Niente polpo

The word Italy is synonymous with delicious food. Even the most unassuming corner café offers mouthwatering pastas, meats, and cheeses. While visiting Rome, however, I wanted to experience one fabulously luxurious culinary experience.

Reservations were secured months in advance after thorough research. And as soon as I got my first peek at Al Ceppo, I knew that I would be dining in style. I silently expressed gratitude that I’d been able to force my husband to pack a dinner jacket. The staff was formally clad in tuxedo-style uniforms and the tables were dressed in pristine white table-clothes and elegant china and flatware. As a courteous host led us through the dining room, attempting to speak with us in broken-English, I couldn’t help but notice another detail. We had left behind the land of tourists and were now entering the special world of local Romans.

The occupants of the other tables were mostly priests, nuns, and various other clergymen. Additionally, the menu was written in Italian. Most of the restaurants thus far had provided menus in English. But not here. The staff also only spoke very-limited English. Since neither of us spoke Italian, this was the recipe for either a complete disaster or a memorable adventure.

Trying to pull off sophistication when you can’t understand anything on the menu is quite challenging. My husband and I made eye-contact over our open menus several times and tried not to laugh. I was determined, however, to try to do our country justice. I didn’t want to be stereotyped as an uncouth American tourist. I wanted to portray an image of culture and class. I wanted to belong in this elegant, romantic world of Italian beauty.

Now I realize that was probably an impossibility. I knew that Italian people dined on several courses, but I couldn’t discern the categories on the menu or remember what order the dishes came in. I seemed to remember that pasta came first, then meat, then the salad, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even certain what the words for chicken and beef were. Not wanting to mistakenly order horse or veal, I decided to try to find something familiar. I scanned the menu and breathed a sigh of relief. I recognized the word lasagna. Lasagna would be a safe bet.

However, seeing the waiter’s confused face as I ordered only lasagna had me frantically searching for something else. Insalate stood out! Yes, salad…I pointed to the words. What could possibly go wrong with salad?

My husband also jumped on the bandwagon and added that he would have the same salad. Everyone on the staff was so gracious about trying to communicate with us, and they seemed so concerned about pleasing us. So when our salads were placed in front of us, filled with scads of small octopi (complete with miniscule suction cups) there was nothing I could do, but pleasantly nod and smile.

Unsettling pictures flashed in my mind, like a scene from an old B horror movie about an attack octopus. I knew I couldn’t eat them. There was no way I could stomach it, so I pushed them aside and focused on the other food on the plate. An image of an irate Italian chef storming from the kitchen to yell at me formed in my mind. My husband also wasn’t thrilled by these underwater delicacies, but is blessed with a stronger constitution. Lucky for me!

I would gladly pay a thousand dollars today if I could watch a video of our dining experience. It would feature a red-headed American woman trying to put on airs while slyly peeking at the staff. When she finds no one looking, she tosses an octopus across the candlelit table onto her husband’s plate. Her husband reluctantly chews on a double portion of the small tentacled-creatures.

Luckily I don’t think our secret was discovered. The waiter looked happy (and a little relieved) to see that my plate was empty. When a familiar-looking lasagna and tiramisu were served, I was more than pleased.

Years later I am largely plant-based, but my husband and I still love to eat Italian food and use the wine knowledge gained in Tuscany. Chianti, especially those with the black rooster seal, entered our lives during our travels. Today, it makes special appearances during evening meals.

This is a sample of how we relive our culinary experience today – sans octopus.

Antipasti (or something to chew on before the meal):

Bruschetta: This easy antipasti dish requires a delicious ciabotta or baguette. Slice and brush with olive oil. Stir together chopped tomatoes, basil, crushed garlic, salt, black pepper, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Grill the bread for about 10 minutes, turning halfway. Then top with the tomato mixture, adding more salt, pepper, and oil if desired.

Primi (appetizer, usually pasta or risotto):

Options here are limitless, especially with the delicious plant-based cheeses and meats available. We grow our own basil, so pasta with pesto sauce is often on our menu.

Cook pasta of choice according to the box (I love to use chickpea pasta, such as Banza or Chickapea). In a food processor, blend together about 3 cups of fresh basil, a clove or two of garlic, 1/4 cup of olive oil, 1/3 cup of pine nuts, salt, and black pepper. Mix with the pasta and sprinkle with nutritional yeast.

Secondi (main course, usually the meat or fish dish, and vegetables)

As I still eat fish once in a while, this may make my main course along with simple, roasted vegetables such as asparagus. However, there are also great plant-based options such as eggplant dishes and seitan steaks with mushroom sauce.

Dolci (sweets and coffee) with optional digestive such as grappa or limoncello

My husband’s favorite dessert in all the world is tiramisu, so I often will serve that and save myself the calories. However, if I’m in the mood for dessert, my go-to is Nico’s recipe for vegan panna cotta.

Of course, a major take-away of eating Italian style is to savor it. Enjoy each delectable bite as you relish the moments talking and laughing with your loved ones - even if it's about an octopus. It's all part of the experience.