Footsteps in Time (Part II)

Piazza di Signoria, Florence
The Rape of the Sabines

     Footsteps in Time (Part II)

The earlier “Footsteps in Time (Part I)” continues here with Part II.

There comes a time when Florentine artifacts, architecture, and art must give way to gastronomy.  Specifically, to that epitome of Tuscan cuisine, Bistecca alla Fiorentina.  As its name infers, this steak is linked to Florence, having originated in a green valley nestled just to its south.  

This delicacy comes from Italian Chianina cattle bred long before the Romans by the Etruscans in the Valdichiana (Chiana Valley).  When fully grown, these massive bulls stand an astounding six feet tall at the shoulder and weigh more than 3,000 pounds.^[2]  Their utility as draft animals has long since been outsourced to tractors.  Today, they are renowned for their tasty meat — seasoned with local spices and grilled over red-hot coals until crusty on the outside while remaining juicy on the inside.  Typically served sliced on a wooden board, these thick and hefty steaks are neither inexpensive nor, like the weight of these bulls, nowhere on the skimpy side.  One serving would easily feed two hungry carnivores like us who have never consumed such exotic steak.  Here was our chance. 

In a mixture of fact and legend, the term Bistecca

A Side of Chianina Beef Waiting to
Be Cut into Steaks

alla Fiorentina was first coined by English visitors:

“The story goes that sometime in the 16th century a group of English aristocrats were attending the annual Night of San Lorenzo feast in Florence, where huge quarters of beef roasted over rows of braziers surrounding the Church of San Lorenzo.” ^[1]

Note: About this time, Michelangelo, contracted to finish the San Lorenzo façade, was pulled from the job in 1534 when he departed for Rome to paint The Last Judgement in the Sistine Chapel for Pope Paul III - its plain brick front remains unfinished to this day. 

“They joined the crowded tables to relish the delicious meat and soon begged for more by shouting “Beefsteak! Beefsteak!” The Florentines adopted the word as Bistecca, which is how Tuscany’s most famous dish is still known.” ^[1]

Over the course of our wanderings from random menu postings outside restaurants, we found they ranged in price from €40-50.  Expensive, but this must be tempered with the realization that this, after all, was

All'Antico Ristoro di'Cambi

Florence.  Instead of being measured in inches, Tuscans measure their steak in “fingers,” with a proper Bistecca alla Fiorentina all of 3-4 fingers thick.  Finger measurement is a carryover from measuring pours of liquor with ‘one finger’ being about a shot’s worth.  Three of my sausage-thick fingers placed horizontally alongside the bottom of a glass would fill it to a height of roughly three ounces or two shots.  I recall my dad referring to a finger measurement as a cequette (Italian sp?).  Being denser, three fingers of this steak weighed about a kilo or 2.2 pounds.  To this point, the most remarkable steak I’d ever enjoyed was a slab of beef served in a specialty steak restaurant onboard a cruise to Alaska.  I had no idea of its finger thickness, but it was advertised as a 2-pound porterhouse called a ‘Platinum Cut.’  Although I’d share the bistecca with Maria Elena, I felt prepared. 

Without a reservation, we were lucky to get

The Inviting Interior of All'Antico Ristoto di'Cambi

into the popular All’Antico Ristoro di’Cambi for dinner.  Situated in the working-class San Frediano neighborhood, it is considered one of the best establishments for this specialty.  Much of what’s on offer is on immediate display: massive yet uncut Bistecche alla Fiorentina overflowed a kitchen butcherblock (I peeked); dozens of prosciutti dangled from brick barrel vaulted ceilings handy for the next call for an appetizer; while lining the bar, flasks of ruby red Chianti wrapped in straw harkened back to the Cambi’s beginning as a wine bar. 

It had been a hot day, and the evening followed suit.  Thankfully, we were shown to a shady table outside, bordered by hedges and trees, a seating area created in the wake of COVID.  A bistecca was in our sights.  Regrettably, while

Cooler Ourside Seating at di'Cambi

there were plenty on hand, it didn’t happen, and this is why.

Unfortunately, in our deliberations over the menu, we lost sight of our goal: to enjoy that classic Florentine staple we’d heard so much about.  While I prefer my steak cooked to medium doneness, Mare enjoys her steak rare (al sangue).  In her favor, we learned that bloody rare was how these steaks are classically served.  This classic marbled steak, think New York strip steak to one side of the bone and a filet mignon on the other, is vietato (forbidden) to be altered.  Taken together, it meant one huge steak, very rare.  And here, misguided me thought we could simply order individual one-pound steaks and have them cooked to our individual liking.  It was not a significant loss because it merely meant the steak we craved would be consumed by someone else.  Yet I quickly felt guilty for losing the opportunity that was briefly within a fork’s reach. 

