​Spaghetti and meatballs are an American creation, the combination of meatballs from the traditional Italian protein-based second course and the pasta from the first course to meet the demands of the much faster-paced American lifestyle.  Though it might be scoffed at Italian food traditionalists – and pretty much every Italian – it remains a staple on America tables and Italian-themed menus in this country for a reason.  It can be delicious if its three significant components are done well; high quality meatballs can make a huge difference in the overall enjoyment of the deceptively simple dish.
 
In Italy, spaghetti and meatballs can be found, but only at restaurants that might find a number of tourists.  There are at a few tourists in Venice during the warmer months, I did notice.  I was in Venice last month, and during a ramble around many of its famous landmarks, we stumbled upon Osteria al Diavolo e L'Acquasanta in Venice not far from the Rialto Bridge.  It turned out to be serendipitous stop.  We each enjoyed our lunchtimes choices, and the Sauvignon from the Collio more than aptly complemented our seafood items and provided some very refreshing and numbing liquid enjoyment on a warm afternoon.  My young nephew, who for a couple of weeks in Italy, ordered spaghetti al pomodoro (spaghetti in a tomato sauce), fried calamari, or spaghetti and meatballs for nearly every meal if pizza wasn’t served.  Osteria al Diavolo e ‘Acaquasanta had spaghetti and meatballs, and so did he.  (OK, it turned out to actually be linguine and meatballs, but not no matter).
 
He loved it.  I got a taste or two of the meatballs and those were terrific.  Soft and delicious, its mild, slightly meaty flavor went very well with the tasty tomato-based acidity of the light and fresh-tasting sauce covering it and the pasta.  The meatballs were made with seemingly equal portions of ground pork, veal and beef.  I am pretty sure that is what I got from the waiter; thankfully his English was far better than my Italian.  These were the type of tender, very savory meatballs I wish I could make at home on a regular basis and some of the very best meatballs that I have had in a while.  These were much better than one might expect from a restaurant where only not-so-demanding, and often younger, tourists would ever order the dish.
 
I just saw, after returning home, that Anthony Bourdain filmed a part of his No Reservations show at Osteria al Diavolo e L'Acquasanta in 2009.  He didn’t eat spaghetti and meatballs, of course.  He might have actually enjoyed them, though.

​As much as I seem to drink, I don’t seem to drink enough.  For example, I was not familiar with the Southside, a classic gin-based cocktail that’s been around since the Prohibition era or earlier, until I read its description on Public Service’s menu after strolling a few blocks there on one of incredibly warm early evenings not too long ago.
 
The Southside is attributed to the famed 21 Club in Manhattan.  The version at downtown’s Public Services done so well consists of London dry gin, fresh mint, lime juice and simple syrup shaken and strained into a quaint coupe cocktail glass and garnished with a lemon peel.  Served cold, both slightly sweet and tart, but wonderfully balanced, it is very flavorful and refreshing and possibly too easy to consume on a warm day.  I’ve enjoyed several since then at Public Services.  They do it much better than most places, as they do most cocktails.
 
Public Services
202 Travis (at Franklin), (713) 516-8897
publicservicesbar.com

I was fortunate in years past to travel to Italy with the Gruppo Ristoranti Italiani (now Gruppo Italiano) in their gastronomic treks highlighting high quality Italian food and wine producers.  One of those trips, to the region of Molise, was to La Molisana, a commercial pasta maker on the outskirts of the regional capital of Campobasso.  The visit included a tour of the modern factory and subsequent five-course feast in their demonstration kitchen.
 
Though the dinner was terrific – pasta figured prominently in every dish and well-made and well-paired wine was plentiful – a highlight for me were the instructions on how the proper way to prepare dried pasta, directly from the pasta maker.  But, everyone knows how to boil pasta, don’t they?  Not really.  And, the instructions from one of the co-owners drew considered interest from those within earshot in what was an extremely food-savvy group.
 
The instructions:
 

1. Bring copious amount of water to a boil.
2. Add a generous amount of salt.
3. Add the pasta.
4. Close the lid until it returns to a boil.
5. Remove lid.
6. Cook pasta until done.
7. Drain the pasta.

