at the giro hour, or any other time of day for that matter. I see Venetians knocking these things back like cold water all day long. But a nastier concoction you have never tasted. If they locked me in the dreaded pozze (the “wells” – the darkest, dankest cells of Venice’s old prison) and would not let me out until I downed a spritz, I might well be stuck there for days.

The spritz tradition began early in the nineteenth century, when Austrian occupying troops found Venice’s wines too strong for their taste, so they cut them with water or seltzer. How the jump was made to adding another spirit to the mix is a mystery that no one has yet been able to explain to me. (I think it was probably the influence of an aggressive advertising campaign from the folks at Campari. Remember the gigantic, red neon “CAMPARI” sign that once dominated Lido’s waterfront?)

Today the correct recipe is one part dark red Campari (which tastes like the bitterest, nostril-fuming, miserable cough syrup ever made), one part prosecco (a sparkling wine, very like champagne), and one part seltzer, plus a sour green olive on a skewer and perhaps a lemon twist. (Real Venetians promptly eat the olive and drop the skewer on the ground.) Ice is optional, but if included, it’s minimal. This version is referred to as “bitter,” pronounced “bitta.” “Bitter,” indeed! For those seeking something a little sweeter, there’s also a gentler version called “Aperol,” which features the neon-orange liqueur of that name. Same recipe, but garnished with a slice of blood orange. In some grittier watering holes, the barman skips the prosecco and just fizzes up the hideous alcoholic syrup with a double squirt of seltzer, thus erasing the last trace of the original tradition of cutting wine with water.

As a rule I see older Venetians ordering “bitter,” and students and young people “Aperol.” But I can promise you, either version of this innocent-looking drink is an upchuck waiting to happen. And didn’t we all learn in high school about the disastrous hangover effect of mixing different forms of alcohol? As we say back in Michigan, “Ish!”

There is only one Venetian drink that’s worse than a spritz, and that is the sgroppino, a weird mix of melted lemon sherbet, prosecco, and vodka. Many an old-school restaurateur will proudly present you with a complimentary pony glass of this hateful yellow foam after dinner. Smile and pretend to enjoy a sip, but trust me, do not swallow anymore of it than you absolutely must.

Schiavi

Breakfast may be "the most important meal of the day," but the early evening giro is the most fun. In my opinion, this tradition is the very best part of being in Venice. Plan to do it every night! I promise you'll get hooked and want to bring this pastime home with you.

What is it?

A giro di òmbre (literally "turn of shadows") involves a nice, leisurely walk to two or three enoteche (wine bars) where your friends are hanging out. At each stop you have an ombra (a little glass of wine or a "shadow," so called because wine was once sold in the shadow of the Campanile on hot days). Sometimes your ombra comes at a reduced price because it's smaller than a regular glass, or because it's just the house wine, depending on the enoteca you visit.

With each ombra you also have one or two cicheti (little snacks, a lot like Spanish tapas). Maybe you have a crostina (little slice of bread with something delicious on it like baccalà, which is dried cod moistened and whipped with milk and oil - mellow and unusual). Or you'll try sarde in saor (fried and marinated sardines with onions and raisins) or a cute little arancino (a "little orange" that's really a ball of leftover risotto stuffed with cheese, breaded, and deep-fried). Believe me, in a very short time your giro can become your supper!

Above I show you Cantinone già Schiavi. People just call it Schiavi, or sometimes al Bottegon. And when I say people, I mean the locals: everybody in town knows this spot. It's a favorite from lunchtime to closing because the wide selection of wines is fairly-priced, the food is fresh and authentic, even innovative, and the family that runs it is very hospitable. Especially the papa.

The cicheti are mostly crostine - but oh! what crostine! I hope they have my favorites when you come: pistachio-mascarpone cream, tuna with cocoa powder, ricotta with pumpkin cream and parmesan sprinkles, gorgonzola with walnuts and sweetened balsamic vinegar, aged parmesan with a slice of ripe fig, three kinds of baccalà!

If it's warm enough, you can take your plate and glass outdoors and eat canalside. Just don't sit on the bridge, please.

And don't miss the vast selection of wines by the bottle for take-away. Lately I've heard complaints that the prices here aren't as good as they once were, but they still seem fair to me.

Cantinone già Schiavi
Dorsoduro 992, Ponte San Trovaso
041-523-0034
Closed Sunday afternoon & evening

Good Morning, Venezia!

I.e., breakfast. You want to get started on the right foot.

Forget bacon and eggs, although I suppose it’s a dim possibility at one or two of the ultra-ritzy hotels. Forget pancakes, waffles, and oatmeal altogether. Just not gonna happen here.

