Pasta, Wine and Old Women

Tucked along an Italian cobblestoned piazza in Florence, Trattoria Massacio was a small and unassuming restaurant. Inside, a dark waiter sat me at a long wooden table with paper placemats typical of the family-style, casual atmosphere of a traditional Italian eatery. With his long hair and handsome features I wanted to call the waiter Fabio, but his name was Simone. I ordered spaghetti pomodoro: a simple pasta with tomato sauce.

Simone brought me bread and red wine in a charming bottle that was set in a basket which emphasized that I was in Italy. More basket-bottles were hanging from the ceiling. A pair of old women in the corner were tucking into their first course: roast chicken. While eating, they sipped on white wine that they had mixed with aqua frizzante to make a spritzer.

A little later, Simone returned with my spaghetti pomodoro. It was a simple meal but was cooked to perfection. The wholesome starch of the pasta and the tangy sauce of tomatoes with zesty herbs was savory and delicious. I dipped the bread into a plate of olive oil and red wine vinegar and tasted the mellow, warm oil combined with the sharp acidity of vinegar soaked into crusty bread. The combination of flavors were both comforting and invigorating. Drinking the wine was like consuming a part of Italy itself. It was pungent, fruity, and passionate.

Food and wine, and the enjoyment of both, are central to Italian culture, and it crossed my mind that the fullness of the flavors reflected that of the Italian people. The love that goes into wine making and cooking is the same love that causes a pair of old women to spend hours over a several-course lunch, quietly chirping away all the while.

By the time I bid Simone “ciao” and “gratzi,” the old women were only on their third course, a crisp salad. I went back into the streets of Florence feeling full, satisfied, and deliriously happy.