 
It is quite simple, though closing the lid after adding the pasta was seemingly new to most.  It was to me.  As to the amount of water for the pasta or the amount of salt, a generous amount of each was understood. 
 
Plied by our hosts that night with an enormous box containing nearly ten pounds of pasta – and subsequently encountering stares in the airports in Rome, Lisbon and Newark afterwards – I used those instructions when cooking it, and with the pasta since then.  I could really tell the difference with the La Molisana, though.  The quality of La Molisana is superior to what I typically use – and even better than DeCecco, which is excellent – and the improvement certainly lies in that rather than in any optimal cooking process.  La Molisana is available at H-E-B, at least online.
 
But, it is nice to know the optimal way to do it.

​I was in Chicago last weekend for a cousin’s wedding with Michelin as a ready guide for restaurants in the West Loop where I was staying.  I was wary of Michelin in this country having heard from at least one restaurateur friend that the reviewers really did not understand American dining habits, though that was a few years ago.  Thankfully, the Michelin guide turned out to be as useful as did last month in Italy, and helped make the weekend even more enjoyable, and caloric.
 
To start the weekend’s dining, I terrific meal at The Publican, which wears a Bib Gourmand distinction from Michelin – very good food and good prices.  In fairness, The Publican would have likely been on my list anyway, having been highly recommended by friends and family and having seen it on more than one of the food and travel shows.  Fresh, flavorful apricots highlighted a salad to start with burrata and a very appropriate supporting cast that included crisp greens, which proved to be perfect feeling warm after the walk from the hotel and also to preface my entrée of crisp veal sweetbreads.  Maybe sweetbread is a better description as it was a single large piece battered and fried, “like a schnitzel” according my very good waitress.  In a seemingly odd and busy sauce that combined a bagna cauda-inspired sauce and that used for veal tonnato, it was quite complementary to the meat / gland with the prominent flavor of anchovy somewhat masking the nickel-taste of the sweetbreads.  I was very happy.  Actually, I was happy soon after receiving my first drink, a half-liter of draft Andechser Weissbier Hell, a Bavarian hefe-weizen from the famed monastic brewery near Munich that is fairly rare in this country.  It was fresh and absolutely terrific, and among the very best hefe-weizens you can find; in the league with the redoubtable Ayinger Brau-Weisse.  There were more drinks and some more food, including a complimentary dessert and a very enjoyable meal in a bustling, fun setting.  I am not sure how it received a Bib Gourmand citation, though.  The food prices were fair and even low for some of the proteins, but the beers – something in which the aptly named Publican specializes – were very high.  The wines are slightly expensive and without much of selection or seemingly that well selected.  Minor quibbles.
 
The Publican was followed digestifs in the form of mescal at Rick Bayless’s’ Leña Brava.  The next morning Roister from the Alinea group impressed me as very deserving of its Michelin even just for a breakfast dish, a not-so-Southern take on biscuits and gravy.  As enjoyable as that was, the michelada I had to accompany it was easily the best michelada I have ever had, spicy courtesy of Japanese peppers but balanced and quite flavorful.  Stephanie Izard’s Little Goat Diner served an even better breakfast the next morning, This Little Piggy Went to China.  This was sesame cheddar biscuit in a couple of halves, on one rested a Sichuan-scented pork sausage then sunny-side up eggs with a chili garlic chive sauce. And chives scattered about with about ten blackberries.  Both Chinese or Sichuan and American at the same time, for breakfast.  Everything was good in itself and complementary like the blackberries whose slight sweetness made a welcome pair to the piquant sauce and sausage, especially later in the dish.  All good.
 
It was a good trip, in a terrific neighborhood for dining and imbibing, and helped by Michelin.
 

​Of all of the stops during a recent two-week trip to Italy, I was most wary of dining in Venice during.  I had never been to ultra-touristy Venice but knew it long had a reputation for restaurants serving poor food at high prices to visitors.  It had been somewhat allayed by the experiences of a fellow food writer who raved about dining in the several days she and her husband had spent there a few years ago.  But, early this year, a restaurant near the touristy center made international news for charging Japanese students over €1,100 (over $1,300) for just four steaks, a platter of fried seafood and a few drinks. 
 
