Tag: Osteria

March 6, 2026

Venice revisited: shopping, lunch and two dinners

That’s not two dinners on one night. Obviously.

Our partner in crime on this trip was Alison, chef of her own restaurant in Norfolk for many years.

It was her first time in Italy and, as a fellow food obsessive, I was excited to show her the markets. Her husband declined to join us, knowing that food would be the dominant subject of conversation.

He was right. Here we are, photographing Puntarelle (it’s a chicory, dressed with anchovies and garlic and…. alright, we’ll stop now).

We went to Rialto and discussed the price of fish.

We decided against the Goby,

but it was worth it for people watching,

Then lunch at Bancogiro, site of the world’s first public merchant bank. Their terrace overlooks the Grand Canal, a few steps from Rialto Bridge.

There’s a menu, but it’s better to go into the bar and choose your cicheti from the glass cabinet, order a glass of wine, (or it’s always Spritz o’clock) and they’ll bring it all to your table.

Dinner at Osteria alle Testiere, where ‘it’s always SHOWTIME!’

Alle Testiere is an absolute legend. It’s one of those restaurants where the guests are eager to impress their hosts.

It’s essential to make your reservation well ahead. We like to book for the second service, and we’re usually the last to leave.

It’s tiny, founded 33 years ago by Luca di Vita and Bruno Gavagnin, who were formerly head waiter and chef respectively at Corte Sconta, renowned for its seafood.

It’s a long menu. Fish is the point here, they’re closed on Sunday and Monday, because the Rialto market isn’t open.

Luca took our order:

‘Three turbot? I hope we have enough’.

After dinner, Ali engaged Luca in conversation.

‘Bruno goes to Rialto every day, he’s like a child in a sweet shop, he wants to buy everything’.

Ali confided that in her restaurant she listed three choices for each course on her menu.

‘That’s my dream’ said Luca, ‘and the same for the wine list – just three that will go with anything you order’.

With that in mind, we ordered three desserts: pannacotta, zabaglione and a glorious dark chocolate mousse, swimming in a lagoon of Amaro.

Alle Testiere is open for lunch, and two sittings in the evening (book it as soon as you’ve booked your flight).

Trattoria del Local

Ali flew home the next day, and we decided to try the recent offshoot of Ristorante Local, which opened ten years ago and now has a Michelin star.

The young owners, Benedetta and Luca Fullin, were looking for somewhere nearby to store wine for Local, but when the opportunity came up to buy the premises from Olive Nera, the restaurant next door, they couldn’t resist…..

It’s pretty inside and, like Testiere, it’s small.

The wine list offers wines by the 125cl glass or 250cl carafe; the full list is available by scanning a code to your phone (a skill beyond my pay grade).

We had a vermouth, ‘classic from Turin’, and a glass of sparkling Franciacorta as aperitifs, then shared a carafe of ‘Giulietta’, a Garganega/Traminer blend; golden nectar, redolent of greengage, melon and honey.

Starters were a delicate snapper mousse, and an exemplary vitello tonnato.

Mains were lagoon fish with a rich stew of tomato, onion and capers.

I asked for a glass of light red wine, and was recommended a Carmenere by Inama, a favourite producer of fine Soave.

We shared a selection of hard cheeses, then a ‘Bonet’, a dark chocolate crème caramel. I couldn’t resist the waitress’s recommendation of a 10 year old dry Marsala; ‘With the Bonet it’s the end of the world’.

To finish, I was intrigued by Grappa di Tabacco.

Benedetta suggested a smell, ‘for you to understand’, and offered me a sniff of the cork and the open bottle.

Reader, I inhaled it, and accepted a glass. It was the colour of polished brass, quite fiery and the taste had something in common with a smoky Islay whisky.

It may have been my imagination, but it reminded me of the mild hallucinogenic effect of your first cigarette.

Benedetta smiled; ‘as an ex-smoker I don’t want to like it. But I do’.

Opened early in 2025, it’s still being checked out by locals, a lot of whom were clearly in the restaurant business. I think we were probably the only non-Italians there.

As we left, the chef was enjoying a fag break (the real thing) with his mates.

