HUNGRY GERALD

Eataly (the slow-food inspired emporium which began in Turin, spread throughout Italy, and has offspring in Japan and New York) is located at the very center of Bologna’s central historic district. It is the kind of food complex that every city should have. Bologna’s Eataly is a dining and information multiplex. Bookshelves and tables are laden with the timeliest works on cuisine, travel, art, design, and there is space for public readings and demonstrations. Shelves contain every shape of pasta, olive oils, vinegar, beans, grains and canned goods. An encyclopedic array of the flavors and staples needed to create superior Italian food. There’s a big, communal table on the first floor for casual dining. A trattoria on the next floor with tables for two or four. An osteria on the top floor.

HG, BSK and various members of the Riva family have frequented the trattoria. Here are some of the dishes sampled: a light, flavorful sardine tart. Linguine with a unique sauce of fresh mackerel. Steak tartare (hand chopped to a perfect consistency) served on a bed of cauliflower (someone in the kitchen has some real knife skills because the vegetable had the appearance and shape of couscous) and topped with a handful of baby arugula. A confection which consisted of shaved truffles, egg whites and potato puree (pungent and light as a feather). A new deconstruction of the hamburger — this consisted of a burger (crusty on the outside with a pink and juicy interior) seated on a thick slice of roast eggplant in a pool of light tomato sauce and topped with crumbles of goat cheese. Among the dolci were exquisite chocolate creations as well as a scoop of very fresh, sweet ricotta glazed with aged balsamic vinegar.

And, there’s another treat. Prices are very reasonable.

HG with a package of Serious Tortelloni

Ah, Sundays in Bologna. A day made for laughter-filled family dining. And, here is family HG/BSK/Riva happily seated on the sunny terrace of Trattoria Monte Donato perched on a verdant hillside overlooking the greenery and towers of Bologna’s medieval center. Abundant bottles of the house Sangiovese arrived. Then an appetite-provoking salad of radicchio and sauteed pancetta. The rendered pancetta fat was reduced in the pan with a very good balsamic vinegar which was employed as the dressing. Add a poached egg and you’d have an approximation of the frisee salad served at Chez Georges in Paris. An antipasto (another appetite provoker) of grilled polenta slices topped with lardo and pecorino cheese. There were primi of tagliatelle al ragu (the Bolognese signature dish — HG found the noodles silken and the sauce robust without an excess of fat or oil); faro soup; feather light herbaceous gnocchi; pastal al torchio with guanciale and tomatoes. Main dish was a huge platter (decorated with branches of rosemary) of crisp-roasted chicken, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes and garlic. HG had a dessert of crema catalan (the Italian version of creme brulee). There were other desserts — a plum crostata; a semifreddo al mascarpone — but HG could not focus. Too much wine, perhaps. The meal was followed by a stroll on the steep, sun-dappled slopes overlooking Bologna. Good to have an appetite. Good to be alive. Good to be in Italy. Good to have a loving family.

Yes, Bologna is a city of meat. Show a Bolognese cook a vegetable or a pasta form and his/her tendency is to stuff it or shower it with beautifully cooked, deftly spiced meat or sausage. In recent years, however, the city has sprouted a number of excellent sea food restaurants. Sale Grosso in the Bologna University neighborhood was HG and BSK’s luncheon destination. A very clean-lined, slightly austere room. Sound panels, doubling as minimal art work, affixed to the walls keep the sound level low. The few works of art are decorative and witty. Service provided by an elegant young waitperson was very civilized. Food flavors were Sicilian and Calabrian. Delicate puree of fava beans enriched with chopped, sauteed chicory. Folds of al dente pasta dressed with the typical Sicilian mixture of sardines, pignolias and fennel. All perfectly balanced, fragrances, textures and flavors playing off each other beautifully. Then came superb roast calamari and broccoli. The calamari was tender, crisp edged and spiced to allow the sea flavor to present itself without competition. Big platters of flash fried anchovies dotted with crunchy sea salt were crisp and delicious and absolutely grease free. Dessert was a confection of melting chocolate dotted with ripe cherries. A meal of sublime simplicity and memorable flavors.

