Yesterday we made plans! We would have breakfast, then head to two different markets, one of which we’ve never visited. We would go for gelato at one of our favourite spots near the Mercato Centrale, then finally stop for one or more drinks at La Menagère. None of that happened.
We pretty much screwed ourselves out of our plans the instant we got up. We woke up at 13:30. The rest was glorious and clearly needed, but most markets close at 14:00. No problem, we thought, we’ll cut all markets but the central market from our list, and we’ll be able to enjoy the other places in our plan.
First stop Obicà, a mozzarella bar, for what we think of as the best breakfast you can grab in the city, but what most people would call a small lunch. With our standard order: mozzarella buffalo, burrata, stracciatella (essentially the inside of a burrata served in a bowl), grilled vegetables (I grab most of the eggplant; Karine takes most of the other vegetables), and focaccia. Add some coffee to our order, and 90 minutes later, we’re out of breakfast.
We first head to the Apple Store. Our day being already forfeit and, in our mind, nothing else in our plan being on a strict schedule, we stop to replace Karine’s watch bracelet who was due to be replaced before we left but we simply handn’t gotten around to. We also grabbed a spare battery for my iPhone since using Google Maps regularly to orient ourselves and plan our route tends to drain the battery a little bit more than usual, leaving me with less than 5% battery at diner time.
With the Apple Store out of the way, next stop on our plan: the central market. That’s where our plan, again, failed contact reality. We made it to the market, only to find the doors closed and refusing to open. Initially, we thought, no worries, the doors to the upper floor are open, so we’ll go to the upper floor where all the restaurants are, then make our way down to the shops from inside. We had, after all, the faint hope that it was just that it was only that specific entrance that was closed. No luck. Restaurants were open, but access to the stands was not. We debated stopping for a cannoli (there are a couple of good stands for that on the second floor of the market), but decided to skip more food so soon after breakfast.
With nowhere to go, we figured our next stop should be some day drinking. Next stop: La Menagère for a delicious Aperol Spritz topped with a fruit salad. And, again, our plan failed to survive its contact with reality. La Menagère is closed. Of course, had I paid any attention to their Google Maps listing I would have known that. In red text on the listing, it does say “Temporarily Closed”. While walking in front of it and seeing the inside pretty much gutted, I’m guessing that it’s temporarily closed the same way you get a temporary filling at the dentist. You’re not going to grow another tooth; you’ll get the permanent filling as soon as the dentist has drilled some more.
Anyway, not feeling like gelato again so soon after breakfast, we made our way to an espresso bar that serves “hipster coffee” (micro-roasted, single-origin coffee). We walked by it yesterday on our way to Plazza Santo Spirito (another favourite of ours for day drinking). Ditta Artigianale caffè delivered on its hipster coffee vibe and delicious coffee. Karine got a Colombian single-origin café (North Americans should read single-shot espresso, as that’s what a caffé is in Italy) and I went for the Ethiopian. Both had terrific flavour.
With our plans lying in shambles and a couple of hours to kill before our dinner reservation, we headed uphill to the Piazzale Michelangelo, more to enjoy the walk than for the view. We had, after all, seen the city from the Piazzale before, and we doubted very much it would be any different in a town that hasn’t changed much in hundreds of years. Still, the walk under the warm Tuscan sun was great, the view just as lovely as before. With the sun going down and laundry to be done, we headed to our apartment.
Travelling with a carry-on backpack comes with many benefits: never losing your luggage, staying light on your feet, being able to climb stairs and navigate cobbled streets, and being the most obvious. A lesser-known benefit is the chance to discover how washing machines work. At every apartment we visit, we learn a new set of Italian words and symbols, since all machines describe their operations differently. The chase of the “on” button itself is an adventure not to be missed. Today's machine had an atypical procedure to turn it on. We had to plug it in. Karine found that the power cord was not plugged into anything, and the exact length (in millimetres) to reach the outlet above the sink, by my great relief, as I didn't feel like falling back on the tried-and-true alternative: handwashing everything.
Dinner kept with our tradition of having Bisteca every night when in Florence. Trattoria Antico Fattore is steeped in tradition. The menu has all the classic hallmarks of a Florentine restaurant and not much else. The experience offered was enhanced by our waiter’s ever-so-charming attitude and his unrelenting enjoyment of conversing with patrons. The bistecca was beautifully executed: red throughout but warm and tender. Side dishes (contorni) were a little lacking in variety but well executed nonetheless. A good meal with good wine, to end a day of failed plans, makes up for the whole day.
Our adventures confirmed, at least, that Karine’s Italian is highly specialized. She can converse about anything food- and order-related. We’ll put it to the test tomorrow with multiple food stops before hitting the Galleria degli Uffizi, and the day of drinking and dinner that will follow.