Meal as Special as Murano Glass

February 2, 2023February 3, 2023 by Woody

In Italy, in Venice, in a small shop in a labyrinth of narrow alleyways, my wife and I bought eight water glasses of hand-blown glass made on the nearby famous island of Murano. Each is of a different main color – midnight blue, sky blue, green, yellow, red, orange, white, black – with swirls and teardrops and other designs in contrasting colors.

They have one more striking characteristic: their shape looks like a paper cup that has been crushed in one’s hand, or stomped flat underfoot, then pushed out whole again with the wrinkles unsuccessfully smoothed out. This purposeful imperfection makes them perfectly beautiful.

These exquisite tumblers tumble to mind when I think about the final meal my wife and I had on our recent dream trip celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. At first appearance, the restaurant in Barcelona, the last stop of our two weeks abroad, looked like a smashed paper cup but in the end it proved to be like masterful Murano glasswork.

Lobster paella was not to be missed — but almost was.

As mentioned here a week ago, on the very first evening of our travels, at an outdoor table under the stars overlooking the Grand Canal in Venice, I had the best spaghetti of my life at a tiny trattoria named Carpaccio.

In the Gothic Quarter, in the historic centre of the old city of Barcelona, Lisa and I set out on foot in search of dinner with no recommendations or idea of where to eat. We had decided, as we often do on vacation, to let our dining destination be determined by serendipity – and, this night specifically, by having paella on the menu for we had not yet sampled this locally.

Aranega’s Restaurante was so small as to be called a mouse-hole-in-the wall. We did not find it so much as the proprietor found us by materializing out of nowhere directly in our path on the sidewalk and handing us two flat laminated menus. Politely, though unenthusiastically, we glanced at the menus, but unlike at many eateries here with English translations – and like Aranega’s sandwich chalkboard displaying a lengthy Menu del Dia – the offerings were in Spanish only. Sensing our language illiteracy, he disappeared through the doorway and quickly reappeared with an English version.

With our appetites rumbling, for we had been walking a long time looking for the ideal restaurant; and with trepidation, for this establishment looked to be only a step above fast food, we perused the new menu albeit with low expectations. As we did so, the owner again vanished inside.

While he was gone, Lisa and I both spotted it at the same time: lobster paella.

The owner returned carrying a two-top table and set it up on the sidewalk, for the evening was too pleasant to waste eating indoors, and without delay next brought out two chairs and gently guided us to sit down.

A waiter, an affable young man who we learned was the owner’s son, took our order; told us one serving would fill us both; and added that it would take half an hour to freshly prepare.

“We’re in no hurry,” we replied, ordered sangrias, and enjoyed people watching and reliving highlights from the past fortnight.

The lobster paella required closer to a full hour, and two sangrias each, before arriving; was served in a giant communal cast-iron bowl, steaming hot, with a full crustacean shell swimming in soupy rice; and was beyond worth the long wait.

Indeed, like Maria’s spaghetti at Carpaccio, it was as exquisite as Murano hand-blown glass. Together, the bookend meals were masterpiece ways to begin and end a masterpiece trip.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and

Bookend Meals to Fondly Remember

January 27, 2023January 27, 2023 by Woody

“Chocolate, s’il vous plaît,” I said, pointing at the dessert menu, at what I thought was ice cream, at crème glacée.“

You mean chocolat?”the waiter said, his tone mocking.

My wife and I were at a charming café in Nice, France, on a recent dream trip celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary, yet our waiter was anything but charming. To call him surly would be far too kind.

“Oui,” I said, trying my best to parrot his pronunciation, “Chocolat.”

“Chocolat,” he sneered again with emphasized inflection and a dismissive eye roll.

Cheers to a wonderful 40th anniversary trip…

My mind flashed back a few days, back to when we were in Olympia, Greece, and our tour guide, a lovely woman named Nicolette, taught me a less-than-lovely Greek word our bus driver had barked out in frustration at a driver who displeased him. I was tempted to repeat those two displeasing syllables now at our waiter, but instead bit my tongue until the chocolat ice cream could soothe it.

Happily, that rudeness and margherita pizza that tasted like it came frozen in a box, were the exception on our 12-day travels from Venice to Barcelona. From a delicious assortment of tapas al fresco while protected under a canopy beneath rainy skies to velvety gelato at a seaside table outdoors where it was impossible to tell which was forget-me-not bluer, the sky or the water, we had many meals to remember for the right reasons.

