Outside, Florence’s famous leather goods are sold all day, but inside, the shops selling fresh Tuscan produce stay open only between 7 am and 1 pm. While the aroma of fresh buttery croissants permeates the air, I rush to buy cold cuts, mushroom, cheese, olives, pesto, dried tomatoes, packed pastas, spice mixes, truffles, oils, vinegars and the famous Chianti wines from the region just south of Florence — things that can be used for a picnic here or a quick dinner back home.
I try to get to the market in time for a late breakfast so that I get a choice of fresh pastries and perhaps skip the queues at da Nerbone, an eatery that’s been here since 1872. My family shares a Panino con Bollito (a hefty boiled-meat bun dunked in the meat’s juices), fresh pasta, more pastry and a Café Coretta — an espresso with a shot of alcohol. This is one of the few places where they’ll serve this before lunch. Since the workday starts early here, 11 am is practically the end of the day.
This is my third trip to Florence and was planned around the Feast of St John — the patron saint of Florence. I step out of San Lorenzo to see a procession in Renaissance clothing, complete with drummers and trumpeters. Tomorrow, there’ll be a no-rules football match in front of the Basilica di Santa Croce — the city church where Michelangelo, Machiavelli, Galileo and Florence Nightingale are buried. But right now the square is open to tourists and I walk to Café Finisterrae for the best ricotta cheese croissant in Florence — a flaky pastry filled with sweet cheese-curd.
Obviously, I need another cup of coffee. Coffee is an important part of Italian culture and is usually drunk in small cups —or glasses — often standing up because you pay extra for service. It’s also ‘washroom currency’ because it’s considered polite to buy a cup of coffee at restaurants for a euro before you use the washroom. And, it’s delicious.
After the obligatory siesta, it’s time for a Spritz or Negroni cocktail. The Negroni was created in Florence and is a strong drink with gin, campari and sweet vermouth, while a Spritz contains Aperol, Prosecco and gin. It is Italy’s drink of choice for summer. I don’t like gin so I opt for Prosecco, a frothy white wine drunk like water in Tuscany.
We dawdle around after dinner till sunset. Grabbing a gelato from Gelateria Santa Trinita, we head to Piazza della Santo Spirito for drinks. And then, cross the Arno river to a rock concert at Piazza Repubblica, the square that’s been the centre of Florence since the Roman empire. We sit down for a coffee and gelato at the 18th century Café Paskowski, which had kept its Jewish name through two World Wars.
Around 2 am, we head back to our room so that we can start eating afresh tomorrow. It’s a hard job to eat your way through Italy.
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