P122@
Buon Giorno and Bon Jovi
Just got off the train from Bologna where things were beautiful and collegate. Its home to the oldest university in Europe maybe the world if you dont count the school of redundancy school up there in Lipshitz, Germany.
Bologna (pronounced Bol-on-eey) was as old school of a university town as it gets. Many tightly radiating streets that whose sidewalks are all covered by arching and vaulting porticos. There was a youthfull buzz there that reverberated loudly off the clay toned brick and stone walls of the place.
I ate some great food there and some not so great food. To begin, I had as my first meal a plate of torelloni alla bolongese. About as good as it gets in that department. Later that night I was at a gelato shop (dessert before dinner) that used all natural seasonal stuff in their ice cream where I got a recommendation for a spot for dinner. I should have listened to my bro Andy on where to eat that night but I was led astray and I wish I could do it over agian. I was introduced to the chef who was a man of genuine friendliness and hospitality, and he invited me back later that night for a tasting meal. When I had finished the lovely dinner of five courses, I just thought to myself that I was underwhealmed. A classic out-to-dinner pitfall where you can't see the merchandice before you sign for it. Anywho it reminded me of getting a meal in SoHo where you pay for the privelage of being seen in a flashy modern restaurant in the heart of coolsville. I kept thinking to myself that the ingredients were the best part of the whole thing, and I could have done just as well at the stove. To make up for gouging my wallet I had a plastic container or this fresh pasta called Strozzapretti (wring the neck of the priest in Italian seriously) and some pesto and parm. It was better than my dinner and cost me €3. I dont want to jab the chef too hard because he was so cool to me but I just wish I hadn't had to pay so much. It stung a bit.
One of the coolest things I've done in Italy so far though was visit the Ducati Motorcycle factory in Bologna. There was a city bus that ran out there that only cost a €1. The museum was amazing! They had every Ducati racing motorcycle ever made from 1941 to the present day Superbikes. The old models were georgeous Pee-wee Herman style bicycles with little motors mounted over the crank with hand painted racing numbers on the plates over the headlight. They were one of a kind and looked it as well. I was drooling all over the floor at these 20 odd bikes. I took pictures of all of them but they were lit by an illumiated runway on the floor so I hope I got mu exposures right! The modern super bikes were basically red, white, and green missiles with handlebars. 250hp monsters that hit over 275mph!!! The factory was just as cool because all the bikes are made by hand so they can only produce about 200 a day as oppposed to a Japaneese factory that hits the 1000 mark on a day. The factory was still and quiet on the Saturday I visited. Pneumatic tools of every kind were hanging from coiled air cords above the assembly lines that ran back into the darkened ends of the shop. The factory was clean, well lit from natural sky light, and smelled like new car, or new bike. THere was a soundproof dynamo chamber where each motorcycle is boldted down to a treadmill of rollers and wound up to its highest rpms to make sure everything is running perfectly. A new bike starts at something like €17,000. I bought a Ducati coffee cup and a few post cards with a classic graphic of a little white dog with his toungue out running next to a little shinny enginge. The text says " cucculo" which means puppy.
I'm in Naples at the moment which deserves its own essay so I'll retire for evening. I did have my first Neopolitan Pizza tonight though. Definitly better than the Olive Garden. They also have a classic pastry here called sfogliatella which is a piece of paper thin dough rolled into a short little cone and filled with the most delicious sweet ricotta and orange zest. It looks like a crispy golden clam shell. I'm going to stop right here as I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like Racheal Ray or, some other TV clown.
On a related thought. I can't explain how glad I am to have not heard a word about any American celebrity, TV show, or politician in the last few weeks. I haven't missed digesting that useless information for a minute. I hope I have the dicipline to tune out the shit end of the media when I get home. The fact that I can't understand Italian even helps shield me from this whole world of advertising which is also not lost on me.
later skaters
dave
Just got off the train from Bologna where things were beautiful and collegate. Its home to the oldest university in Europe maybe the world if you dont count the school of redundancy school up there in Lipshitz, Germany.