Two, however, stand out above the rest as all-time unforgettable meals. Remarkably, they were the very first and last dinners of our trip.

The lunch of tapas we enjoyed in Barcelona were simply amazing!

We arrived at our hotel in Venice after a long night, long day, and long evening of travel at nearly 9 o’clock and promptly went looking for a place to dine. Serendipitously, an Italian restaurantwas literally next door.

Carpaccio Trattoria is too small to be described as cozy, but we were too weary to look further. Without any wait, and with the temperature in the mid-70s, we were given a table for two on the waterfront patio with a front-row view of the scenic Grand Canal.

The ambiance could not have been lovelier with lapping water serving as soft music and an apricot-hued moon balanced on the steeple of the landmark Palladian Church directly across the waterway as if it were a basketball spinning on a Harlem Globetrotter’s index finger.

Maria, whose appearance was as pleasant as her manner, showed us to our table; took our orders; and served us as well. We learned over the course of the meal that she is also the owner, pasta chef, and bakes all of the desserts which she proudly noted she always samples. The latter was nearly impossible to believe for the dessert menu was not at all slim and yet Maria very much was – a positive testament to the walking lifestyle here.

Since boyhood, spaghetti has been my favorite meal and the gold standard has always been my mom’s. For the past 30 years, I have wistfully pined for her magical sauce and handmade pasta.

God bless Maria. Her tender-yet-firm pasta and simple sauce that was almost as sweet as chocolat – “The secret magic is the fresh local tomatoes,” she confided – was not the equal of my mom’s, impossibly it surpassed it. I wish you could have tasted it.

We passed on dessert, but Maria would have no such nonsense. Learning this was our anniversary eve, she brought a cannoli and a slice of triple-chocolate cake as her gifts to us. Both were heaven on a plate.

Next week: The second bookend meal to long remember.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Faces As Memorable As Places

November 21, 2022December 2, 2022 by Woody

Words fail me, and colossally so, in trying to describe seeing the Colosseum in Rome in person.

Since it is one of the iconic Seven Wonders of the World, here are seven adjectives to begin: spectacular, amazing, awe-inspiring, astonishing, breathtaking, magnificent, wondrous.

Meanwhile, seven full entries from a thesaurus cannot do justice to the La Sagrada Familia basilica in Barcelona. Designed by Antonio Gaudi, the towering cathedral is truly the most spectacular-amazing-awe-inspiring-astonishing-breathtaking-magnificent-wondrous building, outside and in, I have ever set eyes upon.

La Sangrada Familia from the outside…

To borrow Hollywood’s practice of pitching a new script by combining two known movies, La Sagrada Familia is Dr. Seuss’s imaginative drawings meet John Muir’s love of giant redwoods. Indeed, just as Muir believed nature was a church, Gaudi felt nature should be in a church and thus designed the interior marble columns to resemble a petrified forest of soaring trees.

As unforgettable as La Sangrada Familia and the Colosseum both are, two small scenes nearby will also long remain in my memory.

Leaving the Colosseum, my wife, who is half-Italian, and I squeezed onto a bench seat in the back of a hop-on hop-off bus. Lisa was next to the window and I was beside a young Italian boy, age 9 or 10, who was with his parents. Naturally, the boy was connected to his iPhone via earbuds.

Meanwhile, Lisa plugged the cord of her solo earbud into a console that provided sightseeing commentary in different languages. As she searched for English without success, the boy turned and said a number in Italian – cinque, I believe it was, which we translated to cinco in Spanish – and indeed channel five made Lisa flash a smile of thanks.

… and a breathtaking inside view.

My console, or perhaps my cheap disposable earbud provided by the tour, was broken as every channel came up empty. Content to view the beautiful city in silence, I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder and the boy offered me one of his two earbuds.

Instead of sightseeing commentary, I was greeted with music. Italian pop, I presume it was, but understanding the lyrics did not matter for the boy’s act of kindness required no translation. For the next 10 minutes or so, we bobbed heads in unison and had a wordless conversation as he pointed at various sights.

“Ciao,” the boy said when his family’s exit came.

“Grazie,” I replied, handing back the borrowed earbud.

A few days later in Barcelona, Lisa and I were enjoying a lunch of tapas and sangria at an outdoor café overlooking a tree-lined grand plaza. Fortunately, our table for two was under a canopy because out of the blue, literally from a blue sky, it began raining fairly hard.

