Carnevale

I was hungry on arrival in Venezia and as one of my uglier characteristics, my friends were quick to take note of this and guide me through the masked throngs and straight to a bar. Piping hot prosciutto, courgette and spinach panino in hand, we headed for the banks of the Grand Canal. There we feasted on our various sandwiches, with briny wash threatening to smatter our shoes and a curious gull for entertainment.

Onwards for a while, stopping at stalls to compare the plumage of glittering masks and marvel at glass balloons, but the sweet scent of Venetian patisserie pervaded the streets and the lavishly-filled pastel windows continuously drew sighs of temptation. There were pyramids of cream-filled meringues in plain, pistachio and rose hues, gargantuan cocoa-coated truffles and lumpy torrone studded with glazed nuts or candied fruits. We decided to sample the more particular seasonal specialities of the city, such as the crumbly lemon and vanilla biscotti ‘del Doge’ and ‘Torta Veneziana’, an intense mixture of pistachio, sultanas and almonds.

After wandering further astray into the rabbit-warren of Venetian streets, we drifted towards Piazza San Marco which was bustling with costumed foreigners and locals alike, parading as if they were courting ostriches outside Florians. After having gawped enough, we left in pursuit of hot drinks and settled down in a cafe ordering various infusions, few of which were in stock. Having changed our orders, we were then presented with a selection of things that we hadn't ordered which (losing patience a little) we preceded to drink anyway (once we had reminded the waitress that usually one has water to go with ones teabag).

Not wanting to fall prey to any more mishaps, we moved on to a different place for dinner. This was an entirely different kettle of fish, and wanting to make the most of Venice’s lagoons, I naturally opted for seafood. Beautifully presented and with delicately balanced flavours and textures, my choice of 'gnochettini' with scallops and courgettes did not disappoint. We were also pleased to find our waiter there charmingly attentive to the extent that we were politely forbade the use of parmesan on our seafood (a crime I hadn't considered committing anyway, but obviously some people must!). Being in a gluttonous mood as I was, I plumped (literally) for a chocolate soufflé too which was deliciously unguent; otherworldly when compared to the muffin I was served in Piazza del Campo once, which was served complete with a strand of hair.

Inelegant, shop bought, microwaved, unhygienic muffin

Even more inelegant and deviously smothered replacement muffin 

A Perfect Souffle

Although the late night concerts in Piazza San Marco fell afoul of sleet and I was regretting not having been impulsive enough to buy the indigo and gold mask of pressed passion-flowers I had seen earlier, we continued to enjoy ourselves. I eventually bought another, not quite so unique but still gorgeous mask of silver and gold and slept clutching it all the way home to Siena where I fell into bed still wearing my dress at five in the morning.