I hadn’t thought it through.  If I had, there would have been some form of compromise.  Quick thinking may have resulted in some accommodation and allowed the two meat eaters among us to enjoy something not quite in an official Florentine cookbook … not too rare and on the rarer side of medium.  It may also have satisfied the chef, who was likely accustomed to the sangue routine.  If he’d counted to ten and spun around just once, my guess, it would have been perfect for me and to Mare’s liking as well.  It was certainly worthy of a try, yet I hadn’t thought of it.  And if that had failed, I should have compromised and gone with the standard presentation.  The rush of the evening, the crowd, the patience of our waitress, and my attempt at a drawn-out explanation in English all may have played a role in our decision to pass on this Tuscan specialty.

There are refrains about buyer’s remorse following a purchase.  There ought to be an equivalent for the pangs of guilt we feel when we decline to make a decision.  What sometimes follows is the fear that we have lost out on something.  Sadly, we find ourselves continuing to monitor what we passed on to bolster confidence in our earlier, unspoken failure to decide, itself a decision.  All is not lost, however, because thankfully, as part of my redemption, there is always the opportunity to return to Florence for another try at getting it right.  Next time, I’ll try ‘medium rare’; if that is out of the

The Approach of Sunset from
Piazzale Michelangelo

question, I’ll follow tradition and go ‘rare’.  I have no recollection of what we ordered that evening.  In its stead remains the nagging memory of a phantom bistecca.  It was apparent I’d need cultural therapy before I’d appreciate the therapeutic charm of Bistecche alla Fiorentina.  “When in Rome,” the adage goes, “do as the Romans do.”  I’m sure it carries over to Florence as well.

We did make time to enjoy the spectacular view of Florence from Piazzale Michelangelo overlooking the city.  You can get there on foot, but we cheated and opted for an Uber.  Skirting wide around the city allowed us an opportunity to gawk at the beautiful estates along tree-lined Viale Galileo and the Bobolino Gardens we might otherwise have never seen.  We put off walking until our return, much of which was

Michelangelo's Bacchus

appreciatively downhill along the river.

We also visited the Museo National del Bargello, where among its must-see priceless works, we saw Michelangelo’s Bacchus and Donatello’s bronze David, nude but for a hat. Interestingly, Michelangelo’s Bacchus patron, Cardinal Raffaele Riario, refused to accept the piece, deeming the pagan god, also nude with his tipsy, staggering body leaning backward with rolling eyes, as sinful and a symbol of sexual desire.[4]  In the politically charged atmosphere following the death of Pope Alexander VI’s son, the pope in his grief proposed reforms in the College of Cardinals to prevent cardinals from going to pagan theater.  Cardinal Riario’s involvement in theater and commissioning of the Bacchus was seen as inappropriate and the real reason for its rejection.^[5]  Instead, banker Jacopo Galli bought the statue and placed it in his garden collection along with other real antiquities. 

It was lunchtime when we passed through the Piazza di San Firenze.  Our appetites swelled as fellow tourists, some seated on church steps, others walking toward us, busily devoured massive paninis.  This headwind of sandwiches originated somewhere farther along in front of us.  Each sandwich was sheathed in a distinctive red striped paper clearly imprinted with All' Antico Vinaio.  Somewhat akin to a Hansel and Gretel adventure, we followed the red wrapper trail along Via dei Leoni, drooling over glimpses of pecorino cheese and prosciutto crudo

It Was Worth the Wait

pressed between slabs of local schiacciata flatbread slathered with homemade creamy spreads of truffles or artichokes.  If following the trail of wraps doesn’t get you to All' Antico Vinaio, the scent may.  You won’t mind the snaking queue because the payoff will more than compensate for any wait.  With four storefronts on opposite sides of Via dei Neri (left off of Via dei Leoni), our wait was short.  While Florence’s museums are a banquet for the mind, All' Antico Vinaio is Florence’s answer for street-side food to nourish the body. 

Florence is not all about museums, churches, and historic piazze.  The Florence Market qualifies as alandmark tour unto itself, free of charge.  This two-level iron-and-glass structure is actually two separate markets. 

 The indoor segment hosts the city's largest food market.  Known as the Mercato Centrale, it is home to unimaginable food.^[3]  Its outdoor counterpart, which has grown up on the surrounding streets, is home to vendors specializing in leather items (bags, belts, wallets, and jackets), pottery, stationery, clothing, and souvenirs.  Over our time in Florence, we’ve enjoyed many hours there, especially during our most recent visit.  

