Juicy Post: A Tale Of Two Restaurants

A Sketch of Two Cities

I can’t honestly say that it’s the best of times and the worst of times here in Bologna — life rarely arranges itself so neatly. But it does feel as if I’m living in two parallel cities: the one I see outside my window in Italy, and the one I read about in Washington, DC,  my former hometown,  where the news arrives like rolling weather systems. 

Housing for students is a real problem here. AirBnB hasn’t helped, and outside investors are buying apartments as if they were blue-chip stocks. A progressive city government — slow perhaps,  but not asleep — is experimenting with rent caps tied to income, subsidized housing, and a new tram system to expand public transport. Sustainability isn’t a slogan; you actually see people walking, biking, sorting waste properly, and using revived public spaces that had been abandoned for decades. Tree-planting isn’t ceremonial — they plant trees and then water them – not something I saw with any frequency in Alexandria. 

It is a university city, with large communities of immigrants and an international student body. Bologna has its share of homelessness, its share of protests and strikes (all highly synchronized), and its bureaucracies. But it also has surprises amd fluidity. Bologna was once a city of canals, most of which were paved over after WWII. Now one of them, along the Riva di Reno, has been uncovered and turned into a quiet urban walk. Art exhibitions seem to multiply. Music is in the city’s bones — you hear it from open windows and in the faint tuning of a violin as you pass in the street. You are likely to see students and musicians walking along with their instrument cases more than shoppers with branded bags. 

Meanwhile, the news from home feels darker by the day — the raids, the protests, and what has become our annual ritual of sacrificing children to guns. I still cannot wrap my head around school-shooter drills as a “solution.” It is bittersweet to see young candidates running for office because gun violence was their first political memory – probably best described by the organization Leaders We Deserve.

At the same time, unexpected forms of resistance appear — knitters sitting outside detention facilities like a 21st-century Madame Defarge, only kinder. Smart phones record what power would prefer to erase, and the footage is quietly archived for the day when accounting finally happens. And yes — I get more clarity from late-night comedians than from legacy news. I only wish their laser sharp humor translated better into Italian.

Breathe In, Eat Out

In the middle of all this, we look for places where the heart rate drops — and for me, that’s mealtime. Cooking with seasonal ingredients, trying a new recipe, or simply sitting down in a restaurant where someone else has done the work — that’s not escapism, rather more like restoration. At home in the US, we ate out with friends who loved to try something new. Sometimes the pricing was eyebrow-raising; sometimes we found restaurants serving immigrant communities where the food was extraordinary and the bill was not stratospheric. And sometimes the most-reviewed restaurants were the most disappointing, while the gems quietly cooked on without influencer attention.

We’re certainly enjoying that same exploration in Bologna. And I’ve been delighted to hear from some of you who’ve tried — and agreed with — my recommendations and the occasional thumbs-down. So in that spirit, here are two restaurants you should know when you visit this vibrant, approachable city. Both are in the higher-priced, fine-dining-but-not-stuffy category. And yet they tell very different stories about hospitality — and, to a certain degree, about the world we’re living in.

Trattoria Da Me

Trattoria Da Me (Restaurant at My Place)  has two outlets and a patrician nod from the Michelin Guide. It appears regularly in the lists curated by travel influencers and the predictable dining guides. What started as a simple Bolognese restaurant in 1937 now has a slick website for both branches where you are informed that your eating time is limited to 105 minutes. We went to the one cleverly housed on the ground floor of one of Bologna’s medieval towers. The interior design in the spacious dining area is eye candy — modern, relaxing, with a smart mix of textures and colors. (I freely admit: I’m a sucker for Italian restaurant design.) The front desk is very welcoming and very non commital.

But there is a whiff of American restaurant culture here. We were seated by the swinging kitchen door right in front of a sideboard which the waitstaff constantly used to retrieve plates, cutlery and linens.  105 minutes on the parking meter now seemed longer. The staff is well-trained — including in the art of upselling. Perhaps you’d like a side?  You shouldn’t miss our crescentini – and yes they are delicious. A tasting portion of their world-famous ragù? A second bottle?

The food is cooked well by a seasoned brigade happily applying modernist touches to Bolognese traditions. Our chicken dish was simple but outstanding in quality and preparation.  Some appetizers were less so — especially at these prices. And the pastry chef clearly possesses a savory palate. An apple tart that longed for a pork chop, a leaden almond financier topped with a bizarre chestnut garnish and camomile ice cream. Even my grandson noticed the upselling pressure and the pricing — and the fact that he noticed surprised me. We had no trouble finishing within the allotted time and were treated politely as we left. But the meter was always ticking.

L’Arcimboldo

On Via Galliera — one of my favorite streets in Bologna — tucked in next to a jazzy independent bakery and café, is a small, elegant restaurant you probably won’t find in a lot of tourist guides. L’Arcimboldo is named after the Mannerist painter who created wild portraits out of fruits, vegetables, and household objects – you sometimes have to look twice at his portraits. Salvador Dali was influenced by Giuseppe Arcimboldo. The restaurant’s presentations sometimes nod in his direction, and I loved the changing displays of art inside — many of them devoted to the shape and spirit of the tortellino. (You might consider stopping at their  charming Laboratorio a few blocks away on Via Galliera where they make all of the pastas by hand for the restaurant, and you can purchase them for a quick meal if you have a mini kitchen in your lodging)

Like Da Me, this kitchen is ambitious. They twist certain Bolognese traditions while staying faithful to others. The combinations can be bold and their garnishes vary from whimsical to dramatic. I’ve had some dishes that were quietly sublime and only a few that missed the mark. What sets them apart is not perfection, but humanity and pride in their cooking and service.  The staff is warm, calm, and genuinely welcoming, no matter how full the dining room is. No upselling. No  virtual clock on your table. They assume you are there to be nourished — not managed.

These two restaurants — both capable, both creative — tell very different stories. One feels engineered and slightly extractive. The other feels authentic and human. In a world where so much of life, from housing to healthcare to education, is treated like a financial instrument, that difference matters more than ever.

A good meal won’t fix gun violence or urban housing. But it can remind us what care, attention, and time at the table are supposed to feel like — and why the rest of life should aspire to the same standard.