Mouthwatering Artistry
Florence is a regal city with exceptional accessibility to the arts, history, fashion and of course food and wine. If I may, it’s a less chaotic Rome, a more pensive Venice and a worthy if not more understated adversary to the romance and grandeur of Paris. Upon arriving, Florence seduces its visitors with an intriguing duality. Seemingly all at once, we are confronted and challenged by the imposing, dramatic scale of the Duomo, Uffizi, and Palazzo Pitti only to later find ourselves enchanted by the old world, elegant intimacy of the city’s less congested streets and neighborhoods.
It was down one of these streets in Oltrarno, that I unexpectedly and unquestionably felt the city reach up and take hold of me. Even after answering the call a second time, I still feel its gripping lure to come back. I just know I still have life to live here. And strange as that may sound, and as captivated as I sound here with Florence, my first call back went all but undetected. I had thrown Florence on an itinerary to justify a 3rd trip back to Rome in November 2024. This was going to be a day trip and one that when I woke up that morning to catch the train honestly felt more like ticking off an obligation than embarking on a soulful (and always culinary) adventure.
I found myself that crisp November morning in Florence for the second time in my life with no concrete memories of having been there some twenty years before. Back then, I was a young, hungry totally inexperienced traveler trying to see as much of the world as I could. A dedicated box checker – I knew I’d seen the David, crossed the Ponte Vecchio and climbed up the 463 Duomo steps. This time my older, more discerning, curious feet carried me into the neighborhood behind the Via Santo Spirito. Tucked away now from the buzz of tourism, I felt with all its force and fervor, Florence take me in. And I knew it then. One more day was far from enough. I was coming back. I had to. And I did this past April. And I will again one day. I just have to.
We stayed in a fabulous Airbnb in Oltrarno just across the Arno river and away from the hustle and bustle of the tourist heavy hotspots. It was the perfect location – a comfortably luxurious respite on the edge of almost everything. Behind and all around us we could step out and live - if only for a few days - like a local shopping charming boutiques, bringing home tasty goodies from the butcher shop, Swedish bakery! and markets that overflowed with every kind of yummy Italian everything. Midweek there’s even a few trucks that set up with produce and takeaway food. We would come to feel most at home sipping wine at Enoteca Obsequium Wine Shop where we picked off perfectly curated charcuterie boards. We would swear never to come home again after we devoured bowls of pasta immaculately dusted with fresh black truffle at Trattoria Da Ginone 1949. And we would swear off diets and consequence as we unabashedly tackled mountains of Florentine Cream gelato just about to tip off of freshly made cones from La Strega Nocciola Gelateria.
The Black Truffle Pasta at Trattoria da Ginone 1949.
Even across the bridge reluctant as we sometimes were to venture, we found moments and tastes to relish. A couple of the more fashionable ones had us paying homage, literally I’m afraid to Florence’s legendary designers. The mouthwatering artistry of Massimo Bottura at the Gucci Osteria was in superb complement to Gucci’s own artistry on display at their swanky but friendly ‘hometown’ concept store. And had we just listened to tired feet, we would have totally written off the Salvatore Ferragamo Museum but thankfully I listened to my heart instead. I made my way breathless and entranced through the museum’s 9 red rooms that told the story of Ferragamo’s epic and sprawling life. Inspiration, admiration and resolve coursed through my veins in a way I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. I don’t yet know how I’ll come to convert that feeling but let’s just say in the moment, it translated into a credit card swipe for the most fabulous pair of ballet flats... We only live once as they say!
The stunning encore of a dessert at Gucci Osteria
To put it into more spiritual terms taste in Florence is poetry. It is art. It is divine. Even if life directs me somewhere else, I half believe my tastebuds belong right here.
As I type out the words, I relive each memory and as I do I make every effort to taste, smell and feel the energy of Florence around me all over again. I said in my last post - and Florence proves this out every time with reliable infallibility - that my taste buds never steer me in the wrong direction. But in all fairness, it’s not just the flavors and tastes of Florence enticing me to come back, it’s the creative capacity my heart and mind open up in simply being and breathing here. There are few places on this planet where we feel deeply connected to the ground we walk on. Florence is one such place for me and as I navigate through what’s next in life and love I know it will play a critical supporting role in inspiring me to rediscover self and purpose.
A fabulous Sunday dinner in the Oltrarno neighborhood, no fuss but plenty of authentic flavor…Trattoria da Ginone:
Friendly, tasty and really helpful on finding just the right glass or bottle to sip on... Enoteca Obsequium
Flavors are as rich as the colors inside. The tortellini, the bread service and the starters so yum.. Gucci Osteria
Maybe unexpected but a must try. Tiny and tasty. A truly fabulous cardamom bun… Wild Buns Bakery
So many choices, for me I kept going back for more of their Florentine Cream… La Strega Nocciola