I was tempted to buy a leather briefcase while there.  It would have been “a nice to have,” but the days of needing one are long past.  I seriously considered a leather fanny pack that slings diagonally across your chest instead of your waist for

Outside the Mercato Centrale

better security.  My flimsy excuse for not purchasing one was Maria Elena's dislike of fanny packs.  Instead, I bought a cat inside a small, clear plastic box, which the Japanese call a maneki-neko (beckoning cat).  Powered by a solar cell located behind the cat, it waves a paw back and forth to bring me good luck and fortune.  It’s just what I needed without the bother of a cat litter box or odorous cat food.  I now await my good fortune as my feline friend, with its steady wave, apprises me daily of just how hard it is trying.

This old haunt was familiar to us, but with time, as with everything, it too had changed.  The ground floor of the massive Centrale warehouse remained close to what we recalled.  Looking for that special

My Feline Friend 'Neko'

ingredient?  Although not polite to point, how about the entire head of a pig for some memorable affair when simple bacon won’t do?  Need some webby trippa (cow stomach) absent from your local deli or some popular bite-sized morsels of cervella fritte (fried beef brain)?  You’ll find these along with many common, everyday food items here among butchers, fishmongers, fruit and vegetable vendors, in addition to small specialty shops selling everything from saffron to pignoli nuts.  While not a copy of the Roman Forum marketplace in nearby Piazza della Repubblica, it is a showplace of Italian culinary tradition dating back in time not just from Florence but from across Italy,

There were a couple of surprises inside.  One was locating our favorite panini stall.  It took a while to get oriented, but it was right where we’d left it.  All that had changed were the proprietors, now much younger, but everyone seems to be nowadays.  A far greater

surprise was the second level of the Mercato.  Thankfully, we thought of going upstairs.  Its former maze of stalls selling flowers and spices is gone.  Instead, this remodeled 32,000-square-foot area is its own version of a modern Risanamento. ^[3]

Each section is dedicated to a different Italian specialty, such as cheese, wine, pasta, or baked goods.  There is even a cooking school to learn how to make traditional Italian dishes and a store specializing in cookbooks.  Whatever you find in the Mercato, your choices are to make it, immediately enjoy it, or, as they refer to what we call takeout, ‘takeaway.’

As luck would have it (was my cat working?), we discovered a store, Fiorentina, on the second floor of the San Lorenzo Market, selling everything needed to show pride in Florence’s soccer team.  We also met the team in action via large-screen TV monitors broadcasting a championship game throughout the massive room. 

The Market's Cooking School

Nothing like 500 seats, not counting standers, filled with a rowdy group of vocal Italian soccer fans.^[1]  Sadly, to the dismay of this heady crowd, Inter Milan won the match 2–1 for their second consecutive Coppa Italia championship title.  Florence could have used the help of my cat.

During the game, I discovered a new drink.  Did I mention there were also bars upstairs in the Mercato?  Mine wasn’t a ubiquitous Peroni, a Sardinian Ichnusa, or a Moretti ‘man in the green hat’ labeled beer, but of all things, a British Shandy.  I watched a bartender make this refreshing concoction for me: a 50/50 ratio of lemon-lime soda and beer.  As part of any Florentine experience, include the San Lorenzo Market.  While you are there, go ahead and try a Shandy.

Following a seven-mile trek on our final day in Florence, it was time to head back to the Santa Maria Novella Train Station, where, I’m guessing, people

In Our Memories
"We'll Always Have Florence"

outnumbered chairs hundreds to one.  Intrepid travelers by this point, we patiently bided our time across the street in, of all places, an air-conditioned McDonalds.  We held off looking for somewhere to sit in the terminal until we plunked down in our assigned seats and quickly dozed off to the charisma of memories: Christina’s words, countless city squares, a historic bridge, museums, incredible food, and one rowdy soccer match.  We should all be so lucky (go maneki-neko).

From That Rogue Tourist,
Paolo

 

[1] America Domani, https://americadomani.com/where-to-enjoy-authentic-bistecca-alla-fiorentina/

[2] Mtuccis, https://www.mtuccis.com/lagazzetta/2020/8/21/chianina-beef

[3] Market Day at San Lorenzo, https://www.visitflorence.com/what-to-do-in-florence/shopping/san-lorenzo-central-market.html

[4] Michelangelo: Painter, Sculptor, Architect, Hibbard, Howard (1978), New York: Vendome Press.

[5] Commissioning of the Bacchus, https://michelangelo.ace.fordham.edu/exhibits/show/bacchus/bacchus4