The Treasures of the Lagoon — a Guest Post

07 Dec 2012 26 Comments

by scolgin in Food, On the Road Tags: , , , , , ,

When my neighbors, Chris and Glennis, told me they were renting a flat in Venice next to the Rialto bridge — and more importantly, the famous Rialto fish market — it was all I could do to contain my envy and jealousy joy for them. I’ve always wanted to have a kitchen in Venice so I could cook the wonderful and exotic things at the Rialto market. Glennis has one of my favorite blogs, Doves Today. So I made her promise to take lots of photos and do a guest post on my blog. Without further ado, here is her richly documented contribution. Enjoy!

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The Treasures of the Lagoon

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“In Venice even ordinary sole and ugly great skate are striped with delicate lilac lights, the sardines shine like newly-minted silver coins, pink Venetian scampi are fat and fresh, infinitely enticing in the early dawn.” – Elizabeth David

In Venice, our flat faced the Grand Canal at the Calle di Boteri, just down from the Rialto Mercado. Here, the great mercantile center of Venice has operated since the 16th century, with the Erberia, the produce market, and the Pescheria, the Fish Market next to one another beside the canal. More

What’s the Bigoli Deal?

20 Nov 2012 8 Comments

by scolgin in Food, Humor, Recipes Tags: , , , , , , ,

Oftentimes when I have a specific ingredient I want to cook, I’ll have a vague recollection of a wonderful dish I had once, read about or made myself that uses said ingredient. And then I’ll set out — sometimes successfully, sometimes not — to remember what it was and find it.

Venetian bigoli in salsa

That was what was happening on a lazy Sunday afternoon as I contemplated what I was going to make for dinner. I felt like Italian, and moving jars, bags and boxes around in the pantry, I discovered a forgotten bag of whole wheat spaghetti. More

Italian Summer in a Glass

20 Jul 2012 10 Comments

by scolgin in Observations, Recipes Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

“The days were long and the nights were long and the life was good.”
—Gertrude Stein, Fiesole, Italy, Summer 1908

A few weeks ago, drinking and dining with my friends/neighbors/mortal enemies (envy is a terrible thing) Chris and Glennis before they left for a week in Venice, Italy, we got talking about Campari.

Chris was pontificating that Europe had an appreciation for bitter foods and spirits that you don’t see as much in America. That set me to forming theories and pontificating in turn about how bitter as an entire taste realm was absent altogether from American cuisine — we like our sweet (OH, how we like our sweet!) and our salty, we’ll dabble in sour. But bitter is completely unrepresented — replaced, perhaps, by fried. And more salt. More

Venice Envy

26 Jun 2012 6 Comments

by scolgin in Observations, On the Road Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

People may complain that it stinks, others that it is sinking, and still more that it is too expensive. Those who are there in the winter lament the floods that render every street and alleyway a canal. But nothing anyone will ever say can sour my love for the most romantic city of them all — Venice.

Your host on Piazza San Marco with Venetian carnival mask, a foggy morning in March, circa 199?

So it was with some degree of green that I accepted the news that our neighbors and friends, Chris and Glennis, had rented an apartment in Venice this summer. Chris added insult to injury by sending me the website for the place they were staying, complete with perfectly framed view onto the Grand Canal. In response, I did what any affronted friend would — I invited them over for a “bon voyage” Venetian dinner. More

Cicchetti

06 Apr 2012 7 Comments

by scolgin in Recipes, Video Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

The most wonderful thing about Venice is you can get completely lost, and yet never be completely lost. The city is essentially a big round island of canals and narrow pedestrian streets that all fold in on one another, leading nowhere and everywhere at once. And if you wander long enough, you’ll eventually wind up someplace you recognize — sometimes even back at the place where you started.

I remember wandering like that once through a maze of alleyways on an eerily quiet and foggy March afternoon in Venice with my sister, trying to find our way back to our penzione. Eventually frustrated in our efforts, we tucked into one of the city’s ubiquitous bàcari wine bars for refueling — a welcome glass of wine and a few plates of blissful cecchitti. More

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