A Taste of Italy

The cobblestone roads and cement buildings encompassed our walk to the 'Secret Shop,' a term coined by our new Italian friends, as we made our way from the disco on an electrifying, enchanting morning in Florence. It was three am and we were rushing through back roads and alleyways to make it 'there' in time. None of us knew what exactly we were being led to, but we knew we didn't want to miss out.
Our Italian friends ushered us to a gray door with the phrase “Please be quiet” on a piece of paper. Pasticcieria Vinci & Bongini is located on a dark side street in the neighborhood of Piazza Peruzzi where bakers spend all night and early morning kneading dough and folding pastries to distribute to the bakeries throughout Florence. We each took out two euros, knocked on the door lightly, and huddled giddy with excitement. The warm, sweet smell filled the small street as we quietly whispered about what may appear from behind the door. Just as we were beginning to lose hope that these mystery treats existed, the door opened. Peering out at us was a baker dressed in a flour covered apron and broad smile. I craned my neck so I could capture a quick glance at what the ‘Secret Shop’ looked like on the inside. Unlike the bakeries I had passed during our trips in Florence, this one didn’t have the pastries out on display in clear glass shelves. Instead it was quite small, filled solely with steel ovens and trays of pastries piled on top of each other. The smell of sugar and fresh bread immediately filled my nostrils. In broken English the baker asked me what I wanted, but since there was no menu I simply said ‘something with chocolate.’ I handed my two Euros over and the door closed again. “Did he just take my money and leave?” thought the skeptic New Yorker in me. The door opened and the warm-eyed baker put his finger up to his mouth in a ‘shh’ gesture as he pulled a wrapped package out of his apron pocket and handed it to me. Inside my hand was a hot, chocolate filled croissant. Nutella oozed out of the front of the pastry and steam drifted into the Florence night air.
As I took a bite, the corners of the bakers’ lips curled up in a knowing smile that this certainly wasn’t the first time he saw a reaction like mine.The flaky consistency of the croissant mixed with the rich, sweet warm chocolate filled my taste buds with joy. We thanked our new friend and quietly made our way out of the alley. For a brief moment, I shared my very own secret with Florence.