Full disclosure:

We spent more on dinner for two here than we had for three the night before at Testiere, but we did drink very well.

We were over excited, and turned right out of the restaurant – we should have gone left.

It’s easy to take a wrong turn in Venice.

http://www.osterialletestiere.it/

Starters & pasta 26 – 28 euros. Mains 32 euros. Desserts 12 euros. Extensive wine list from 24 euros a bottle.

http://www.trattoriadellocal.com/

Starters & pasta 16 – 25 euros. Mains 24 – 28 euros. Wine from 27 euros a bottle. Grappa di Tabacco – did I really?

January 13, 2026

Amaro. For the avoidance of doubt.

‘It’s bitter, no?

This is the true Amaro’, explained Luca di Vita, the charming maitre d’ of Osteria alle Testiere in Venice.
It’s one of my favourite restaurants.

Amaro in Italian means bitter. It’s also a drink. Most of the commercial brands are a bit too sweet, and Luca has created his own ‘Nostrano’, (Ours).

It’s a drink to savour after a meal, a bit like port, but yes, bitter…..
It’s brownish red in colour, with a hint of green.

There’s sweetness, yes, but with the bitterness of rhubarb, artichoke (try Cynar, if you’re feeling adventurous) and who knows what other alchemy.

It’s stimulating, a punctuation that marks the end of a meal, and it supposedly helps the digestion.

Bitter flavours are prized by Italians in ways that we Brits might find challenging: radicchio, rocket, Campari, and the complexities of aged balsamic vinegar or Gorgonzola Piccante.

I dare you.

December 21, 2025

A postcard from Turin

History is close to the surface

The emblem of Torino is a little bull. I happened upon this one, looking down at me from the wall of a house.

Turin was founded by the ancient Romans; Porta Palatina is a fragment of their city wall.

We stayed on Via Garibaldi, a pedestrianised shopping street in the Centro Storico.

Exploring on the first day, I could hear a drumbeat in the distance. As the drums came closer, fifers started to play ‘The British Grenadiers’, a bizarre choice of tune in this Italian city.

The banner commemorates local hero Pietro Micca, who sacrificed his life in 1706, defending his city against the French.

City of culture

Since the Winter Olympics of 2006, and with the declining importance of industry, Turin has sought to attract tourism. There are free walking tours available from Via Garibaldi, and you’ll happen upon small scale but interesting exhibitions, such as Gli Italiani at the Palazzo Falletti in Barolo, just off Via Garibaldi.

‘The Italians’ was a project undertaken in the sixties by French photographer Bruno Barbey, documenting the lives of ordinary Italians in a country still emerging from the aftermath of the Second World War.

Palermo 1963

Venezia 1962

There are grand museums and galleries too; Turin is home to a collection of Egyptian antiquities second only to the museum in Cairo, and an extraordinary museum of Italian cinema.

Where we ate, what we drank

The restaurants we went to were inexpensive and not touristy. Wines start at around 20 euros a bottle, and are often available in carafe.

La Taverna dei Mercanti

A cosy place with a menu largely based around thinly sliced veal and beef: carpaccio, brasato, tonnato.

If that weren’t confusing enough, I ordered a grappa. Good job I didn’t ask for a large one….

An elegant pour

Tre Galli (three cockerels, not to be confused with its nearby sister restaurant ‘Tre Galline’, three chickens) is a bit of a hipster place near Porta Palazzo market. The highlight for me was this dish of pasta with beans, chestnuts, pumpkin, gorgonzola and a wine reduction; like a big warm hug on a chilly November evening. We followed with a Zabaglione per condividere (a handy phrase, meaning ‘to share’).

Pasta Garfagnano

Pino & Pino was recommended by Giuditta, the owner of our apartment, as somewhere she eats regularly.

(She also has accommodation for skiing and sent me loads of photos, please DM me if you’re interested, and I’ll put you in touch).

We started with a foaming carafe of Frizzante, then demolished a bottle of red Dolcetto.

It was Carciofi (artichoke) season, and there were three specials on the blackboard. We had these ‘fritti’ and a salad of thinly sliced raw artichokes with lemon juice and shaved parmesan.

Anyone for tennis?

