When you think of Florence, you think of Tuscany. When you think of Tuscany, you immediately remember that it’s the heart and soul of Italian cuisine, from seafood that’s so fresh that it’s practically still blinking to steaks so tender that they melt before they hit your tongue. Pastas cooked perfectly al dente, gnocchi so light that they feel like little pillows of air, and sauces so simple yet so deep in flavor that you remember that this is what food is supposed to taste like; good ingredients cooked by people who actually care about food.
I’m no foodie, by any stretch of the imagination, but I certainly appreciate good food when it’s in front of me. I think part of my problem is that I’m OK with most foods, so very little is amazing, but just as little disappoints. Despite that bias, I’ve consistently been pleased with the food that I’ve found in Florence, from appetizers to primi to secondi to whatever they call the rest of the courses. Lunch is a four course affair. Dinner? You’ll need a golf counter to count those plates. But there are advantages to this model, as compared to the American style of dining.
If you listen to any European who travels to America and eats in one of our restaurants (especially if they visit the south), the first thing they’ll comment on is the size of our portions. Yes, Americans serve big portions. Why shouldn’t we? We’re a rich country, with lots of resources, and lots of space on the table for a side salad that gets served by the pound. We don’t worry about doing things small. We have the biggest cars, the biggest military, and the biggest steaks. But if you look at what’s consumed over the course of a Florentine dinner, it’s probably the same total volume. They just put it on different plates and in different course so you’re not overwhelmed by the volume of food you’re about to ingest. It’s very similar to your mother telling you to eat one more brussel sprout. “Come on, mangia! There’s only one more course after this! You too skinny! Eat! Eat!” While I haven’t actually heard that said out loud yet, I’m pretty sure one of the waitresses was thinking it at me the other day. I may have unbuttoned my pants at the table after that meal. Which reminds me, I need to buy some suspenders. My belt doesn’t fit the way that it used to.
But the main advantage to the Florentine model of breaking a meal up into courses is that you don’t actually have to eat every course. In America, if you order a poultry entree, you get 3 pounds of chicken, give or take a pound. If you finish it, great. If not, you get a doggy bag and you do the walk of shame. Here, you can order 2 or 3 courses, safe in the knowledge that each is smaller than we’re used to, and you’re not going to need a forklift to get you out of the restaurant at the end of the meal. A single course would be a nice snack. 2 courses would be a light meal. 3 courses is a hearty meal, filling after a rough day at work. 4 would be a good evening with friends and wine, spread out over a few hours. 5 courses is a mistake, and anything over that is a circus act.
But the whole point of European dining (and Florentines do this better than anyone) is to enjoy the food and the company at your table. Dining by yourself is not frowned upon, but you don’t see many locals doing it. Everywhere I’ve gone, whenever someone was eating alone, they spoke English to the waiter. That should tell you something. Florentines dine with friends and family, enjoying salads and pastas and meats along with the company of the people they care about. What would be a 30 minute meal by yourself turns into a 90 minute dinner with friends and wine.
Meals aren’t just about the food that you eat, but about the relationships that you form during the meal. It’s not just the quality of the food on your plate, but the quality of the people you get to enjoy it with. You’ll probably forget the meal in a few days, but the memories of the time spent with friends will last a lifetime, and that’s what Tuscan dining is all about. One of the most commonly found appetizers, crostini are little pieces of bread that serve as a delivery vehicle for toppings of tomatoes, cheese, prosciutto, pate, or anything else you can imagine. Likewise, the meal itself is a delivery vehicle that provides you with the opportunity to get closer to the people you care about and to build relationships that will enrich not only the time spent at the table, but your entire life.
Maybe it’s worth sticking around for one more course after all.
