The Nomadic Mermaid: Bologna la Rossa

I endured the worst service in the world to have the best food in my life. Bologna is an awesome city to be in if you are a traveler like me. I am always looking for the cheap, local hangouts far away from the tourist areas. Bologna has a plethora of places like this. That is how I found myself in an off-the-main-strip trattoria where I nervously sat in fear of my life (ok, maybe not my life, but definitely my tortellini).

I walked in the door around 9pm on a Monday night with a table for "uno, solo." The frown on the host's face was priceless. It was like a scene from a movie. "Solo? Uno? Solo?" His voice increased every time he said a new word. I kept saying "si, si, uno." Then he switched to English, "No reservation? Sorry, I do not think we have room for you." Shocked, I said, "Gratzie" and turned on my heel to leave. All of a sudden, the host said, "Wait, wait, we might be able to make room for you." A small table toward the back of the restaurant was cleared away for me and the super gracious host (don't worry folks, the sarcasm is free) led me to my table where he proceeded to throw my utensils onto the table making a loud crashing noise on my plate.

I ordered the vino della casa complete with a roll of the eyes from the waiter. The couple at the table next to me was from Chicago and they eagerly made culinary suggestions, encouraging me that this was the best food in town. I found out that they were both lawyers with children my age, so naturally we bonded. Thank goodness I had them to keep me sane. Another half hour passed before my waiter decided to grace me with his presence again. "What are you eating?" he asked. In the middle of my order, he left my table and started speaking with customers at another table. My new friends from Chicago chimed in, "you have to be firm with them or you will never get to order anything." Ok, firm. I can totally do this and be rude. I put my best game face on and said in my best Italian that I would please like service and to order food. So I ordered spaghetti bolognese. The waiter had one more great suggestion to make, "So you want spaghetti with meat and no sauce? Or do you want sauce? Because you're not being very clear." I quickly corrected myself and with the biggest smile I could muster, I responded, "Ah, si, spaghetti alla bolognese con ragu, per favore. Grazie mille."

Needless to say the night did not end well for the restaurant. At the end of their meal, the couple from Chicago stormed out after paying for their meal shouting in half Italian and half English. She said, "I am telling my hotel that this place is pessimo!" The owner ran out after them shouting, "No per favore, signora." When I went to pay, just moments later, I thanked the host and the owner for the meal saying how good the food was. This did not crack a smile on anyone's face. As I was just about to hand the waiter his tip, he looked me straight in my face and said, "You Americans, always so strange." I decided to keep my four euros and bought myself a drink at a bar near the university just down the street. I laughed all the way down the street at the hilarious scene that was made in the restaurant. Only in Italy would anything like that ever happen.

Besides the food, the city has a lot to boast about. The university is the oldest in Europe making the city's culture very unique, it has two beautifully intact medieval towers, and its piazzas are among Italy's most impressive.

As for me, I have several reasons to go back to Bologna someday, but among the most important is my return to that trattoria (if they will let me in).

Next on the horizon is Venice!