I can recommend Turin as a destination for a city break, there’s plenty to see (and eat!).

The ATP tournament is back in 2026, and we’re tempted to go for a return match….

December 3, 2025

Turin: in Search of Stanley Tucci

My travelling companions were going to Turin for the ATP year-end tennis tournament.

I was there for the food. My last visit was in 2015, and I had some unfinished business.

Hollywood star Stanley Tucci, ‘Italian on both sides’, was a source of research in the Piedmont episode of his TV series ‘Searching for Italy’, available on Amazon Prime.

First stop, coffee

We followed in his footsteps for coffee at Al Bicerin, an institution on Piazza della Consolata since 1763. They run a queuing system, and once you sit down there’s a short wait while your drinks are made, and the complimentary biscotti are plated.

Al Bicerin

Pronounced Beech-erin, the eponymous drink consists of layers of espresso and dark hot chocolate, sipped through cold cream, a perfect start on a chilly morning. ‘We suggest not to stir it’.

So far, so good. Where to for lunch, Stanley?

Piola da Celso, an unassuming place on a quiet residential backstreet. Piola translates roughly as a tavern serving home cooked food.

Chef Elisabetta prepares everything herself each day, and Stanley was assured she makes the best Bagna Caôda in town. Traditionally eaten during the grape harvest and pressing, it’s a warm dipping sauce of garlic and anchovies, served with vegetables.

‘It has incredible flavour, and will give you incredible breath – the garlic kills everyone in front of you’.

I had to try it.

I walked there to work up an appetite, which was just as well. I was shown to a table next to a group of five men of a certain age, who were already deeply engrossed in pasta, tripe, roast rabbit, and carafes of red wine.

Elisabetta’s son Carlo was called over to speak to me in English. I did my best, and he quickly reassured me ‘your Italian is perfect’. (He’s as charming as he appeared to be on TV).

‘My name is Carlo, like your king’.

He recommended the mixed antipasto to start, with the last portion of Bagna Caôda.

I ordered un quartino dell’ Arneis, a 25cl carafe of the local white wine.

Bagna Cauda

The antipasto was a lesson in Piemontese dialect: vitel tonné, salame cotto, insalata russa, tomino with two sauces*.

*sliced veal with tuna & caper mayonnaise, baked salami, Russian salad, and tangy, creamy cheeses with red & green sauces – all specialities of the region; the salame you will only find there.

Tomino cheeses

Elisabetta came over, unbidden, to give me a taste of a mysterious green purée; I asked what it was, and she showed me a raw floret: ‘e broccolo, con un po di patate’…..

I ordered the agnolotti con salsa arrosto, ‘then you can decide what to do….’

An enormous pan of pasta arrived, dressed with parmesan and the rich juices of roast meat. ‘It’s ravioli, but here in Piemonte we call it agnolotti’.

I reluctantly declined the offers of meat and dessert, and opted for an espresso. Lunch was 28 euros.

Carlo asked my name, took an interest in where I was from, what was my work, and offered to call me a taxi.

Two days later I returned, this time with reinforcements.

I had phoned ahead, and Elisabetta recognised me, greeting me with a little curtsey.

Two of us shared the antipasti, then Tajarin, similar to spaghetti but fresh pasta, with tomato, followed by a slice of Bonet, a dense dark chocolate mousse with crumbled amaretti and mandarin jam.

Bonet with Amaro

Carlo recommended a glass of Amaro San Carlo (‘like me’) as a digestif, a bittersweet drink with flavours of alpine herbs.

Lunch for two came to £47.

He recommended booking for dinner a week in advance. There’s no website, just a Facebook page, so phone and practise your Italian; ask for Carlo, or ask your hotel to call.

Back at home, I watched ‘Searching for Italy’ again.

With the help of subtitles, it was Elisabetta who stole the show:

‘This will be the best Bagna Caôda you will have in your life.

It will resurrect a dead person’.

April 11, 2021

I had my say in The Sunday Telegraph

The Telegraph was my parents’ paper of choice, and my sister still subscribes.

She tipped me off about the weekly writing competition ‘Your say’ in the travel pages on Sunday.

This week the brief was to describe a favourite sweet treat discovered on your travels, in no more than 150 words.

