In my mind, nothing says Italian cuisine like a pudgy mama dropping a bowl of hearty carbonara or Ossobuco before me with an emphatic “prego!”. As it turns out, I did not encounter my food dream sequence in Rome or in Florence this past spring break (especially the part about the plump woman delivering my food).

If there were as many traditional and delicious restaurants as there were tourists queuing up to see the Colosseum, it would be much easier to find some good eatin’ in Rome. The majority of restaurants in the city’s center are havens for photo-snapping travelers. Translation: overpriced eateries that aim to mimic the watered-down versions of Italian cooking which tourists are served at home.

Admittedly, I become pretty cranky and unmanageable without a keg-sized barrel of food floating through my stomach at all times. For a more concrete image, envision Jabba the Hut following a strict vegan regimen. Desperate for food after a morning of sightseeing and aware of my food-related mood swings, I grabbed a table at one of said tourist-catered restaurants to refuel the tank. The pizza and pasta served appeared frozen, like the Ellio’s pies you used to shove in the toaster for a quick after-school snack.

Luckily, my trusty travel guide highlighted some neighborhoods off-the-beaten-path where I was able to enjoy much better food (as well as become much more pleasant toward those who were around me). Testaccio was one of these residential, nearly tourist-free zones. For lunch, I ordered fetuccine in a porcini cream sauce and tiramisu for dessert. While both dishes were tasty and a solid step up from the other options in the city, I still had not found a great home-cooked, unique Italian meal. The pasta was a bit soupy, and while the tiramisu was light and creamy, it was missing the sharp flavor provided by espresso and liquor. As bad as it sounds, I began to wonder if Mario and Tony in the States just do it better.

Then came my food savior — Florence. In this city, there was a much more favorable ratio of family-owned eateries to canned pasta-peddlers. Trattoria Mario, a bustling, old-world kitchen, is a prime example of no-frills authenticity in both food and atmosphere.

It’s no wonder the lunch hour crowd swarms outside Mario’s magazine acclaim-plastered doors every day. Its simple food and environment have been well-preserved since the restaurant’s opening in 1953. Menu options include Tuscan staples such as ribollita, a porridge-like stew of beans and sliced bread, ravioli al ragu, and a large selection of grilled meat dishes all the size of my head. (And believe you me, that’s pretty sizeable.) The floor is cramped with long wooden tables often shared by complete strangers, similar to the setup of a middle school cafeteria. Adjacent to the dining area, chefs prepare meat and pasta dishes as waitresses shout food orders to them in sing-songy Italian.

Polenta al forno was my favorite meal there. Hell, it was the best thing I’d had in all of Italy. The polenta was sliced and covered with a creamy tomato and meat sauce . It was equally delicious in texture and in flavor, a bit chewy and slightly tangy. This meat sauce differed from the one atop ravioli al ragu, which was lighter on the tomato and a bit more generous with the meat and freshly grated pecorino. The consistency of the polenta’s sauce was smoother and creamier, which seeped into the cornmeal like water into a sponge.

This restaurant was much closer to the simple, authentic food I dreamed of pre-departure. As cute as she may be, I’d kick that apron-clad nonna to the side in a heartbeat to make way for the delicious food and endearingly boisterous crowd at Trattoria Mario.

Trattoria Mario
Via Rossina, 2R
Florence, Italy
055.218.550

Price Rating: $-$$

I’ve realized that the number of posts I’ve written this past month and a half has been quite low. Scratch that — it’s been non-existent. Consequently, I’ve decided to make a wholehearted effort at hopping back on the food wagon (meals-on-wheels style).

La Casa de las Tostas, a rustic taberna complete with exposed brick walls and small wooden tables, has propelled me to start writing again. When it comes to most activities, especially eating, I consider myself a true creature of habit. Once I encounter a dish I really enjoy, I feel compelled, as if by some arbitrary contract, to order that same meal whenever I return to the restaurant. At La Casa de las Tostas, however, my monotonous eating habits are flipped upside down as I continue to order something new every time. (I know, quite the daredevil.)

Not only has each tosta I’ve tried been tasty and interesting, but also guilt-free from my wallet’s standpoint. Every single one of those meat, vegetable, fish, or cheese blanketed pieces of toasted bread run for 6.75 Euro a pop. My American (a.k.a. heifer-minded) sensibilities originally led me into thinking that a piece of toast would barely suffice as an appetizer. But the tostas are pretty generous — just one (plus your choice of wine or beer) functions as that night’s dinner.

I’ve gone three times so far and have sampled two Italian-inspired tostas — one topped with sliced tomatoes, a light drizzle of pesto, and grated parmesan cheese, and the other was the same, except the tomatoes were substituted for Carpaccio and arugula. I’ve also had a tosta covered with melted goat cheese and sweet caramelized onions and another with small grilled shrimp over a spread of mayonnaise and garlic. Other topping choices range from cod, tuna, steak, or fried eggs and ham. After scarfing down ham sandwich after ham sandwich in Spain, this more sophisticated open-faced concoction has been a refreshing change.

La Casa de las Tostas
Calle Argumosa, 29
28012 Madrid
915.270.842

Price Rating: $