There is nothing better than dining en famille. And, dining with daughter Lesley R., husband Profesore/Dottore Massimo R. and the Daughters Beautiful, Arianna and Sofia, in the Riva/Brown University Bologna apartment surpasses all expectations. Exhausted from 11 hours of air travel and a mighty schlep in the Frankfurt airport, HG and BSK were revived by a superb group of Bolognese, Roman (and Tuscan) specialties. There was a puntarelle salad (the pungent green is now in season). This was followed by a charcuterie platter: juicy truffle salami, fragrant fennel salami, two kinds of prosciutto (smoked and traditional), mortadella. Next: steaming bowls of tortellini in brodo—sturdy broth and tender tortellini. Three cheeses (truffle, pecorino and gorgonzola—accompanied by artisan jams and honey) followed. Wines were Lambrusco and San Giovese. Coffee was the appropriate exclamation point.

Haven’t been in Italy for a few years so needed a refresher in how coffee should taste. Strolled to Zanarini, a posh bar in the histrionic center of Bologna. A macchiato for HG. A thunderbolt of taste in a tiny cup. Deep, rich black espresso topped with a froth of milk. Energized HG for a walk beneath medieval arcades containing the latest in chic Italian fashion.

Piazza Galvani

A wise observer of the Italian culinary scene said that Italians can be outrageous radicals in their political life and crazy innovators when it comes to fashion, furniture design and housewares. But, when they sit down at the table they want the kind of traditional, comforting food they associate with home and Mama. In that respect, Jewish-American HG is truly Italian.

Or is he? Seems that high end Italian restaurants would beg to differ and Frank Bruni, a food writer respected by HG, did a piece in last Sunday’s Times Travel Section about these new, frighteningly creative (and expensive) restaurants in Italy. One restaurant offers its patrons a surgical scalpel to open a little plastic ball containing a raw egg yolk and caviar. HG gathers that if the diner doesn’t have the hands of a surgeon the tasty, one swallow morsel will land on the diner’s lap (along with some blood, one presumes). Madness.

HG and BSK will be in Bologna in November. And what HG wants are those tasty and traditional treats: Bollito misto. Tortellini in brodo; culatello, mortadella and steaming bowls of tagliatelle with Bolognese ragu.

HG can hardly wait to pour some red wine and bask in the joy of Bologna’s trattorias and osterias.

The radical founder of Futurism, Marinetti eating pasta at Milan's Biffi restaurant, 1930.

If fate is kind to HG and BSK they will be in Bologna later in 2011 or in early 2012. Bologna is a delightful city, not much visited by Americans who stick to the Rome-Florence-Venice peregrination. They miss out on the best cuisine in Italy. Some may object to this statement since Bologna is an inland city and fish is not on many menus. However, for the truly robust eater (and one who is not too fearful of cholesterol) Bologna is a dream. Of course, the city has many others features besides food: Interesting museums, architecturally outstanding arcades, a noble square anchored by a cathedral and a soaring bell tower; one of the oldest and most revered universities in Europe and a moving memorial to the many who died fighting fascism. Splendid…

Okay, back to the food. HG has joyous memories of a dinner he had at the classic Ristorante Diana. The decor was classic — hand polished wood and glittering mirrors of 1920’s-30’s vintage. Courtly waiters. Traditional Bolognese dishes. HG’s meal started with tagliatelle with butter and the best parmesan. The waiter topped the dish with generous shavings of pungently fragrant white truffles. Then a large man wheeled over a silver cart, removed some lids and allowed HG to gaze upon the ultimate Bolito Misto, the classic Italian dish of boiled meats: Juicy beef; Cotechino (a fat sausage that had simmered at a low heat for four hours); Zampone, which is a pig’s trotter stuffed with sausage meat — a delicious, porky treat that has a delicate rim of fat which creates a velvety contrast with the rough hewn sausage. Tongue; a chicken thigh. HG had it all with very generous lashings of salsa verde and mostarda di frutta. The wine was Sangiovese. Dessert was a semifreddo, the Italian version of frozen custard. Unforgettable.