Portofino is a beautiful little town on the Italian Riviera. We’ve just had the grand tour, provided by a most-engaging Portofino taxi driver. Now we’re back in Santa Margherita Ligure, making dinner plans. I read about a restaurant here that’s supposed to be like eating at your Italian nonna’s house. I don’t have an Italian nonna, but it sounds molto buono, eh?
Hiding Place of the Rich and Famous
Portofino was interesting. It’s known as a “playground of the rich and famous,” but it has the charm of a small fishing village. As we learned from our taxi driver, (the Italian Sebastian Cabot), you don’t see them, but the super-rich are here. They’re sequestered in posh hotels and villas nestled in the woods around gorgeous Portofino bay. “Hiding place of the rich and famous” would be a suitable description of Portofino.
And then there’s the Russian connection. Apparently, Portofino is a favorite destination of super-rich Russians. According to our taxi driver, “They stay for months at a time. They have so much money, it means nothing to them.”
When he told us about the Russian connection, a little light went on. Last night at dinner in Santa Margherita Ligure, we noticed an exotic-looking couple at a table nearby. They oozed money. Both wore shiny leather and plenty of bling. Even though it was late evening, he wore darkened glasses. His thin, black hair was slicked back with plenty of hair goop. We were trying to guess where they were from. Now I think we know. Maybe.
When dinnertime rolled around, we walked to the neighborhood where the nonna’s restaurant was located. We found it without much trouble. It looked inviting from the outside. Definitely a “locals” place, away from the tourist zone. Lace curtains hung in the windows, just like there ought to be at any self-respecting Italian nonna’s house.
We opened the door and went in. It was a little one-room restaurant with 10-15 tables. The walls were painted yellow and light blue. It was simply, but tastefully decorated. It looked like someone turned the living and dining rooms of their house into a restaurant.
We were greeted at the door by a lady who looked just like someone’s little Italian grandmother. In fact, I’m sure she WAS someone’s little Italian grandmother. It didn’t take long for us to figure out who ran this operation.
Nonna’s House
She showed us a table and took care of us as we settled in and ordered. She took care of everyone else in the little restaurant, too. In fact, she was the only person we saw working the whole time we were there.
My now-very-hungry Better Half noticed “gamberi” on the menu. Ooooo. Maybe it would be like the gamberi she’d had for lunch in Parma. She ordered linguini con gamberi. We started with a caprese salad, and I ordered a local fish dish.
It was nice just to sit at our table, sip vino, munch on bread, and enjoy the pleasant surroundings. The room was full of people, but it was still relatively quiet. One thing we like about Europe is that when they’re in restaurants, people respect each other. They keep their voices low so they don’t bother people sitting around them.
Back home in the US of A, it’s not uncommon for people to be loud in restaurants. Then their neighbors have to be loud too, so they can hear each other. The noise level can get pretty high. No one notices because that’s the way it is everywhere.
This reminds me of another form of group behavior that can be annoying. It happens at airports, when you’re waiting at the carousel for your luggage to arrive from the plane.
The first people at the carousel stand back a ways, watching for their luggage to come down the conveyer. As more people show up, a few knuckleheads will move in close to get the best view of the carousel. But in doing so, they block other peoples’ view, so one by one, everyone else has to get in as close to the rail as they can get.
Now, no one can see anything except what’s right in front of them, because everyone’s smashed up against the rail. If everyone – or at least most people – just stood back a few feet, then everyone would be able to see all the way down the line.
In My Dream World…
In my dream world, I would be someone who’s a wee bit more fearsome and gutsy than the real me. Someone like, say, Mr. T, from television back in the day. Then at the airport, when the first knucklehead squeezes in front of everyone else to get close to the rail, I’d give him a slap upside the head and say, “Go on back, fool! Have some manners! Stand back so everyone can see!”
In a restaurant, when someone starts getting excessively loud for no reason, I’d go over and say, “Keep it down, fool! People are trying to have a nice meal in here! Have some consideration!”
Yeah, that would be nice, eh? But where were we? I seem to have lost my place. If Mr. T were here, he’d probably tell me, “Pay attention, fool! If you don’t pay attention, you’ll lose your place!” Ha ha!
To be continued…