Thanks in large part to the trusty Michelin guide, the three days in Venice saw good and very good meals with just one exception.  It wasn’t recommended in Michelin, of course.  The restaurant that I hoped to visit that evening was, but mobility issues in our group precluded a walk there – or water taxi.  The restaurant we ended up was close by and had a menu filled with Venetian specialties.  It was seemingly as untouristy as a restaurant might be near the Accademia in Venice.
 
Taverna San Travaso might have been, but our meal was pretty lousy.  It was a bad meal and the worst of my two weeks in Italy last month.  I definitely felt like a ripped-off tourist afterwards; the restaurant was not trying at all. 
 
A harbinger of the mediocrity, and worse, was the pitcher of prosecco we ordered to start.  A pitcher of prosecco was quite appropriate with the hot weather, and a cool way to start, especially since we don’t often see sparkling wine on tap and by the pitcher.  It wasn’t really sparkling though.  It was effervescent, if with more than enough bubbles to bring it beyond the level of still wine.  It was not terribly good, either, though deservedly inexpensive.  Soon after the carafes arrived were the mixed antipasti.  The Caprese di Bufala, or Caprese salad, featured pale red, thick and lifeless tomatoes that were about the worst I had ever seen in nearly ten trips to Italy.  Given how good tomatoes typically are in Italy, I had only once had witnessed tomatoes nearly as bad.  Awful.
 
It got worse, though, at least for my brother.  He ordered a seafood soup as his first course.  It was terrible.  Inedible, in fact.  He asked a couple of others to try, too, to their disgust, and had to send it back.  With nothing but a shrug from the waiter.  I am not sure if it was even taken off the bill.  My starter was not nearly as bad, but not what was advertised, and rather fraudulent.  It supposed to be bigoli in a duck ragu.  My bigoli, which is a type freshly made pasta from the region that is like a softer, thick spaghetti was just thin, commercially made spaghetti.  The simple duck ragu was not bad, but straightforward and rather simple without much in the way anything other than thin duck meat and jus.  At least my pasta was thoroughly cooked.  The two orders of gnocchi at the table were vastly undercooked, often doughy and quite unpalatable.
 
The rest of the meal was not nearly as bad.  My veal scaloppine al marsala featured veal that was far from tender, grainy and not very enjoyable by itself in a simple, sweet-than-it-should-be sauce.  The dish was barely mediocre and something I might expect from a below average Ruby Tuesday.  It was probably worse than that.  The bland fish filet that both my father and a brother ordered might have been better but far from what you might hope for from a restaurant steps from the sea, and far from what my brother catches in Galveston Bay.
 
Overall, Taverna San Travaso was very disappointing visit – one that a fair amount of wine and good company could not entirely overcome – and restaurant I would highly recommend missing if in Venice. 

​
This unappetizing gray dish was supposed to bigoli with a duck ragu.  Instead, spaghetti with some dull duck meat was a better description, but there was far worse served for our dinner.

​The second amuse bouche featured a pressed cube of guinea fowl, I thought I overheard one of my family members repeating the chef’s description, along with a circular dollop of a rich aioli atop .  The meat was excellent, and with the rich sauce, unctuous, and absolutely delicious.  I was humming audibly with delight at the end of the table.  I was also about uncontrollably audible for the first one, a wedge of a Belgian waffle tasting almost solely of terrific Parmigiano.  The rest of the meal including a stellar version of the local classic tortelli d’erbette, silky egg-laden ravioli filled with ricotta and bitter beet spinach and complemented with amazingly flavorful grated Parmigiano that helped make this best pasta dish I had during my two weeks in Italy.  Excellent veal belly, with succulent, salty fat eaten together with the tender meat was very enjoyable, much better veal than I am used to in Italy.  A cheese course was Parmigiano, of course, the king of cheeses at 24, 30 and 36 months respectively.  This was easily the best meal during the trip for me.  This was at Parizzi, a restaurant bearing a Michelin star in Parma that I dined a couple of weeks ago.
 