Bologna (pronounced Bol-on-eey) was as old school of a university town as it gets. Many tightly radiating streets that whose sidewalks are all covered by arching and vaulting porticos. There was a youthfull buzz there that reverberated loudly off the clay toned brick and stone walls of the place.
I ate some great food there and some not so great food. To begin, I had as my first meal a plate of torelloni alla bolongese. About as good as it gets in that department. Later that night I was at a gelato shop (dessert before dinner) that used all natural seasonal stuff in their ice cream where I got a recommendation for a spot for dinner. I should have listened to my bro Andy on where to eat that night but I was led astray and I wish I could do it over agian. I was introduced to the chef who was a man of genuine friendliness and hospitality, and he invited me back later that night for a tasting meal. When I had finished the lovely dinner of five courses, I just thought to myself that I was underwhealmed. A classic out-to-dinner pitfall where you can't see the merchandice before you sign for it. Anywho it reminded me of getting a meal in SoHo where you pay for the privelage of being seen in a flashy modern restaurant in the heart of coolsville. I kept thinking to myself that the ingredients were the best part of the whole thing, and I could have done just as well at the stove. To make up for gouging my wallet I had a plastic container or this fresh pasta called Strozzapretti (wring the neck of the priest in Italian seriously) and some pesto and parm. It was better than my dinner and cost me €3. I dont want to jab the chef too hard because he was so cool to me but I just wish I hadn't had to pay so much. It stung a bit.
One of the coolest things I've done in Italy so far though was visit the Ducati Motorcycle factory in Bologna. There was a city bus that ran out there that only cost a €1. The museum was amazing! They had every Ducati racing motorcycle ever made from 1941 to the present day Superbikes. The old models were georgeous Pee-wee Herman style bicycles with little motors mounted over the crank with hand painted racing numbers on the plates over the headlight. They were one of a kind and looked it as well. I was drooling all over the floor at these 20 odd bikes. I took pictures of all of them but they were lit by an illumiated runway on the floor so I hope I got mu exposures right! The modern super bikes were basically red, white, and green missiles with handlebars. 250hp monsters that hit over 275mph!!! The factory was just as cool because all the bikes are made by hand so they can only produce about 200 a day as oppposed to a Japaneese factory that hits the 1000 mark on a day. The factory was still and quiet on the Saturday I visited. Pneumatic tools of every kind were hanging from coiled air cords above the assembly lines that ran back into the darkened ends of the shop. The factory was clean, well lit from natural sky light, and smelled like new car, or new bike. THere was a soundproof dynamo chamber where each motorcycle is boldted down to a treadmill of rollers and wound up to its highest rpms to make sure everything is running perfectly. A new bike starts at something like €17,000. I bought a Ducati coffee cup and a few post cards with a classic graphic of a little white dog with his toungue out running next to a little shinny enginge. The text says " cucculo" which means puppy.
I'm in Naples at the moment which deserves its own essay so I'll retire for evening. I did have my first Neopolitan Pizza tonight though. Definitly better than the Olive Garden. They also have a classic pastry here called sfogliatella which is a piece of paper thin dough rolled into a short little cone and filled with the most delicious sweet ricotta and orange zest. It looks like a crispy golden clam shell. I'm going to stop right here as I'm afraid I'm starting to sound like Racheal Ray or, some other TV clown.
On a related thought. I can't explain how glad I am to have not heard a word about any American celebrity, TV show, or politician in the last few weeks. I haven't missed digesting that useless information for a minute. I hope I have the dicipline to tune out the shit end of the media when I get home. The fact that I can't understand Italian even helps shield me from this whole world of advertising which is also not lost on me.
later skaters
dave
posted by Vitamin D at
1:19 AM
2 Comments:
hi davey! glad to hear that you are having such a good time! can't wait to see the photos! stay well and keep writing
By
Unknown, at 10:45 AM
word, i walked by cesare (that's the spot you ate at, right?) dozens of times and never ate there. there are several places like that in bologna, all flash and no dash. anyway, hope you enjoyed the general vibe of bologna, one of the coolest i have yet to encounter. keep on keeping it real.
By
acatalano, at 10:17 PM
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