A rainbow soon appeared, not in the sky but on the walkway across the plaza from where we sat. A young man, who I guessed to be in his late teens, was walking with an elderly woman, who I guessed to be his grandmother. She shuffled slowly, holding his arm for balance, and I imagined he was escorting her home.

When the unexpected showers arrived, the grandson quickly removed his long-sleeved flannel shirt and held it over his grandmother’s grey-haired bun and stooped shoulders and continued patiently walking at her unhurried pace despite getting soaked in his T-shirt. I wish you could have seen this love in the rain that was every bit as lovely as La Sagrada Familia was in sunshine the day before.

Once again, the magic of traveling was found as much in faces as in places.

Onward in next week’s column to the French Riviera…

Woody’s Holiday Ball Drive: You can still drop off new sports balls or have online orders shipped to: Jensen Design & Survey, 1672 Donlon St., Ventura CA 93003. And please be sure to email me at woodywriter@gmail.com about your gift so I can add your generosity to this year’s tally and thank you in an upcoming column.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Vacation Photos – Less Can Be More

October 6, 2022 by Woody

Third try was indeed the charm.

After twice having a dream vacation canceled by the coronavirus nightmare, my better-half, who is half-Italian, and I finally made it to the land where her family roots reach deep into the fertile soil. Specifically, we sailed fully around the thigh-high boot setting out at Venice, through the narrow Strait of Messina at the toe, up the western coast and over to Barcelona with nine port stops en route.

The starting and ending bookends proved to be our favorites, although perhaps this was partly because we spent extra nights in both and were thus able to explore them a little more fully than the daytime destinations.

The ancient Colosseum in Rome was definitely photograph worthy!

A cruise, in my view, is sort of like speed dating in that you learn who (or where) you want to get to know better. In this case, we didn’t ask Croatia and Albania for their phone numbers. Don’t get me wrong, the former’s Old Town Dubrovnik – with white marble streets and forts of stone so magnificent “Game of Thrones” filmed myriad scenes there – was memorable, yet an afternoon inside these historic walls was plenty. Similarly, a few hours sufficed at the ancient sites of the Olympics in Olympia, Greece, and the Pompeii ruins near Naples, Italy.

Our two ports in France – Villefranche-sur-Mer and Toulon – are both gorgeous coastal locales, but to be honest we much prefer Ventura’s similar charms so feel no strong gravitational pull to return. Rome and Florence, however, like Venice and Barcelona, already beckon us back for longer sojourns.

In the coming weeks, I will share here some snapshots-in-words of my favorite experiences from our two-week trip: from memorable people and meals to the canals of Venice to the Colosseum in Rome to the breathtaking La Sagrada Familia cathedral in Barcelona, and more.

Speaking of snapshots, my cell phone camera kept freezing with the command: “Out of Storage. Free Up Space.” Just my luck…

…good luck, that is.

In these old lands I was forced to go old-school. Instead of mindlessly snap-snap-snapping endless digital photos, I was forced to point-and-shoot judiciously. It was like going back in time and using a camera with film that comes in 12, 24 or 36 exposures. Instead of paying to have prints made, I had to spend time deleting files.

So it was I found myself taking in the sites, and sights, in their full grandeur through naked eyes instead of miniaturized on a pixel screen. Thus, I found myself absorbing the scenes and memorizing the moments before selectively choosing the very best ones to photograph.

In this reframed frame of mind, it saddened me to see so many others touring these goosebump-inducing historic places, even a museum filled with Picasso artwork, while largely squinting at their tiny cameras. They seemed more concerned with reliving these experiences in the future rather than living them in the present. One romantic couple we encountered seemed to be experiencing their entire gondola ride through the canals of Venice digitally instead of actually.

Conversely, instead of hundreds of photos, so many as to be overwhelming, I came home with only a few “rolls” of selectively snapped images to be developed at Fotomat, so to speak. This was a silver lining, as mentioned, for it seems to me that too many pictures is like not being able to see the forest for the trees. Indeed, the graceful stone columns in La Sagrada Familia are meant to invoke towering trees, a forest of them, something one might miss if looking through a camera lens.

To be continued next week…

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WOODY WOODBURN

Writer, "Streaker" & Speaker

Tag Archives: Barcelona

Meal as Special as Murano Glass

Bookend Meals to Fondly Remember

Faces As Memorable As Places

Vacation Photos – Less Can Be More