The current Michelin Guide for Italy, which I picked up just for the trip, was on point yet again.  We were five-for-five with very good meals from restaurants mentioned in the guide.  In addition to Parizzi in Parma, there was Da Ermenio in Assisi, Bussa-alla Torre in Murano, La Franceschetta58 in Modena, and Ai Gondolieri in Venice.  This continues the luck I have had with Michelin in Europe.  If it is in the Michelin guide, it is worth visiting.  It doesn’t matter if it does not have a star or Bib Gourmand designation – excellent food that’s a good value – it usually serves very good food.  It hasn’t been perfect.  During my previous visit to Italy several years ago, a restaurant with star in country southeast of Rome turned out an unbalanced and unsatisfying meal – a set menu featuring just a series of all heavy dishes during the summer.  It subsequently lost its star.  That another meal a return to Bib Gourmand restaurant in Siena that did not live up to its initial visit were the only two of the numerous Michelin-directed restaurants I’ve visited.  It even did good work in Ireland years ago.
 
I’m heading up to Chicago for a weekend soon.  Maybe I’ll put the American Michelin inspectors to a test, as Chicago is just one of four American cities that Michelin judges.  Their European brethren have been spot-on for years for me.  Something to mention, is that the Michelin recommended restaurants always skew higher price wise.  There is nothing in it that will be a cheap eat, often good values, but never inexpensive.  You’ll be on vacation, though.  Enjoy yourself.

​My Margherita Pizza Project just has two or three stops left.  Thankfully.  The margheritas I’ve had recently haven’t been that great on average.  That includes some I had during a two week sojourn in Italy.
 
Cane Rosso (Montrose) – Satisfactory
Dolcevita (Parma) – Good
La Fresca (Heights) – Satisfactory
Mia Bella (Greenway Plaza) – Fair
Osteria Giuseppe Verdi (Parma) – Poor
Rocco’s – Poor
Roma’s Pizza – Poor


At Dolcevita near the Piazza Garibaldi in Parma, Italy

​I do not like Sagrantino.  It has to be my least favorite Italian grape.  I’ve had some highly rated Sagrantinos, too, including several shipped from the acknowledged leader in the varietal, Arnaldo Caprai, around an interview I had with proprietor Marco Caprai several years ago.  Though certainly very well-made wines, I did not really like any of the three, even after lengthy decanting, even the one retailing for over $100.  My general dislike of Sagrantino was confirmed during a recent week in Umbria, where the red varietal has become the region’s vinous calling card. 
 
Sagrantino produces rich, dark wines that I find to be unpleasantly pretty much all tannins and virtually no fruit.  These are wines that are need to be consumed with a lot of fat to help mitigate those tannins.  Even with a fatty, tasty grilled Fiorentina cut of steak during the trip – seemingly the ideal complement to the wine – I still did not like the few-year-old Sagrantino with it.  The simpler boxed red wine that I switched back to was not only more pleasing alone but a much better pairing the steak to my tastes.  According to a manager at one of the wineries visited during the trip, Sagrantino typically needs nearly a decade before the wines are truly palatable as the tannins finally become integrated and mostly tamed while more pleasing flavors come to the fore.  I can see that. 
 
However, I did find a Sagrantino that I really enjoyed while in Umbria.  Our new friend at the Chiorri winery, conveniently located across the street from the villa we had rented, wanted us to try one of their rosés, the Ventorosa - Rosato I.G.T. dell’ Umbria that is made with 100% Sagrantino.  I was a bit worried when I saw it was all Sagrantino but trusted her.  And It was delicious.  And there was fruit.  I sensed strawberry, maybe blackberry and even a hint of pomegranate in a typically dry style with a very nice finish.  Even vinified to 13.5%, this dry rosé was scarily easy to drink alone and the two bottles disappeared quickly among our group.  Those aggressive tannins in the typical red versions of Sagrantino were pretty much absent, as they should be in a rosé. 
 
