Bologna: 6 Nov 2015

Wes and Marlow
6 November 2015
Bologna

We are at the start of a wonderful meal!

The Drogheria was probably once a pharmacy, hence the name. Now, a ristorante, it sprawls through what were once corridors and pharmacy prep rooms. Mostly tables for two set in former hallways. The wall shelves, formerly for merchandise, now are filled with books within reach of our table. Mostly they are in Italian. Art books: Immagini e Documenti Matera by Matio Cresci. Quattro Passi per Bologna by Giampiero Montanari. In English, an announcement for an upcoming lecture on March 14, 2000 by Harold Bloom on The Importance of Being Misunderstood: an Homage to Oscar Wilde. And Vincenzo Agnoletti's Manuale del Cuoco e del Pasticciere. Before our food arrives we will be intellectually satisfied.

A small unordered appetizer has come and gone. A small ball of luxurious mozzarella. A dollop of lovely red tomato cream. And a miniature lasagna. Petite and perfect layers.

A small pour of wine appears in our glasses. A welcome aperitivo from the host.

Earlier tonight, we began at Zanarini for what is called, the aperitivo. From about six until eight in the evening, with your cocktail, comes a variety of small appetizers. Because it is my birthday we went to a very, very nice place. Once there, we vowed to go there more often. About our cocktails at Zanarini, the barman is reknowned. He has nightly specials. Also you can give him a few ideas and he will create an original. I said: dark rum. He went at it with serious intent. A little of this. A shake of that. A drop and a drip. In my creation were pineapple, lemon, agave and really I do not know what else, but it was an elegant and finely wrought cocktail. Wes had a Manhattan which also was satisfying. We stood at the bar. Patrons came and went. As did a white golden retriever puppy and a King Charles spaniel. Both sniffed and pranced like the puppies they are. Occasionally they yipped when stepped on by a less than graceful patron. The barman brought eidbles to us. First, a bowl of green olives. Then a plate of puff pastry with toppings. Two tiny bowls of miniature fresh tuna cubes with two tiny forks. A plate of four beautiful creations that were a sprig of this atop a dollop of that on a sliver of a whatever. And there was a glass of crudite with carrot, celery and cucumber. The patrons around us were an assortment of high and low but all within the high class. Some absolutely elegant with poise and charm school carriage. Others a bit overdone. After my cocktail, I continued with a rose spumante. It is a birthday, mine, and effervescence is appropriate.

Meanwhile, back at Drogheria, our primi has arrived. It is, let me describe it, more than a ravioli. It is a sack. A pouch. Large enough to fill with two tablespoons of filling. The pasta is house made. That is simply the way it is done here. The filling is squaquerone, a local cheese. It must be fresh. Has to be. It is slightly liquid and mild in flavor. Somewhat like the milky inside of a burrata cheese. Our pouches were filled with it. (Pronounced: squawk-where-oh-nay.) The pouches are topped with steamed zucchini flowers. Very beautiful. The steaming allows the green and orange colors to remain intact and to become more intense. Often the zucchini flower is stuffed or it is fried. Steaming it, to me, in this instance is superior.



And now for the main attraction. Tranches of milk fed veal (arrosto di vitello) topped with an ultra delicious rose colored sauce consisting of a puree of light color vegetables and probably a large spoon of butter. Beside the meat are gorgeously roasted potatoes and a small heap of green vegetables. I think they are thinly sliced fennel and spinach. Or it is spinach and hard stems with a splash of Pernod.

On the other plate is a slab of beef, one and a half inches thick and extremely rare. Perfect. It is in a pool of sauce made from balsamic vinegar.



Two small frosted glasses of marsala wine have arrived. (I enjoy that they bring unannounced pleasures.)

And now, desserts are on the way. Mascarpone with persimmon and shavings of chocolate. Tarta di mela (apple tart).

An amusing aside. A woman just entered the restaurant with a long haired dachshund on a leash. It explains why there are no "doggy bags" here. The dog comes with you. Also there seem to be three dog varieties here: beagles, golden retrievers and dachshunds.



We have now had first bites of dessert. My apple tart is excellent. Wes's mascarpone with persimmon is beyond description delicious. It is a dinner plate filled with a pool of mascarpone thinned with cream and a tiny bit of sugar. In the center is a small pool of pureed persimmon looking like Monet's impression of a sunset. Coarse dark chocolate is shaved over the whole thing. It is overwhelmingly good.

An absolutely excellent dinner. An absolutely excellent evening. Happy birthday to me.

Marlow and Wes
6 November 2015
Bologna