My week of deliciousness is drawing to a close. Last cappuccino. Last adorable micro packet of Nutella slipped into the purse from the breakfast bar. Last touches on the product development project that brought me here.
The last meal is critical. The restaurant has to be perfect. I have to have something I cannot find at home. Who knows when I will be back to this land of culinary delights? Good news. Apparently I have earned my stripes while I am here – as my host declares that tonight “We go to the BEST pizza place in Verona!” Apparently the owners of “the best pizza place in Verona” and “the second best pizza place in Verona” used to own one place together until one night a fight (literally a fist fight) broke out between the partners, and the kind people of Verona were the winners…as they now have two wonderful purveyors of pizza.
Pizzaria Leon D’Oro does not disappoint, in fact it is the best pizza of my life. Well, my life thus far…as I envision a trip to Naples in my future to really and truly investigate pizza.
We end the week as we began – feasting on lardo. On the menu there is a pizza with tomato sauce, gorgonzola and lardo, but I am steered clear of this – apparently lardo needs to be enjoyed with crust alone. I have learned my lessons this week, and I obey. This crust is crisp and chewy, thick and thin all at once. Divine. Rumour has it the dough is aged well over 72 hours before baking. There is a custom designed wood fired stone oven – that has a turn table of sorts, so the pizzas go whizzing around – like an old 45. We have another pizza – true Italian, with a scraping of sauce, oven roasted tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella. Perfetto.
Last tiramisu – only this one is made “a la minute”, which I have never seen or heard of before. Usually this classic is left to sit to allow the flavours to blend before serving. This one needs no sitting – why wait to eat something this good? It is rich yellow with eggs in the mascarpone cream, and is served in a bowl with a spoon. I resist picking up the bowl and licking it clean – but just barely.
Last gelato. I know. We already had dessert. But my host insisted. Did you want me to be rude? Tucked away in a residential neighbourhood, this tiny shop is run by brother and sister, carrying on a family tradition of making gelato one small batch at a time. I was told that they once won best gelato in Italy, only to have their reward stripped from them when the judgement was reconsidered and the gelato was deemed, in fact, too creamy. Too creamy? Those two words should never go side by side. I confess, I always order the same gelato flavours. I know I should be more adventurous. Chocolate and pistachio. The world over, chocolate and pistachio. And these two flavours my dear friends were certainly not “too creamy”, but instead the perfect ending to 8 delicious days. Ciao Italia!!
