Porchetta sandwiches, drunken spaghetti, and other ways to love Florence
1. Fall in love with lampredotto
Of all the sensorial delights available in the overstimulating tourist trap that is Florence—making out in the moonlight on the Ponte Vecchio; communing with Botticellis and Donatellos; pairing fire-charred Chianina bisteccas with back vintages of Le Pergole Torte—could it be that a sloppy street snack of stewed tripe ranks among the very finest?
Behold, lampredotto, Florence's preeminent cibo da strada, a Renaissance-era sandwich named for its putative resemblance to boiled lamprey flesh. There's no way around it: The stuff is ugly. Wrinkly, flaccid, grayish beige, it emerges from its vat of indiscernible bouillon, wobbling on the end of the trippaio's (tripe-seller's) carving fork. That such a pile of innards is beloved in such a stylish, wealthy merchant center—and has been for over 500 years—is rendered even more incongruous by the city's pastel-hued elegance. It's like a joke from the Middle Ages whose punch line is still being hawked from street carts in San Marco.
Dante probably ate it while pining after Beatrice. There's a good reason for its ongoing appeal: Lampredotto tastes as divine as it looks infernal.
The first time I tried it was at a street food stand called Sergio Pollini. The vendor's setup wasn't too different from a New York City hot dog cart, only with the everlasting façade of Sant'Ambrogio church on a prehistoric cobblestone piazza as a backdrop. I was with friends, classical painting students, who assured me that as nasty as lampredotto looks, my taste buds would grasp the reality immediately.
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