Venetian “toast” is a (very) dry-grilled ham and cheese on Wonder Bread (in other words, lunch for a small child). If you want a typical Venetian breakfast, head for a bar and order an espresso and a tramezzino, a pair of Wonder Bread triangles stuffed with your choice of a wide variety of fillings, usually with way too much mayonnaise. (It’s tastier than it sounds. Myself – I love them.)

So go for the continental breakfast at your hotel – it’s probably included in your room price anyway and it’s tough to find anything more than juice, coffee, and a way-too-soft croissant (which almost everyone calls a “brioche,” except old-timey Venetians who have their own word for it: curasan) or other pastry around town, and anyway you’d probably have to stand up at the bar to enjoy it, or if there is a table at which to sit, pay 2 or 3 euros extra for it.

Which is not to say you shouldn’t stop at the bars for coffee. Not at all! The coffee is rich, fresh, and wonderful just about everywhere. Stop and have one often, like the Venetians do. It takes less than one minute – “the pausa that refreshes.” Here’s the Venetian coffee menu, for your convenience (and remember Italians know almost nothing about decaf, but I suppose there's no harm in asking) --

Caffè (or) “caffetino” = small, classic espresso. Doppia = a double shot. Do not expect nor ask for a lemon twist.

Caffè lungo (or) caffè Americano = espresso with some hot water added to “lengthen” it. You can get a sidecar of whole milk for it, but there is no skimmed or lowfat milk, cream, or half & half for coffee at a bar. (Con panna or panna montata = whipped cream, but that’s only for the cioccolata calda, the hot chocolate.)

Macchiato = espresso “marked” with a mini-swirl of steamed milk foam. Venetians are generous with the foam, so it’s really more like a mini cappuccino.

Macchiatone = a large macchiato.

Cappuccino (or) “cappuccio” = espresso topped with a generous dollop of steamed milk foam. (Hint to Americans: this is not an after-dinner drink in Venice.)

Caffè latte = espresso poured into a glass of steamed milk and topped with foam. Ditto above re: no choice of half-caf, skimmed, lowfat, no-fat, chai, eggnog, etc. (Hint to Starbucks regulars: if you order this anytime other than the breakfast hour, the barman will look at you like you’re some kind of idiot.)

Caffè corretto = espresso “corrected” with a shot of some spirit, usually rocket fuel grappa… not for the faint of heart, but a warm little thrill on a cold, wet Venetian day.

Caffè orzo = “coffee” made from barley (and) caffè ginseng = caffè orzo with dirt-flavored ginseng added, supposedly to give it a healthy buzz. (Do I really have to tell you not to try these two hideous beverages?)

Te caldo = hot tea. Safe enough to order, if rather clumsily served. But te freddo is inevitably nasty peach- or lemon-flavored iced tea in a plastic bottle or a can, and it's unlikely you will get any ghiaccio (ice) with which to improve it.

So you're all set for "the most important meal of the day."

P.S. What you see pictured above is my own breakfast this past weekend: a macchiato and my much-anticipated first fritella of Carnevale 2009. The season for this treat begins the first Sunday after Epifania.

Marchini

Whenever I arrive in Venice, it’s “First things first.”

I head straight for Marchini and stock up on the top quality chocolates and other treats I will need for my stay. I cannot be expected to plan my routes and activities without these important luxuries.

Usually I choose a couple bags of their super-fresh biscotti and frolle (cookies) with their… er… colorful names. Try the Brutti ma Buoni (“ugly but good”), the Lingue di Suocera (“mother-in-law tongues”), the Baci di Dama (“lady’s kisses”), and Ossi Morti (“dead bones”).

Then I pick up at least one special bar of cioccolata extra fondente (deluxe deep, dark chocolate) and some of their real fruit-based gelatine – think “Chuckles” for very spoiled grown-ups.

While I hang around and watch the video of the maestro di cioccolata in his laboratorio in back, I snick-snack on a teeny, transparent candied clementine with chocolate glaze, a classic ricotta tart, or a mini Sachertorte. If it’s wintertime, I might even have a cup of the cioccolata calda that’s bubbling up from a fountain in the front window.

As I’m leaving the shop, I always take a quick mental inventory of the many sweet Venetian specialties that make perfect gifts and travel beautifully. Pan del Doge (a dense fruit and nut confection) and Crema dei Pistacchi (pureed, sweetened pistachio cream - odd, but surprisingly easy to use up!) have been particularly big hits with my crowd. And you never know when you might need some exceptional tidbit for the host of a dinner party or a particularly helpful concierge.