My entry was printed in a very slightly edited form. Here it is in full:

A favourite ‘sweet treat’ from my travels

Frìtole in Venetian dialect (frittelle in Italian) are traditionally devoured only during the Venice Carnival, a celebration of gluttony and excess which ends on Shrove Tuesday, before the austere days of Lent begin.

Days are often foggy and cold, and revellers seek out fried treats in the misshapen form of frìtole, found in pastry shops and cafés throughout the city.

They’re knobbly little doughnuts, studded with candied citrus peel, pinenuts, and raisins (which, if you’re lucky, will have been soused in grappa) then fried and dusted with sugar.

Carnevale is not only for tourists; on one night of our stay we managed to get seated in a crowded dining room of a busy Osteria. At the neighbouring table there was a party who were clearly Venetians, finishing a tray of warm frìtole: a Renaissance prince, a nineteenth century admiral, and a Mikado who started singing arias in Italian….

The Sunday Telegraph, 11 April 2021

March 24, 2021

Red Gingham Tablecloths

Red gingham is a bit of a cliché, the ubiquitous table covering of an unpretentious traditional bistro in provincial France. Or so I thought.

In 2013 I came across Ristorante Tromlin in the hills overlooking the Italian city of Turin.

Torino was the capital of the Kingdom of Savoy, which also ruled Nizza, now better known as the French city of Nice.

I developed a theory that perhaps the red-and-white check entered French culture through this historical back door.

Ristorante Tromlin

The bistros of Paris were opened by people from the countryside who migrated to the city, and classic dishes from the French regions, notably Beaujolais, Alsace, and (not forgetting) Savoie became staples.

One of my favourites is La Fontaine de Mars, where the menu is firmly rooted in the French Southwest. Jambon de Bayonne is freshly cut on the red enamel slicer that gleams at you as you’re shown to your table, to nibble as you decide whether to choose cassoulet or confit de canard.

La Fontaine de Mars

Last time we were there we startled our waiter by asking if we could have a green salad with the cheese course.

‘Une salade avec du fromage? Vraiement?(shrugs)

Vive la difference!’

(The tablecloths are red and white gingham in my memory, but when I found this photo I realised they are actually pink. Perhaps the effect of a glass too many of their finest Cahors).

Then there’s Polidor, the restaurant that time forgot. The blackboard proclaims that ‘we haven’t accepted cheques since 1873’.

Woody Allen chose it as a location for ‘Midnight in Paris’, when the lead character accepts a lift by a stranger’s car which transports him back to the literary heyday of the 1920’s, where he encounters F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway in the restaurant.

‘We haven’t accepted cheques since 1873’

I remembered a visit to Mamma Mia, an Italian restaurant in Dublin.

No mistake this time, the tablecloths are proudly chequered.

Mamma Mia

Maybe there’s something in my theory after all.

Savoie to Paris, by way of Dublin?

I look forward to resuming the necessary research.

January 16, 2020

2019 – the Food Stuff

There’s a weekend to be planned here – nothing that couldn’t be achieved with the services of a private jet, and perhaps a bit of time travel.

You could have breakfast in Paris, take a coffee in Stockholm, then lunch on Torcello, or Borough Market in London if you prefer.

Dinner? Back to Paris, on to Amsterdam? Or (my choice) Stockholm again for a magnificent steak.

I’ll let you take in an hour’s TV to recover, then if you still have the stamina, we’ll head over to Venice for a nightcap.

Best Breakfast of 2019?

It has to be The French Bastards, for ‘A croissant worth crossing Paris for’

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Kj

Best croissant in Paris?

Mid morning coffee

A seriously good cup of coffee is one of life’s great pleasures for me, and they don’t get much better than at Robert’s Coffee, in the Saluhall market, Stockholm.

The cinnamon buns are a bonus. (They take cards only, not cash, so you won’t even have to bother buying kronor).

Fika at Robert’s Coffee, Stockholm

What have the Swedes ever done for us?

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Cv

Lunch in the Lagoon….

Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo on the island of Torcello; all the better for being unexpected.

Torcello is about an hour from Venice; you can reach it on a scheduled service, changing at Burano, using your vaporetto pass.

Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo, Torcello

The ancient basilica on Torcello predates the city of Venice. To reach it from the quay, you walk along the side of a canal. The most famous restaurant on the island is the Locanda Cipriani nearby, but you pass three others on the way.

We weren’t looking for a grand lunch, but something to fortify us for the basilica.

The first place looked fun, but was packed with families queuing for pizza.

The second was a fairly standard Trattoria. We walked on.

The third had a big dining room with a covered terrace at the back, opening onto a garden. The menu looked as if we could find something suitable, so we went in and were greeted with smiles and shown to a table.

It was a good decision, even the bread basket was exceptional. We had a pretty antipasto of colourful steamed vegetables, all tasting intensely of themselves, served warm to bring out the fruitiness of the olive oil dressing.

Then black squid ink pasta, with crab, samphire and rosemary; orecchiette with turbot and cherry tomatoes.

We drank Arneis, a white from Piemonte.

After lunch we wandered round the garden and may have dropped off on a bench in the pergola. Just for a moment….

Osteria al Ponte del Diavolo is open for lunch Tuesday to Sunday, and dinner on Friday and Saturday.

Contatti

….and at Borough Market

Closer to home but equally unexpected was discovering the new Brindisa Kitchen at Borough Market. It’s inspired by the bars in Spanish markets.

I saw it had opened the day before I’d arranged to meet a friend for a day of shopping and sustenance (Instagram has its uses).

A perfect scallop

A glass of Manzanilla with a single perfect scallop.

Hake & mussels.

I love watching chefs happy in their work, interacting with their customers, and the bar staff were charming.

The head chef, Brindisa Kitchen

Hake & mussels

https://boroughmarket.org.uk/traders/brindisa-kitchen

Dinner?

Honourable mention for the Sweetbreads at Frenchie’s Wine Bar, Paris.

So good, I ate them twice.

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Kh

‘Everything, I want to eat everything’

Caffé Toscanini in Amsterdam for the whole experience of food and hospitality; a perfect aperitif followed by an accomplished Italian meal, delivered with good humour and expertise.

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Kh

The bar at Caffe Toscanini, Amserdam

The prize goes to A.G. for the best steak of 2019. I’ll be lucky to find one as good in 2020.

Most of the tables were occupied by groups of men sharing massive steaks.

There were also a few couples on date nights, sharing massive steaks.

‘Vegetarians, look away now’.

https://wp.me/p7AW4i-Oh

A.G. – ‘vegetarians, look away now’

TV Show: Remarkable places to eat, Episode 1, in which chef Angela Hartnett takes Maitre d’ Fred Siriex to her favourites in Venice.

It’s a full hour of television, so they have time to show you the dedication and hard work that goes into delivering the best ingredients and food experiences in the city. These are not cynical tourist traps. Nothing is done without effort: wading chest deep in the lagoon to harvest seafood; delivering vegetables by boat and trolley to Bruno Gavagnin, the quietly spoken but demanding chef at Alle Testiere; walking half a kilometre over bridges carrying boxes of perfect patisserie to Caffe Florian, from their production kitchen to Piazza San Marco – several times throughout the day.

At the time of writing it’s not available on BBC iPlayer, but it’s sure to turn up on your TV sooner or later.

Here are the fishermen:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0006vw3

Here’s a clip:

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p07g3dkl

FANCY A NIGHTCAP?

Let’s head back to Venice, for a glass of wine at Vino Vero.

You’ll find it here, on my page ‘And to drink?’

https://wp.me/P7AW4i-aV

November 18, 2019

A last lunch before the deluge

Acqua Alta comes as no surprise to Venetians in November, it’s an annual phenomenon; an irritation, an inconvenience to be dealt with stoically by the residents and businesses of the city.

This year, as we now know, it was a disaster on a scale unprecedented since 1966. Many restaurants and shops were forced to close by the flood on the night of November 12th. The water subsided, only to be followed by a second high tide a couple of days later, then a torrential downpour.

As I write this on 17th November, BBC Radio News is reporting a third flood.

Osteria Bancogiro

One of the restaurants affected by Acqua Granda is Osteria Bancogiro, on the fringe of Rialto market, within sight of the bridge and the Grand Canal.