I don’t believe that this wine is available in the U.S.  I found it was just €6.90 (about $8) on a German site and at the Chiorri winery it is just around €5.20 (around $6).  Ridiculously inexpensive for such a quality wine, and one that I liked better than the Provencal rosés I have been consuming this spring and summer for several dollars more.  There is hope for Sagrantino for me yet, if for now in paler shade than usual for the grape.

​That Osteria Francescana, the famed and Michelin-three-starred restaurant in Modena from chef Massimo Bottura, had been named the best restaurant in the world just a few days earlier was not in our mind when we day-tripped from our hotel in Parma just a thirty-minute or so train ride away.  It was on our mind much earlier, or in mine, at least.  I had first heard about Osteria Francescana maybe fifteen years earlier, and it had long been a restaurant that I had wanted to visit.  The prices at Osteria Francescana precluded a stop during the trip last week: first courses (primi) currently runs from €60-70 and secondi from €90-120 – and I imagine I would want at least one other course, be it an antipasto or dolce – while ten-course tasting menu is €250, which can be paired with wines for another €140, or twelve courses (€270 + €180).  These prices in dollars are nearly 20% more.  Ouch.  And, reservations in its tiny space are fairly precious to come by. 
 
However, Franceschetta58, its casual cohort or “little cousin” according to its website, was very much part of the hopeful itinerary during a quick jag to Modena. The day to Modena was relaxed; unorganized, too.  We were running later than expected as we got into the city and nearing the end of the lunch service, and without reservations.  After getting out of the station, we flagged a cab and after some confusion about whether or not to scrap Franceschetta58 and just head to the nearby Ferrari museum, we decided to make our way to the restaurant, which was somewhat more than the six-minute walk Google Maps had mistakenly shown the night before.
 
The eight of us stumbled somewhat into the quaint wedge-shaped sliver of a restaurant somewhat obliviously.  There isn’t much to the airy, inviting space; tables seating about thirty people and a fairly thin communal strip of wood seating about ten more.  I surprised that it was a small as it was.  As the lead for our hungry group, I was met very affably, and in decent English, by the front of the house twosome, each of whom proved friendly, energetic, and very helpful.  They also seemed to love their jobs, as my mother later commented to one of them, who then smiled broadly.  No luck: they were fully booked.  We milled about the front for maybe ten minutes deciding what to do.  I was about to ask for them to call us taxis to a café that they recommended, as finding food at that time in Modena on a Monday was not easy, but then they said that diners were leaving more quickly than expected and that we could actually be seated if we didn’t mind not sitting together.  I quickly responded that that was no problem, and thanks – there was only one complaint among us that was forgotten with the advent of the meal and wine – and the eight of us were sat among four small tables. 
 
A fixed three-course menu with five choices for the first and second courses, Smart Lunch at €25, is the only option for lunch at Franceschetta58.  It is an excellent value.  Mostly Italian and mostly Emilian in cuisine, but also featuring global dishes and influences, I found nearly all of the choices tempting and likely would have been satisfied with any of them.  As my starter I went with what proved to be an artful presentation of beef tartare with chives, mustard, yogurt, and thin slices of green apple and cucumber.  I didn’t have enough tartare the night before and, though tempted by the “Emilia Burger by Massimo Bottura,” I couldn’t quite pull the trigger on a burger as my first course.  My brother did and quite enjoyed it and its petite patty.  My father and nephew had nearby tables each made very quick work of the beautiful platter of salumi and cheese. Everyone was greatly pleased with their choices.  As for the wine, the list is not long but there are plenty of welcome choice including a number under €25.  A Sauvignon from the Collio did the trick again for my table.
 
