Our family of 4 was looking for a restaurant near our vacation apartment in the Dorsoduro district. My 7 year old saw the photo of the fried chicken on the prominent tourist menu outside of the place, and I knew we were in for it. The poor picky kid had put up with the *excellent* restaurants we had been visiting the last 10 days, so we thought we would humor her. What a mistake.
We chose to eat inside because it was chilly outside. The first thing I noticed when stepping inside was an underlying stench of sewer, and the proprietor unmasked. We should have turned around. But I felt a bit unnumbered and so we soldiered on. We ordered sparkling water and instead of a bottle of San Pelligrino (like we had received all the other times we dined out), we got 2 bottles of grocery store frizzante. We ordered our meal and a 1/2 liter of house red. In my experience, ordering a house wine in a restaurant in Italy yields a decent wine at a very competitive price. One sip and my parter asked me if we were drinking beet juice! It was juice. With maybe some wine. We flagged down the proprietor and asked him what his "house red" was, and he responded that it was a Cabernet. We Californians knew he was blowing smoke up our you-know-whats, and he did too. As soon as we called him out on it, he opened a bottle of Italian wine for us that was more presentable (still not at par of what we have had in regards to house wine, though).
My partner ordered a spaghetti with clams, I ordered a carbonara, one child ordered the Margherita, and the other child ordered the very exciting fried chicken. I will say my kids were happy with their food. My and my partner's pastas were made with dried noodles (think Barilla). My carbonara was uninspiring and the worst I've had in Italy (tbh I've been spoiled). The clams in my partner's pasta tasted old. It's only been an hour since we have finished our meal, so the jury is still out on how old the clams were.
The proprietor brought my children a strawberry-whipped treat and the 2 adults a limoncello, which was a nice gesture, but the increasingly overwhelming stench of sewer were driving us out of the restaurant at that point.
The kicker? The tourist menu at the front stated that the coperto was included in the food price. But guess what was on our bill? You guessed it. The coperto.
Lesson learned: don't give in to a 7 year old's dubious taste and continue to torture them with high quality Italian food. Because otherwise you end up at a place like this.
PS. Who is padding this guy's google page? 3.5 out of 5 is incredibly generous. read more