A gourmet of my acquaintance thus describes a typical breakfast at the Quadri. "When you go to the restaurant do not be induced to go upstairs where the tourists are generally invited, but take a little table on the ground floor, where you can see all the piazza life, and begin with a Vermouth Amaro, in lieu of a "cocktail." For hors-d'œuvre have some small crabs, cold, mashed up with Sauce Tartare, and perhaps a slice or two of Presciuto Crudo, raw ham cut as thin as cigarette-paper. After this a steaming Risotto, with Scampe, somewhat resembling gigantic prawns. Some cutlets done in Bologna style, a thin slice of ham on top and hot Parmesan and grated white truffles and Fegato alla Veneziana complete the repast, except for a slice of Strachino cheese. A bottle of Val Policella is exactly suited to this kind of repast, and a glass of fine-champagne (De Luze) for yourself and of ruby-coloured Alkermes for the lady, if your wife accompanies you, makes a good ending. The maître-d'hôtel, who looks like a retired ambassador, will be interested in you directly he finds that you know how a man should breakfast."
The restaurant which comes next in order in popularity with visitors is the Bauer-Grunwald, in the Via Ventidue Marzo, which has a garden with seats in it; but this is a German house, and can scarcely claim to represent anything Venetian. The Capello Nero, in the Merceria, behind the Piazza of St. Mark, is thoroughly Venetian and unpretentious, and there you may obtain the real cookery of the town; and another such trattoria attached to an hotel is the Cavalletto, by the Ponte Cavalletto, close to the great square; but the Venetian cookery, it should be thoroughly understood, is not eaten in Parisian surroundings.
At the Florian Café, which in the summer keeps open all the night through, one gets the frothing Zabajone made so stiff that a spoon stands upright in it.
There are many birrerie in Venice, the Dreher being one frequented by the Italians.
The Zuppa di Peoci is a soup made from the little shell-fish called "peoci" in Venice, and appearing under other names at Spezzia and Naples, and so fond are the Venetians of it that they flavour their rice with sauce made from it and call it Riso coi peoci. Baccala, or salt-cod, and Calamai, little cuttle-fish or octopi, looking and tasting like fried strips of soft leather, are native dishes not to be recommended; but the Anguille di Comacchio, the great eels from Comacchio, grilled on the spit between bay leaves, or fried or stewed, are excellent. Another Venetian dish which I can strongly recommend is the Fegato alla Veneziana, calf liver cut into thin slices, fried with onions in butter, and flavoured with lemon juice. Stewed larks, with a pudding of Veronese flour, are satisfying, and a sausage from the neighbouring Treviso, which also gives its name to the Radici di Treviso, is much esteemed. The Pucca baruca is one of the big yellow pumpkins baked. The wines are, of course, those of the mainland, Conegliano from Treviso and Val Policella from Verona.
Bologna
"Bologna la grassa" does not belie its nick-name, and it is said that the matronly ladies, all over forty, who cook for the rotund priests, are the cordons bleus of Italy. The restaurant of the Hôtel Brun is the one where the passing Anglo-Saxon generally takes his meals and a chat with the proprietor, who is generally addressed as Frank, is entertaining, for he owns vineyards behind the town, which he is happy to show to any one interested in vine-culture, and he makes his wine after the French manner. The Hôtel d'Italie is more an Italian house, and the Stella d'Italia, in the Via Rizzoli, is the typical popular restaurant of the town. At the Albergo Roma, on the Via d'Azeglio, I have lunched on good food for a couple of francs.
The Coppaletti I have already referred to. The Perpadelle col Ragout are made of the same dough as the French nouilles, in narrow strips boiled and seasoned with minced meat and Parmesan cheese. Another variety of this Perpadelle alla Bolognese has minced ham as a seasoning. Then come the far-famed sausages, the great Codeghino, boiled and served with spinach or mashed potatoes; the large, ball-shaped Mortadella, which is sometimes eaten raw; and the stuffed foreleg of a pig, which is boiled and served with spinach and mashed potatoes and which is a dish the Bolognese "conveyed" from Verona.
The wines are San Giovese and Lambresco.