When asked, our server recommended for the second course over the roasted octopus the “Chitarra” spaghetti with anchovy cream, chicory and an impressive amount of crispy chile-spiced bread crumbs.  The chitarra was a nod to the fresh spaghetti-like pasta made Abruzzo region, traditionally by a guitar-looking device that renders a noodle with a square cross section.  Heavy on anchovy flavor, saltiness and bread crumbs, this was a pleasantly assertive dish with toothsome pasta that I really enjoyed; a fairly simple dish, nicely upgraded in a clever, chef-y fashion.  It was the favorite among Italian patrons according to our server.  Italians were outnumbered in the dining room when we were admitted.  Both tables next to me, about a foot-and-a-half away, were occupied by Americans, as were at least another or two, plus British accents from the wealthier strata were heard when exiting.  Though I like being about the only tourist at a restaurant, it didn’t detract at all from the experience.  The conviviality of the place along with the evidenced enthusiasm and knowledgeability of the other diners helped to enhance it.  Especially so, the folks next to us – between two tables of us, actually – were in the hospitality industry and had recently stocked with meats to cook at their rental from lauded Tuscan butcher Dario Cecchini, from whom my family had a great steak luncheon several years before.
 
Dessert was Zuppa Inglese, which was chocolate custard, pastry cream and sponge cake, and with a bit of cochineal tea poured over it, if I heard the server correctly.  Nicely bitter, it was enjoyable and different, if not quite a mouthwatering finale.  It was an excellent lunch on all counts.
 
Franceschetta58 is truly “an unexpected deviation from a traditional osteria” as it advertises.  It served the most unique food that we experienced in a couple of weeks of dining in Italy.  The restaurant was not just eminently inviting, but also one with a palpable world class pedigree along with evident talent and passion throughout.
 
Franceschetta58
Via Vignolese, 58, Modena, Italy, +39 059 3091008
franceschetta.it

​The waitress returned about five or ten minutes after the order of our pastas and meat dishes that the gnocchi was no longer available and was it fine to substitute ravioli for the gnocchi while serving it with the same duck ragù.  Talking with family with wine on the table, I quickly said yes without really thinking.  If forgetful at that moment, I certainly knew better, and somewhat predictably, it turned out to be a mistake upon first bite.
 
L’U Wine Bar in the village Torgiano in the region of Umbria a couple of hours north of Rome was recommended at the Lungarotti winery nearby where we had stopped beforehand to taste and purchase wines.  Also owned by the Lungarotti family, the menu states, “LE ZUPPE E LE PASTE FATTE IN CASA”: the soups and pastas are made in house.  The ravioli with its resilient texture and bland taste of the pasta and filling reminded me of the supermarket stuffed pastas that I had long since stopped purchasing.  It proved to be the worst pasta dish of my two weeks in Italy.  More bland and uninteresting than bad, the duck ragù was decent, if soon forgettable.  With the initial batch of gnocchi gone – wiped out by the tour group of two dozen or so on what was otherwise a very empty restaurant – the kitchen seemingly just opened the refrigerator and a couple of packages to complete the orders.
 
I know that restaurants in Italy sometimes resort to pre-packaged ravioli and the like, especially the less ambitious ones or ones less concerned with pleasing tourists.  I’ve had lame from-the-plastic-wrapped-package -to-the-pot I expected something more from this place, which was not only associated with the biggest winery in the region, but also a hotel, and not a cheap hotel but the Le Valle Resort & Spa with five stars.  But, if I was paying attention, I would have asked if the ravioli were made in house because a couple of the previous items I had were evidence that the restaurant was not really trying at all that day, or maybe any day.  My antipasto of Uovo strapazzato con tartufo, eggs with truffles, featured bits of dark truffles without any discernible aroma or taste.  My Parisian-trained chef sister-in-law was convinced that the truffles in those dishes were from a can.  I thought maybe not even a very good can.  The eggs were enjoyable, even without any truffle flavor or welcoming scent.  Also, the bread on the table – for me an indicator of the quality of a restaurant, maybe especially in Italy – was a recently made brownish bread that was not terribly tasty.  The menu itself featured mostly fall and winter dishes; it did not look like it had changed in a while and wasn’t very well suited to that day in the upper 80s and in a dining room without air conditioning. 
 
These things should have moved me to a different dish when prompted by the lack of gnocchi.  I was on vacation, though, and two or three glasses slowed me down, even if it didn’t make the pasta dish any more enjoyable.