Just over a month ago I was in Venice. We usually visit Bancogiro to sit at the bar with a selection of their chicheti, but on a warm and sunny day in October it seemed a good idea to have lunch at a table outside.

Bancogiro from the terrace

Instead of choosing from the display of snacks in the counter, we were presented with a printed menu. In a moment of innocence I ordered the Antipasto Misto di Pesce, expecting the typical Venetian restaurant plate of baccala (salt cod), prawns, cannochie shrimp, cuttlefish roe etc.

What arrived was an antipasto with a Bancogiro twist – a tasting tour on a plate, helpfully guided by our waiter:

‘From the bottom right, anticlockwise’

Prawns in tomato sauce on cream cheese. Octopus and aubergine on polenta, drenched with olive oil. Baccala mantecato on warm black polenta. A generous pile of smoked tuna, infused with orange zest. Sweet pepper stuffed with soft cheese. Sarde in Saor.

Antipasto misto di pesce

Lunch was accompanied by an equally varied soundscape: the sounds of the engines of traffic from the canal, the hammering of builders restoring the roof of a palazzo on the far side, and the cries of seagulls scavenging debris from the fish market.

There was a moment of serious balcony envy, as we looked up and realised there was someone else enjoying lunch, followed by a spot of sun worship.

Balcony envy

As we enjoyed a coffee, someone at a neighbouring table was already contemplating

‘Spritz o’clock’

Spritz o’clock

Bancogiro closed the day after Acqua Alta; they were defiantly open again a day later.

In the following days, there have been many images in news and social media as the unsung heroes of Acqua Alta have quietly got on with the business of pumping, mopping and cleaning up after the waters subsided, and in some cases opening for business even if they have been up to their knees, or higher, in water.

As a small tribute to these heroes, here are some of their Instagram tags, where you will find images of citizens of all ages, doggedly trying to restore normality to their homes, churches and businesses:

On Instagram, you’ll find the team outside osteriabancogiro up to their knees but grinning, sharing ‘that glass of wine, that slice of fennel salame, a hug between friends who share a difficult moment’

cantinaschiavi is more succinct: ‘Honestly, it’s just a ****ing disaster’ – their shop floor underwater; a collapsed stack of sodden cases of wine.

But at venissa_tenuta on the island of Burano, a waiter is standing ready to greet you on the restaurant terrace with a bottle of Prosecco. He’s smiling.

The green floodwater nearly covers his waders, and the caption reads ‘Still positive’

On the morning of November 18th, the waters appear to have subsided….

HOW TO HELP VENICE AND THE VENETIANS AFTER THE ACQUA ALTA

Here’s a link to some sound advice from The Venice Insider:

https://www.theveniceinsider.com/how-to-help-venice-venetians-acqua-alta/

October 22, 2019

Dalla Marisa, by way of Buckingham Palace

Her Majesty the Queen owns the largest collection in the world of paintings by Canaletto. This was celebrated in November 2018 by an exhibition at The Queen’s Gallery, Buckingham Palace: Canaletto and the Art of Venice.

One of the events organised at the gallery was a conversation on Venice with art historian Andrew Graham Dixon and restaurateur Russell Norman.

When asked in the Q & A which painting in the room they would like to take home, Russell immediately laid his claim for a large canvas depicting the basilica of Santa Maria della Salute.

Andrew confessed that Canaletto, although a fine painter, was not his favourite. If he were to be transported back to the 18th century to meet him, his first question would probably be ‘what can you tell me about Caravaggio?’

Another questioner asked what the pair thought of the food scene in Venice today.

Andrew agreed with Russell that if you see a restaurant with linen tablecloths, each place set with two knives, two forks and two glasses….

‘Don’t go there’

Instead, Russell Norman made reference to Dalla Marisa, a Venetian institution. He recently described it as

“The cacophonous canteen that is Dalla Marisa.

32 seated inside and close to 60 outside (no women inside at all). Everything cooked by a kitchen brigade of two, who both look like they’re in their 70’s. One washer-upper and two waiters. Three choices of pasta & 3 choices of meat course (it’s famous for its carne, being situated next to the old abbatoir) There are international art dealers side-by-side with paint-splattered labourers, gondoliere, politicians and a few cops”.

