Good Morning, Maranello

My breakfast at the Planet Hotel.




She even made me a real Italian cappuccino with Caffe Molinari.

Morning Over Ferrari

The sun starts to rise over Ferrari.

I'm rousted from bed by the light coming through the window. It's still mostly dark but I can see the sun struggling to rise and peer outside to see the light fading in over the Ferrari factory across the street.

It's good to be in Maranello.

Ristorante Cavallino

Breads - quite hard and crusty. Guess they like them that way.

Located across the street from the Ferrari Main Gate, Cavallino sports the prancing horse and was reputedly Enzo Ferrari's favorite restaurant. As such, it has become a "must visit" on any Tifosi tour of Maranello.

The guys on FerrariChat recommended Montana, a restaurant down the street, but when I arrived they were full and could not accommodate me. They recommended Cavallino.


Savory Pastries - good, tomato and some with tuna.

Cavallino is a nice enough place. After I arrived, it quickly filled with locals, so they must be doing something good. I ordered simply enough, with the thought of doing the multi-course Italian thing again. To no avail. The courses were just too much.

Sadly, Cavallino was just okay. The flavors weren't that exciting, nor did they "pop". Everything was pretty basic and they could really use a little seasoning to help the flavors. The bolognese was a bit thin and the tagliatelle was so al dente some of it crunched. Not good.

Next time, a reservation at Montana will be a must!



Red wine and Acqua Panna.




Tagliatelle Bolognese - okay.




Pork Chop in Pastry Dough. Again, just okay. Needed salt.




Inside the pork chop.




Ristorante Cavallino

Journey to Maranello

Morning room service breakfast at the Hotel dei Vicari.


The little 500 is packed up and ready to go!



A quick lunch in front of the Mughello main gate.


Hunting for clean clothes at the Barberino Outlet Mall.



Italian McDonald's - the bread is more chewy.



At the Fiorano Main Gate - denied entry.



The Galleria Ferrari.

San Barnaba

The Ristorante San Barnaba.

As she was sending me off from La Marzocco, Mary passed on some advice about a place to eat: "Just up the street from the hotel and right before the city wall is a restaurant called San Barnaba - great people and great food. Go there."

So, in spite of the cold and my lack of clothing, I made the walk to San Barnaba - at 6:30pm. Which meant that the restaurant was closed. Darn it, I had forgotten that restaurants in Europe don't open until 7pm or later. Even though I don't like to eat as early as Americans, I always seem to end up in this predicament every time I am in Europe.


My table setting.

After walking around in the cold for forty minutes, I entered the restaurant. I was the first person there. The chef looked at me strangely, like "what's he doing here so early. We just opened." Communicating in as best Italian as I could, I motioned that I would like to eat and they sat me straightaway.

Right off the bat is a glass of champagne. Hmmm, I like this place. Then some bread and then more drinks. Still water and red wine, please.

The very cute girl came up to care for me. Wish I could actually speak Italian. I ordered the Flan and then she offered the Papardelle special. I agreed.


The dining room.

Here's the thing about Italian food. I've had a lot of it over the years, but I still feel that I don't know what truly good Italian food is all about. I'm hoping that this trip can shed some light on the subject. Another aspect I've heard about traditional Italian meals are the courses: anti-pasti, then a pasta course, then a meat course and then dessert. Honestly, it sounds like a lot of food, but I'm going to give it a go.

At first, I decide to hold off on the meat course since the papardelle special has meat, then after thinking about how the meat in this region is supposed to be some of the best in Italy, I decide to order the steak. The girl looks at me like I'm crazy, confirms and goes off to tell the chef.


Champagne, mille grazie.

I can hear them in the kitchen. The chef confirming with the girl that I definitely want the third course. I figure: what the hell. Game on.

The flan is crazy good. Pecorino and gorgonzola cheese in some sort of soft, spongy textured flan. Delicious and perfectly portioned.


Flan di Verdure in crema al pecorino e gorgonzola.

When the papardelle special arrives, I note that it's just the right size. Not huge like in America and not too small. I taste it. Again, this is delicious. Perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned and the pasta is perfectly al dente. I just want to scarf it down.

As I reach the halfway point of the papardelle, I start to feel it. That feeling of being just right - just full enough. I know that if I continue and polish everything off this plate, I will be Full. And if I eat that steak, I'm going to be ill.


Inside the Flan.

Suddenly, this has become a marathon. I must pull back from the papardelle if I'm going to survive the next round. But I can't. The pasta is too good. I must have more. I end up finishing the pasta while leaving some of the stewed meat and await the next course.

A few minutes later, my girl is back. She's come back to confirm if I really want the steak still. Wait, I don't understand. Turns out the chef thought that I might have ordered too much and chose not to prepare the steak, waiting until I was finished the papardelle and could better gauge if I really wanted the next course.


And some cheese.

Thank God for this man and his foresight. I immediately thanked her and canceled the steak because I couldn't eat anymore!

In the end, the food was delicious. I loved it. The service was great and they were very attentive and took my hacked Italian and penchant for English in good stride. The next time I visit Scarperia I will be eating here again.


The Special: Papardelle alla Cinghiale.


Ristorante San Barnaba
Viale Kennedy, 15
50038 Scarperia, Firenze, Italia
055-8430384

Scarperia

The main drag through Scarperia.

