What do you sleep under?

One thing I've been noticing on our current trip is the different assumptions about how a bed gets covered.

In the US, you typically have (bottom to top):

• Boxspring
• Mattress
• Fitted bottom sheet
• Top sheet
• Blanket
• Quilt

The three top layers are optional, and you use whatever makes sense for the weather.

In Europe (at least, most of the places I've traveled, both hotels and AirBnBs/VRBOs), the custom seems to typically be to just have a duvet on top, and that keeps throwing me for a loop.

I mean, I kind of understand the appeal: when I was growing up, I invariably just used a quilt, year-round. I didn't learn The Way of the Hospital Corner until after getting married.

But I'm coming to the opinion that I like the American norm better, because it's more modular. In winter, I'll have all three pulled up; in summer, I'll just be using the top sheet. Right now on our trip, I'm finding the duvet typically just a little bit warmer than I want, at least during part of the night.

No idea whether I'm typical or weird this way, but the difference has been catching my attention.

(Tangent: posts of more than 500 characters are going here, but short microblog-length entries about our vacation are going on my Mastodon, using the same #europe2024 tag as here.)

Gotha Spiriti Nobili

(CW: alcohol)

As many of my friends know, I am an Amaro Nerd. My booze collection contains more amari than most bars, and indeed more than the typical liquor store.

(I concluded some years back that I am very slightly OCD, which I channel in specific ways. One of them is allowing myself to get horribly completist about a few things, one of which is amari. This is slightly controlled by the rule that Kate has imposed: before buying a new bottle, I'm required to finish something, lest the collection completely take over the basement.)

For those who are going, "Okay, what the hell are you talking about?" -- Amaro is a ridiculously over-broad category of spirits that is particularly ill-defined; it is almost "everything that doesn't have a better name". Italy is the heart of amari, although there are plenty native to the US (Malort is, god help us, pretty clearly a terrifying variant of amaro) and lots that basically fit under that term in many countries of Europe.

They tend to be more bitter than other drinks. (Although not always.) They tend not to be very sweet. (Although some are fairly sweet.) They often involve herbal flavors, and often spices. Some are very strong (up to 100+ proof); others are basically just infused wines. There's a lot of "you know it when you taste it" involved, but really -- if it doesn't fall into another category of booze, there's a decent chance that it qualifies.

Anyway...

During the food tour the other night, I asked about regional amari, and our tour guide recommended that I try Blu. I didn't try it that night, but looking it up, I discovered that the makers were only about a mile from where we are staying in Bologna. So while Kate had a sit-down this afternoon, I wandered over there.

It turns out that Gothi Spiriti Nobili basically operate out of a local bar -- I walked right on past them before re-checking the address and doubling back. They have a whole line of spirits, so I sat down and ordered several. (Hence my burbliness this evening -- I get talkative when tipsy.) Let's review.

• Blu is practically unique -- a Scotch-based amaro, which is something I've never come across before. It's a gentle and refined sipper, which lets the Scotch shine through (highland-style, not much smoke or peat), with a hint of anise from absinthe, and a slight salinity from using seawater in the blend. (This is apparently a hallmark of Gothi.)
• Settemezzo is an artichoke-based digestif (don't be shocked -- artichoke is a fairly common basis for amari), again pretty refined rather than overpowering in the way many German digestifs run. (Or punch-you-in-the-face licorice like an anisette.) Also a fine sipper, although I wish I'd ordered it straight up instead of on the rocks, which diluted its flavor too much.
• Bitter Allko is roughly in the Campari category, with the characteristic bright red warning-sign color, but better straight than Campari or indeed most of that category. Citrusy, peppery -- not as refined, but slightly sweeter and stronger in flavor, possibly my favorite of the bunch.
• Towards the end, I got into a conversation with the brewmaster's brother, and he encouraged me to try a taste of the Drai Vermouth, which is just plain hard to described. It's grapefruit-based, leaning more heavily into the characteristic salinity with both seawater and capers -- I'm not sure I'd want to drink a glass of it straight, but it would make for some fascinating cocktails.

Overall, delightful stuff. They do apparently import to the US via Oliver McCrum Wines and Spirits in California; I may have to chat with Ball Square Fine Wines and encourage them to check it out...

Bologna: a couple of restaurant reviews

I'm mostly keeping this impressionistic instead of diaristic, but dinner the past couple of nights has been good enough that it's worth a couple of briefs reviews and kudos.

On the one hand, last night we went to Parlor. This one focuses on atmosphere and attitude -- looking at their homepage, it projects sophisticated casual, and that was definitely accurate: moderately high-end but not at all stuffy.

The food was innovative to the point of startling, though. Both of our Primi were great -- Kate's pasta was in a light crema, with salmon and roe, and mine was a fusilloni in a ragu of octopus and 'nduja (flavorful with a great bite from the 'nduja). After that, I was fairly sure the Secondo that we split would be relatively boring, but it was anything but: it was venison with endive and, no shit, an onion granita. (Imagine a powerfully onion-flavored sherbet and you're getting into the ballpark.) It was weird as hell, but paired beautifully with the meat, and might turn out to be the standout dish of the entire vacation.

Slight ding for the fact that our waitress' English wasn't great (I think she was also newer, and slightly scattered), which made things slightly challenging here and there, but that's a small detail.

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Tonight was a rather different feel. Ristorante Benso is more traditionally white tablecloth; we sat outside (the weather is lovely), so didn't experience the full luxe experience, but the vibe is classically high-end, with service to match.

The food isn't quite as wild as that at Parlor, but still excellent. We started with Kate getting a couple of shrimp (just to compare the red and purple shrimp that they offered), while I got a plate of beautifully-prepared grilled octopus. For mains, I got the Spoja Lorda, tiny riccota/anchovy ravioli in a turnip green pesto (absolutely delish) and tiny baby squid, while she went for the classic Tagliatella al Ragu. Everything was a delight: a sophisticated city dinner in a quiet little Bologna alley.

I'm slightly concerned that it wasn't very busy, which I think is because of location -- it's in the middle of the old Jewish ghetto, and there is nothing on that block: you have to know to turn down this street to find it. (I discovered it by accident our first afternoon in Bologna, when I was wandering somewhat aimlessly and the menu caught my eye.) It's near the student quarter, but this is very much not a student restaurant, and it's impossible to drive within a few blocks of it. (Part of the motivation for this post is to link to it and help build wordfame: folks need to be looking for it.)

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Anyway, both places get a big thumbs-up from me. If you find yourself in Bologna, I highly recommend checking them out!