Photos: Carciofi alla Romana and Tagliolini di Pasta Fresca al Funghi Porcini
This afternoon, we made a pilgrimage to my father’s favorite restaurant in Rome, Settimio’s. We always strive to be good tourists and avoid the “ugly American” label, and on this day, we were especially committed to acting as “local” as possible – at least as far as eating goes. We were in no hurry and intended to sit back, relax, and enjoy a leisurely meal.
When dining in Italy, locals expect one to eat three courses: an antipasti (appetizer), primi (soup or pasta) and secondi (main course) – though I often don’t because it is simply too much food. Today, however, in our attempt to act “local” at this non – tourist stop, we were prepared to fully indulge.
We started out well: I ordered Carciofi alla Romana (artichokes Roman style), Taglioline di Pasta Fresca al Funghi Porcini (pasta with porcini mushrooms), and Ossobuco di Vitello con Polenta (Bone marrow with polenta). Elisa went with the Tagliolini Pasta Fresca con Bufala e Pomodorini (homemade pasta with mozzarella and tomato); and Erik preferred the mixed salad, followed by Tagliolini di Pasta Pomodoro e Basilico (pasta with tomato and basel) and Polenta e Gorgonzola.
We chatted over our delectable antipasti and relaxed for the first hour as we waited for our primi. When it arrived, the pasta was homemade and excellent. Another hour ticked by, and we eyed nervously our restless six-year-old. Finally, after two hours had passed since we sat down – and we had had just about all the leisure we thought we could take – we thought it would not be too demanding if we were to inquire about our secondi. Truth be told, I was completely full from my first two courses, but I had mentally steeled myself for this feast, and I was determined to follow through.
It was about this time when my husband saw our waiter reviewing his tabs. A look of mild distress crossed his face, and he quickly looked up at us sheepishly, “Do you still want your secondi?” It was clear he had forgotten our order completely. Mostly relieved, we told him that no, we thought we would pass on the secondi.
As we left, we had had quite a chuckle over our failed attempt to be locals. In our quest to be good tourists and avoid being demanding Americans, we learned a good lesson: it’s okay to ask for one’s meal as long as one is polite and pleasant. Certainly it is better than waiting for food that is not coming! As for the Ossobuco, I had it for dinner at one of my father’s other recommended restaurant, and it was delicious!
Read about other food adventures at Wanderfood Wednesday.