Pasticceria Marchini
San Marco 676, Spadaria
041-522-9109
www.golosessi.com

All roads lead to...

First time visitors, never worry about getting lost in Venice. It's a very small place (a bit more than twice the size of New York's Central Park, according to John Berendt's City of Falling Angels) and nearly all roads lead to Piazza San Marco or Rialto Bridge (sometimes in both directions). And to keep you oriented, there's a great, big S-shaped canal right down the middle. It separates the city into halves, each with three sestieri (sort of like boroughs or counties).

Arm yourself with a good, firm map. No flimsy paper stuff, and make sure it has street names. (I prefer Streetwise Venice - nicely laminated, easy to read, a snap to fold, fits in a pocket.) That said, don't be overly dependent on that map. Let yourself become lost now and again. In a short while you'll see a directional arrow sign like this one and be right back on track.

But heed this critical warning! A Venetian address is all but worthless to anyone but a Venetian postman. Houses and businesses in Venice are numbered sequentially in each sestiere beginning with #1. (In the sestiere of San Marco, that's the Basilica!) Addresses snake around corners, past locked gates, and through sottoporteghi (little tunnels underneath houses) and so #350 may be directly across the street from #600. Thus, you'll need your destination's campo (little square) or calle (street) name more than its address. But often you will still need the address to know your destination's sestiere because many of the same campo and calle names show up in two or more (or all six!) sestieri.

Confused? No worries. Relax, put away the map, and look up! You're in Venice!

How NOT to get here from the airport

I am almost 100% opposed to using motoscafi (water taxis) if it can be avoided. Convenience, speed, and privacy aside, this mode of transportation is, in my humble opinion, the biggest rip-off in Venice.

Fares (which must be paid in cash) vary wildly, depending on the bullying skills of the operator who is negotiating your price. I have heard of a motoscafo making the trip to Venice for a flat fee of 100 euros. I have also been present when the charge was 70 euros per person to the first stop, 20 euros additional per person for each stop thereafter. I have heard a fare amount settled on between passenger and driver, and then listened while the driver casually added on a 20% festa (holiday) charge, insisting the fare is always higher on the feast day of St. Somebody or Other. And I myself have agreed on a price of 90 euros, then had the driver demand an additional 10 euros at the end of the ride because he had asked if I wanted to take the Grand Canal route instead of the longer backwater way, and I had unwittingly said, Va bene. Did I pay him this piece of extortion money? He was sitting on my suitcase while he explained this unexpected fare increase to me. I could clearly see any further negotiation attempts would be in vain.

I grant you, there is the convenience of door-to-door delivery to be considered. But remember, if your hotel or other destination does not have a water gate, you will end up walking some distance anyway. (Ask in advance if this is a real concern.)

So, unless you've got money to burn, or you are traveling with a disabled person, or yours is a large group all bound for the same place, resist the temptation to jump into a waiting motoscafo outside the airport. Instead find the Alilaguna kiosk inside and buy tickets there. You will pay only 12 euros per person. Alilaguna boats stop at several convenient locations around Venice, as well as Murano and Lido. And you will enjoy the same water approach to the city as the motoscafo patrons with their lighter wallets.

You can save even more if you purchase 3-euro tickets for the #5 bus. It will take you straight to Piazzale Roma, Venice's bus station, quite quickly, albeit by a far less scenic route. From there all vaporetti (water buses) are available to take you anywhere you need to go.

Little Miss Know-it-all

Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Little Miss Know-it-all. Brimming over with useful information, highly enthusiastic and shamelessly opinionated.

Not about everything. Just about Venice, and how to fully enjoy it, whether for the first visit or the fiftieth.

This is a very small place with but one industry - tourism. Yet, amid that industry's relentless clutter and noise, it's very easy to waste a lot of time wandering and wondering, to overpay for mediocre or bad meals, to purchase inauthentic and shoddy merchandise, and, in general, to miss the essence of this unique and lovely place. I am always sad to learn that someone has had a so-so time (or worse!) in Venice. I always wish he or she had come to me upon arrival.

I spend a lot of time seeking out La Serenissima's superlative spots and experiences. I'm forever offering visitors (and even some longtime residents) my suggestions for where to go and what to do and - especially! - how to eat here. Afterwards, a surprising number of them take the time to tell me how pleased they were to have this insider info, how much it enhanced their time here. So...

Beginning today, for fun and for free, I give you the very best of Venice. And by that I mean my favorite places, my favorite things to do and buy and eat. You will be, I'm afraid, stuck with my personal biases. But after all, it is my "Venezia, show me" blog.

Are you ready?