Cinque Terre – Five Lands – is a string of five picturesque fishing villages on the Italian Riviera. This morning we took the train from Santa Margherita Ligure to the southern-most Cinque Terre village, Riomaggiore. Now we’re ready to have lunch in Vernazza.
It’s a 10-minute train ride from Riomaggiore to Vernazza. We hopped off the train and made the short walk through the main part of town to the marina. The marina here is larger than the one at Riomaggiore, and it’s lined with cafes and restaurants. We settled into one called “Il Gambero Rosso” – The Red Prawn.
Lunch at Il Gambero Rosso
We sat a table outside, under umbrellas, looking out over the marina. It was a beautiful spot. And as a bonus, the morning’s drizzle was clearing up as the sun made its first appearance of the day.
A friendly waiter handed us menus. Immediately, I found what I was looking for – anchovies. There they were, in multiple places on the menu. I liked the appetizer version best: “Mix of Anchovies Gambero Rosso Style.”
This was the appetizer I had been looking for. Can you imagine? Nothing but anchovies, fresh from the sea, prepared in different ways? My Better Half informed me that she was having no part of “Mix of Anchovies Gambero Rosso Style.” No problemo. C’è più per me! (“Cheh pyoo pear meh”) – More for me!
For our main courses, we ordered spaghetti a la Bolognese, (spaghetti with meat sauce), and a local specialty called “Trofie.” (“trrroh-fyeh”). To make trofie, they form pasta dough into oddly-shaped little pieces that are fat in the middle and skinny at the ends. The cooked pasta is served in pesto made from fresh basil leaves, garlic, pine nuts, and olive oil – all local products.
Un Bel Momento
We ordered some vino and sat, looking out over the marina, taking in the view. A guy showed up and started playing a clarinet, serenading everyone eating in the string of restaurants here. He played all those old Italian songs that you recognize and can probably whistle, but don’t know the names of.
My “Mix of Anchovies Gambero Rosso Style” was awesome, but by the time the main courses showed up, I was done with anchovies for a while. Whoa. I needed something in my stomach besides anchovies. Note to self – don’t eat a plateful of fried anchovies by myself – unless absolutely necessary!
Our main courses were as good as expected. The whole experience was so nice, sitting there alongside the little marina, eating great food, and sipping vino while listening to songs like “O Sole Mio” being deftly played on the clarinet.
Additional Entertainment
A group of ten tourists at a table nearby provided additional entertainment. The fellow sitting at the head of the table was the spokesman for the group. He spoke zero italian, but he was the spokesman. He was a giant pain in the neck for the server who was trying to take the group order.
The customer, holding the menu, pointed to one item after another, asking for explanations. The server patiently obliged, even though it was obvious to us that the customer had no clue what he was saying. The server knew he was wasting his time, too, but he kept on going, being patient, professional, and polite.
We’d been watching the whole thing. Every once in awhile the server would look over at us, then look up to the sky as if to say “Oy Vey!”! Or whatever the Italian equivalent of “oy vey” might be. Finally, the order went in.
When the food showed up, everyone was happy except the guy who had done the ordering. He didn’t want what he had ordered. I suspect he was making a stink just to impress his group and to show ‘em he was The Man.
This…. Is THIS!
When this knucklehead customer told the server he didn’t want what was brought to him, the server grabbed a menu and pointed at one of the dishes. “Is this what you ordered?” he asked.
The customer indicated, “yes.” Then the server said, “Well, this,” pointing at the item on the menu, “is THIS,” pointing at the plate sitting on the table in front of the guy.
“Well I don’t want it,” the customer said, in so many words.
“But this is what you ordered,” said the server.
They went back and forth like that for awhile, and finally the server let him order something else.
By this time we had finished our lunch and were just about ready to leave, but first I had to use the rest room. It was located inside the restaurant, all the way in the back. Inside, there weren’t any customers, just employees.
Mamma Mia!
When I passed back through the restaurant on my way out, the server who had been dealing with the terrible customer was telling the other servers about him. He recognized me, so I pointed outside at the problem-child customer and said something like, “Incredibile!” (“Een-creh-DEE-bee-leh!”).
To this, the server loudly replied, “Mamma Mia!”, accompanied by gesturing that no one can do as well as an Italian. Everyone inside was laughing. This was the first time I had ever heard anyone in Italy say, “Mamma Mia!” I thought it might be something we just think they say, but they don’t really say it. But there it was. “Mamma Mia!” You gotta love it.
To be continued….
Photo Credit for the great photo at the top of this post: flickr.com/photos/150594450@N07/
