All About The People: Nuraghe Sardo, Rome
I wrote a recent post about my top 5 food memories of all time, and everytime I read it I have two reactions. One that almost brings me to tears of happiness, loving to romanticize these memories, some from a decade ago, and the other reaction is thinking that this list of 5 does not even scratch the surface on meals that changed my life. So, where does that leave me...all these wonderful memories and no blog post to show for them!
When I really start to break it down though, the food always tastes better with great service and great company. The memories that are worthy of being added to the list of ‘greatest meals’ exist because they are also immediately associated to great people.
The Food is all about the people. I will say it again, the Food is all about the people.
Over the coming months and potentially years, I want to do a monthly dedication post. A dedication post to great restaurants and food, but really an appreciation post for great service, for thoughtful farming, for brilliant cookery, and maybe the most important of them all, for front of house excellence. Those that leave you beaming because of the experience they gave you, these are the hard working folks of my beloved industry that I always want to make sure I tip my hat too!
Today is going to be my first appreciation post, dedicated once again to my time spent in Rome, and more specifically to my father and the wonderful owners of Nuraghe Sardo, a Sardinian restaurant just north of the Vatican. As I wrote about my dad and our infamous bucatini with meat sauce in my post about the greatest meals I have ever eaten, this particular memory kept nagging at me. Though I had officially narrowed my list down to my top 5, I always felt like Nuraghe Sardo should have been apart of that list.
Pictured: Dad and I in Rome at the Stadio Olimpico. I do not have many pictures of us but this is one of my all time favorites, AND it represents the trip that holds 2 of my most precious food memories ~ Bucatini with Meat Sauce, and Narughe Sardo.
Il dolce far niente. – It is sweet doing nothing.
For so many reasons, this food memory lives with me. The first of those was that we had planned to eat elsewhere, just up the street in fact at a local hot spot that the owner of the apartment Dad and Laura (stepmom) were staying at recommended. I remember feeling excited for this meal.
Upon arrival, there were about 8 available tables in the quaint little dining room, but we were quickly told they were all full. This is not the type of restaurant that does reservations, but instead, I was left feeling like we were too American to eat there. Being the privileged young woman that I am, I don’t think I had much experience at that point in my life being somewhere that I was so clearly unwanted. As I stood there and haggled in my broken Italian it became very clear that there was no amount of “wait time” that was going to ever free up a table for us. In a moment of frustration, my dad, stepmom and I walked out and marched down the street back where we had come from. As our bellies rumbled and our attitudes diminished we decided somewhat quickly to walk into a restaurant we had passed earlier that evening. As soon as we walked in the door, the owner welcomed us like we were family. I will never forget him and the female server who waited on us that day. They were exceptional, and kind, and nothing is better than kindness.
Yes, it is a blurry/terrible picture, but this was the show stopping fish dish that makes this dinner memory so special!
The magic of this experience was that even though we didn’t speak the same language we fell in love with the people, we couldn’t read the menu and yet the best dishes hit the table, we hadn’t planned to be there but we were dropped into this perfectly captivating evening. Never forget that things unexpected can turn into enchanting memories that leave you wide eyed grinning at the ceiling, daydreaming about great bites, loud laughs and friends for a night. The most vivid thing I remember was eating a beautifully cooked whole white fish, laid on a bed of thinly sliced potatoes. I remember Laura and dad taking a bite and smiling, I remember thinking I am living the Roman dream. You are supposed to have those influential “italian” moments when you visit, and I thought this was the most special of those kinds of moments. A silly romanticized thought, but one that still brings me joy and will live with me for the rest of my life.
Italian culture in general is much slower paced than the American rat race, they indulge in coffee and sweets in the morning, in an afternoon siesta, they sit down to eat and have no expectation of when they will leave, they share their wine with anyone who wants, they eat and drink and smoke, and eat and drink and smoke their way through an evening like no other place I have ever been. You do not have to love every aspect of this, I know many are not fond of the smoking or the 4 hour dinners, but what you must do when in Italy is embrace this purposefully mellow and beautiful lifestyle.
La Dolce Vita - The Sweet Life
As the night went on, the owner would bring us different dishes to try, all of his favorites and all of them equally delicious. My favorite part though was my introduction to the culture behind Limoncello. If you are not familiar, this is a Lemony alcoholic beverage that is synonymous with Italian restaurant culture. As we approached the desert portion of our meal, I really could not tell you what we ate, but what I do know is that my father almost threw back an entire bottle of Limoncello by himself! I think all 3 of us were surprised by this element of service, they simply bring it to you; 3 little cups and a 750ml of Limoncello, Maybe in normal circumstances this is not so normal, to give patrons free drinks, but in our case the owner kept urging us on and explaining that it was for everyone and that he wanted us to enjoy ourselves. Maybe we were only supposed to have one little glass to finish off our meal, but we drank much more than that! I know we also got a brown bottle of booze at some point, my guess looking back is that it was some kind of Sherry, or Fernet, or even Frangelico or Marsala or Nocino; one of the many famous Italian liquors.
As I reflect back on this beautiful gem of a memory, I do believe there is an aspect to this communal gifting of beverages and food that is quintessentially Italian, to break bread with neighbors, to feed them, to laugh together, to spend 3 hours at the dinner table exchanging stories and cigarettes, topping off glasses and clinking them merrily; there is no other place on earth that does community and food quite like the Italians. A tip of my hat to this culture, but more importantly to the owner and family that ran this restaurant. One night, that may have seemed like any other to you, is forever burned into my mind even a decade later!