Outdoor tables at Dalla Marisa on the Cannaregio Canal

It seemed churlish not to follow his advice

I had read that there’s a fixed price of €35 for three courses including wine. It was to be lunch before an evening flight, so we decided to go for it. While they take bookings, it was Monday and the weather was good, so we took the risk and turned up to take our chances. Arriving at 1pm it was busy, so we loitered optimistically by the door, and a table outside soon became available.

Inside it’s a busy dining room. At the back you can catch a glimpse of the chef in her domain, an elderly lady in a white jacket and equally elderly slippers. She emerged to talk to a table of eight regulars (with a woman in charge) about their order.

There’s no printed menu, but a blackboard at the entrance indicated a more attemptable lunch for €17.

The lunch menu, Dalla Marisa

We opted to order in Italian. Three choices of pasta were offered by the waitress, ‘today we have tomato, ragú, or (something or other) with Bresaola’.

We both chose the Ragú, and I asked for 1/4 Vino bianco, a 250cl carafe of white wine.

The pasta arrived quite quickly, but the wine needed a reminder.

Half a litre came; it would have been rude to complain

it was was slightly frizzante, with a good head of froth.

The froth subsiding rapidly on vino frizzante

The pasta were conchiglie, little shells that were the vehicle for the mildly seasoned, oily sauce.

Perfetto.

Pasta al Ragu

Next up, per secondo: “stew”, pork chop, steak, chicken cutlet, pork with wine.

The stew looked great on neighbouring tables, chunks of meat in a rich sauce, and the chicken was simple and good, hot from the grill.

Pollo grigliato

Contorni (vegetables on the side), a choice of chicory or peppers. The chicory was silky and savoury, the colour of the Cannaregio Canal.

Cicoria

We finished with two perfect espressi.

Towards the end of lunch, a grizzled ruffian shuffled out of the restaurant. I surmised he might be Marisa’s husband; bearded, with long hair, a crucifix earring and flip flops.

He picked up some leftover bread from a table, and threw it disconsolately into the canal for the gathering crowd of pigeons and gannets. He spent the next half hour or so ineffectually flapping his arms, trying to shoo them away when they inevitably came back for more.

A flapping contest

Russell Norman again:

‘The portions are huge and the wine on other tables seems to be bottomless (are these people going back to work?!) There is nowhere else quite like it in Venice or, indeed, beyond. I’ve heard that it, like so many Venetian institutions, is changing hands soon. I hope its philosophy and legacy remain…’

I like the Cannaregio Canal. The Guglie Vaporetto stop is on the Allilaguna route to the airport, and a few tourists stray from the Strada Nuova, but it feels like a working thoroughfare. There are no gondolas, there’s a small fish market by the canal, and a Jewish café is a clue to its proximity to the Venetian Ghetto (the first in the world).

Vaporetto on the Cannaregio Canal

Like Dalla Marisa, there’s something uncompromising about it. It’s a reminder of how Venice used to be.

Dalla Marisa

Da’a Marisa, Calle de la Canne, 652/B Cannaregio.

(near the Tre Archi bridge, Fondamenta San Giobbe)

https://www.fodors.com/world/europe/italy/venice/restaurants/reviews/da-marisa-477217

October 18, 2019

A postcard from Santa Croce

Santa Croce is one of the sestiere of Venice, between Rialto and the railway station.

Arriving in Campo San Giacomo dell’ Orio in the early evening, you’ll encounter a microcosm of Venetian life. A few tourists pass through, but really it’s an urban village.

At its centre is the eponymous church. When the junior school is out, you’ll see boisterous children doing circuits of the little cluster of trees, on scooters, bikes and skates.

The race track, early evening

There’s a game of football being played, with the walls of the church and the Co-op supermarket acting as goals – when I was there it became clear that the boys were playing the girls, and the girls were winning….

There are three restaurants in the square, but my favourite haunt is Al Prosecco, a husband and wife operation, where they serve cicheti, and platters of cheese, salumi and smoked fish; perfect for a light lunch or an early evening aperitivo.