Thursday, September 18, 2008

Trattoria der Pallaro (that's what it says)

If you've ever been to a restaurant with me, you'll know I'm about as decisive in my menu choices as this picture is in focus. You also might recall me casually asking you what you were ordering, then whining, "Oh, that's what I was going to get" (I wasn't), and then ordering it before you. I don't know what it is, but I'm really not good at ordering food.

So you can imagine my relief at the news that this trattoria in Rome didn't have a menu. They didn't ask what we wanted, they didn't even tell us what we were going to get, they just brought out course after course until we were full. It was a family-run place, and the food was uncomplicated and delicious: lots of olives, parma ham, lentils, tomatoes with olive oil and rock salt, home-made potato chips, pasta, nectarines, custard tart - this list would go on if I could remember.

Why can't all restaurants be like this? I can't remember a meal I had out that involved so little anxiety.


Helen | Pepperina Press said...

It's a Lewis thing – we tend to agonise over every meal choice as if it's our last.

I'm a rapid-fire orderer these days, but I only reformed after a good couple of years of eye-rolling and criticism from Nathan. He's helpful like that.

I'll send him over to cure you, if you like. Stock up on oranges and nachos.

abbie said...

If your like me and have a non flavour eating husband (we are working on that though) then eating out becomes a choice of maybe one. One day will go to Hogsbreath and order something other steak with avacado and steak with calamari..... maybe