The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
Coming Home to Montepulciano
Nothing like a little adventure to get the trip off to a good start! We had two separate tickets today. the first one on
Alaska Airlines from Seattle to Chicago, the second on KLM from Chicago to Florence via Amsterdam. Because they were
separate tickets, We couldn't check a bag all the way through, so we'd have to pick up our checked bag in Chicago, change
terminals and re-check it with KLM. A bit inconvenient, but we had two hours to do it so no big thing ... right?
The first clue that we might be in trouble was after everyone on the Chicago flight was boarded and settled in, they
announced that we were still waiting for the pilots. Their inbound flight was late but they had just landed and would be
here momentarily. Of course I'm watching the clock and calculating. Our transfer window was getting smaller, but it looked
like we'd still be OK time-wise. As the clock kept ticking, my level of confidence was eroding quickly.
The pilots finally arrived and then we sat for another half-hour (fog delay) before we took off. So we're an hour late
getting into Chicago and now it's really crunch time. We wait for the bag from Alaska, jump on the shuttle train and dash
into the International terminal ... only to find nobody at the KLM desk! I went over the counter into the back room and
learned that all the KLM folks had gone down to the departure gate. There was nobody who could help us. Now what?
Fortunately I'd printed KLM boarding passes before leaving home so we had a way to get through Security, but we now had two
roll-on bags, a large backpack and two smaller personal items -- clearly more luggage than we were allowed to bring on board.
Would it work? Would they have given our seats away? Could we gate check the extra bag? We didn't know, but we were then
about fifteen minutes from our scheduled departure time and there were clearly no other options but to go for it. We didn't
even know the gate number of our flight but charged bravely into the unknown, figuring we'd either end up spending the night
on the plane, in a hotel at the airport or perhaps in jail! For sure we looked like a couple of gypsies with all our luggage.
All we have needed to really complete the look would have been a couple of live chickens!
We skidded up to the gate just as the last passengers were heading down the jetway into the (totally full) 747. Had I not
checked in by printing those boarding passes we certainly would have been out of luck, but KLM was really cool about it.
We still had our seats and they let us on with all the bags. We got a fair share of dirty looks as we scrambled to find
places to stow all our gear, but as soon as we flopped into our seats, they closed the aircraft door and we were away!
I am coming to appreciate more and more that much of what draws me back to specific areas revolves
around memorably pleasant dining experiences that have impressed me. When we were figuring out the itinerary for this trip,
I planned our time in Montepulciano to give me at least one chance to go to Osteria Acquacheta because I know they close for
a week or so around Christmas. Tonight was closing night, so we made it just under the wire.
I deal with a lot of restaurants and there are always lapses I can help them fix and opportunities I can help them grasp,
but there are a few -- Acquacheta being one of them -- where those little quirks are such an authentic part of who they are
that I wouldn't dare suggest they change a thing, lest they lose the soul of the place. The more I think about it, the more
I come to realize that I am drawn back to Acquacheta not just because of the amazing food, but because it has a soul.
Giulio, the stern-faced owner with a heart of gold, is a stickler for detail. The food quality takes precedence over all.
His signature item is Steak Fiorentina, a massive 1.5 kilo (3.3 pound) bone in t-bone cut by hand, priced by weight, cooked
over a wood fire in the open kitchen and served rare, cut into thick slices. Apart from the steak, the rest of the
modestly-priced menu is written out by hand every day and items are crossed off as they sell out. Most food in Italy has
always been a farm-to-table operation. Why would anyone ever do it any other way?
Giulio is a benign dictator, perhaps Montepulciano's answer to the "Soup Nazi" character of Seinfeld fame. He runs his
45-seat realm by a firm set of rules, largely because he has to or it won't work. There are only two seatings a night,
one at 7:30 and one at 9:00. If you don't have a reservation, the odds are you won't get in. Make a reservation and fail to
show up and you'll probably never be allowed back again. The seating is communal, so unless you have a larger party, you'll
be dining with strangers with whom you may or may not share a common language. I find that for some reason that forced
togetherness tends to open me up to be more experimental. Wine is by the carafe and you'll get one glass to use for wine or
water or both. Don't ask for another empty glass, it won't happen. There are no frills, no silverware changes ... and it has
become a celebrated destination restaurant for all of central Italy.
After traveling for two days straight, Margene was too tired to go out for dinner so I took our early reservation and ate
alone. Three pounds of steak was well outside the realm of reality, so I went for a half liter of house red (3 euros*), the
osso bucco (8 euros) and a side of fresh spinach (3 euros). I took home a care package for Margene: an order of pici (thick
hand-rolled pasta) with a wild boar ragu (7.5 euros) and an order of tiramisu (4 euros). That's a lot of superb food for an
unbelievable price! Any wonder the place is packed ten months out of the year? (Guilio closes for January and February and
heads for someplace warm. Smart man!)
*At the moment a euro is equivalent to about US$1.25, the best exchange rate in quite awhile.
© 2014 Restaurant Doctor
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