I ordered… something… as the appetizer at the restaurant tonight. I’m pretty sure I didn’t expect this tentacle plate to appear, though. Did I order it? Was the waiter just having fun?
Anyway, what it is? It kinda looks like octopus, but not quite. The tentacles don’t quite look octopussey enough. And the texture wasn’t squid-ish. At first I thought it was mozarella. Then I thought chicken. Then I thought… I don’t know. Anemone?
It was delicious, though. But mysterious. Does anybody know what the tentacle platter might have been?
|Take your backpacks off!
There’s a pizzeria just down the street here that almost always has a long queue outside. Pizzeria da Baffetto. Naturally, if there’s a long line, I want to be there, too. Or perhaps not. But I was thinking that that might be the reason that all these people were standing out in these rather cold Rome February evenings when there are oodles of perfectly fine pizza to be had virtually everywhere.
The self-perpetuating queue model.
Anyway, I Googled the place, and it’s apparently “the most reviewed restaurant in Italy”, according to my guide book. It didn’t mention what the reviews actually say.
be prepared to very rude staff. It’s not about the typical roman style that makes many places so unusually attractive. No, they are just rude in a way that makes going there an annoying, embarassing experience.
So it’s not the typical Roman style of rudeness we all love (but I haven’t actually noticed), but a special form of unattractive rudeness.
The unique “no backpacks” sign shown in the picture above is apparently no joke, either:
Those with backpacks had them ripped off their backs
I think that’s an eminently sensible policy. You shouldn’t wear backpacks indoors. Or outdoors.
The American reviews are often unintentionally hilarious:
I’m from brooklyn so i didn’t have high expectations to begin with but this did not live up to the hype at all! the pizza! the pizza is very thin and the sauce does not compensate
I’m guessing this Brooklynite may also have been dismayed that he was expected to eat the pizza with a knife and fork. It’s provincialism at its most amusing.
I still haven’t dared visit the place, though. Too much drama.