Mary has arranged a room at the Hotel dei Vicari here in the little town of Scarperia. It's an old walled city, right next to the Mughello raceway. After checking into the room, I'm hungry and go searching for the restaurant Mary recommended here. Along the way, I find some apples, some bread and some supplies for my Italian Journey.

Scarperia is also known for its handmade knives. Some of them are quite exquisite and probably come at a handsome price. I looked but did not inquire. Still saving up for the Ferrari to drive Mughello...



Electronic condom machine - ah, the Italians...!





The Church.





Cremino del Mughello - tasty.





I watched this butcher work and bought some prosciutto from him. He's amazing and thoroughly loves what he does. I wish we had a shop like this at home.





The Scarperia Vicari.

La Mecca-zocco

The machine that started it all.

Quite some time ago, someone asked me what I thought of espresso in Italy. Is it better than America? Is it really "the best"?

Truth is, I had never been to Italy. Never tasted "real" Italian espresso. So I had no idea what the difference, if any, that existed. But I figured that someday I would end up in Italy and find out.


The Boiler Room.

So when the opportunity came up to travel to Africa, I decided to tack on a couple of days in Europe to see what the fuss was all about. Certainly, the coffee in France is terrible, maybe it would be better in the land where espresso originated: Italia.

Which is how I found myself zooming north along the A1 Autostrade in an attempt to find a little town called Burgo di San Lorenzo. I was making the journey to my own espresso mecca: La Marzocco.


Insulated Strada boilers.

Those who know me in the coffee business know that I'm very hardcore about La Marzocco espresso machines. I really won't have any other. Yes, there are lots of great machines made by great people out there, but to me, the La Marzocco is the Ferrari of espresso machines. Porsche and Lamborghini make great autos, but they will never steal that luster (yes, I mean as in "lust", it's not a typo) for La Marzocco.

Before leaving the States, I made a call to Kent Bakke about visiting. Turns out he wouldn't be in Florence during my trip but that Mary would take care of my needs. The plan was to arrive in Florence and make the drive to countryside, arriving at La Marozocco by 2pm. With all the problems in flights and baggage, I didn't get to the factory until 4pm and it was getting dark.


Top Secret stuff with the first production Strada EP.


Over a year ago, La Marzocco built a new facility that's much larger and nicer than the original - or so they say. The main entrance features an old coffee roaster and some vintage equipment from the original factory. Upstairs is the museum slash coffee bar, along with offices, training center, conference room and classroom.

Downstairs is where the fun happens: manufacturing. Over fifty people work here at La Marzocco where they produce a few thousand machines a year. Looking around it really is La Marzocco mecca. Machines of every model and size are everywhere. It's a spare parts orgasm. I'd like to pick up supplies but really I'm a bit overwhelmed.


Mary Diamond and the GS3 production line.


They've just started the production of the first ten Strada EP machines and we bump into Roberto who's trying to fix a problem with Strada EP Number One. I'd tell you what the problem was but I've been placed in the Cone Of Silence about what I saw with the new Strada but I did manage a photo to show you (it's been redacted due to WikiLeaks).

Sadly, my visit to La Marzocco was limited. My flights were late, I arrived late, it's Friday and of course, everyone wants to go home for the weekend, but I did get to see Piero Bambi for a moment or two. It was a short visit but a good one and I look forward to returning on another trip.



Ah, La Marzocco Heaven.





Seattle mural on the conference room wall.





Custom GS3 machines.





A custom painted FB80.





The ubiquitous plastic La Marzocco tamper, in stainless steel.





The bar with custom brass cased FB80, Swift grinder and new Volcano grinder.





From the front.





The Conference Room

Fiat 500

The Fiat 500 - with 11,000 kilometers.

I rent cars pretty regularly throughout the year and I like to try as many different vehicles as I can. The nice thing about European rentals is that they have manual transmissions - meaning that I can get my driving chops even though I'm stuck in America where everything is automatic.

The Fiat 500 was an interesting choice. It's a small car. Very small. Quite small. The fit is tight and I have to adjust my balls to get comfortable. But the steering wheel and shifter are placed just right and the shift pedal and left foot rest are adjacent making the transition super smooth.


The dash - functional, compact and missing cruise control.

On initial review, the car is peppy and the short wheelbase makes it quite nimble. The downsides are the slightly cramped interior and the wide B-pillars, which obstruct your view but the car is so short that it's really not that much of an issue. The area that you cannot see behind the B-pillars are actually observable in the mirrors.

But there's still more driving to be done before I know if I really like this car, but so far, so good. Now if it only came with GPS...



A Windows USB port?





Cruising north along the A1 Autodstrade.





Arrival: Burgo di San Lorenzo.

Lament To A Bag

The receipt for the bag that was.

Statistically speaking, it had to happen.

I hear all the time of the horror stories of airlines losing passengers luggage. With millions of bags in the system at any one time, it's an inevitability.

And after twenty years in the not-so-very-friendly skies, my bag was lost. Can't remember if this really was the first time, but it definitely hasn't happened in a very long time if it wasn't.

The odd thing is that both of my checked baggage started in Entebbe and only one made it to Florence. How they were separated along the way is a mystery.

They're going to find it and deliver it to me. Hope it's not too long because the bag that's not here is the bag with all my clothes!