Receiving the rock: I see Naples and then you fatten

you know the saying”See Naples and die“I am the opposite of Goethe? I see Naples and then you get fatSo much so that every time I return I am forced to plan a visit to the nearest store Petron Plus Sizes. It suffices, in fact, to get off the train and leave Naples Central Station to immediately find yourself hurled into Dante’s circle of pastry shopsAnd TakeawayAnd the pizzerias and restaurants they seem to have created Dr. Nozardan from Live to the fullest and their accountants. Not even the time to stretch my legs and light the first (completely forbidden) cigarette that was sucked right away pastry shop in front of the station Hearts of Svogliatella, where they bake sfogliatelle and babà just as quickly as the hippocampus. From here begins my tour of Naples, where the mustache and collar of the jacket have already been bleached with powdered sugar. I practically look like Tony Montana at Scarface.

Of course, you cannot visit this beautiful city without eating at least one pizza a day. It would be like going to Favignana Island and staying in a two star hotel to swim in an inflatable pool. There are many places where you can eat excellent Neapolitan pizza, the one that the Romans have for us high promenade Like the edge of an inflatable boat Cape Horn Nighthawk 200. Apparently one of the places of worship for the real Neapolitan pizza From Gino and Toto SorbilloThe queue for entry usually reminds of those at the toll booth in Rome Nord on August 31 after returning from holidays. Alternatively, take advantage of the time that even a Dane would think early for dinner, I could easily go in and find a table on the second floor. Without wasting time and instant recovery from calorie loss due to stairs, I order one Fried pizza stuffed with ricotta cheese, basil, fiordelilla and siccoli Neapolitan (i.e. a solid residue of boiled and drained pork fat) which has the shape and weight of an old Tolfetan sack, which was fashionable among the whims of the 1970s. Not happy, I decided to try pizza He’s a demon (with Faicchio salami, organic tomato, chili, buffalo mozzarella, parmesan cheese, basil, olive oil) that has an ocean hula hop And it scares me as if one of the above mentioned people sent me a card dipped in LSD. There is, too Adriana’s pizza (with organic tomatoes, ricotta, buffalo, mozzarella, basil and olive oil) It’s amazing and I’d like to get up and shout Sylvester Stallone at rocky After meeting against Apollo Creed.

L ‘Antica Pizza da Michele It is necessary to eat there The real Neapolitan pizza. Here too, there’s usually a class similar to the one you’ll do it in brazmil To slap Matteo Salvini, but also this time thanks to the time when not even poor Claire of a monastery in Assisi ate, I can find a place. Each table is named after a celebrity who visited the pizzeria and was hired Good Low. They must have seen in me the obvious resemblance to the English actor or, more likely, Bombolo had never come to eat pizza here. Menu, Slim Proof Senile Dementia, Provided Only 4 kinds of pizza (Margherita, Marinara, Cosack and Marietta) and 3 drinks (Coca-Cola beer, Fanta and Nastro Azzurro). After a very good classic margherita, which I ate just as quickly as I had dodged it before the illegal ghost vendors on Via dei Tribunali, I wanted to try the famous Cossack pizza (With tomato, grated pecorino instead of mozzarella, basil, and oil). The name appears to derive from the residence of Tsar Nicholas I and his wife Alexandra Fedorovna in Sicily and Naples as guests of the House of Bourbon. In fact, it seems that Tsarina was sick with tuberculosis and needed a climate much warmer than the harsh climate of Petersburg. In fact, she recovered from tuberculosis, but because of eating arancini and pizza, she came home with a matryoshka body and suffering from cholesterol. The bill, in both pizzerias, does not exceed 15 euros per person. I spent more filling up my bike last week.

During the Easter period, the generous Neapolitan cuisine is already enriched with some essential elements such as mussel soup (Inside there are also octopus, shrimp and squid) flavored with tomato, garlic and parsley. Crispy or tarry bread is added to the bottom of the dish, which in any case will not prevent you from ordering two more loaves of bread to make the shoe in the gravy. Being greedy for any kind of shellfish, I begin my intermittent search for this dish with the same enthusiasm as Fantuzzi, having learned of his impending death, moves on, Gennaro or Fibrioni To eat four kilograms of raw mussels. I have been able to try this traditional soup in two well known places that were recommended by the Neapolitans themselves. In the In ‘Taverna Do’ Rea well-known family-run restaurant a stone’s throw from Maschio Angioino, I ate an excellent one, with a juicy broth in which I drenched myself like a diver must walk to the bottom of the sea.

Once I got to the surface and removed the wetsuit, I wanted to try too Gragnano Neapolitan Genoese mezzanine, whose great geographical name derives from the possible presence of Genoese chefs in the land of Naples in the seventeenth century. It’s a creamy white ragu pasta made with tons of onions. Amazing, even if after eating it, your breath will make your Malagrotta dump look like a lavender field. Another dish of Neapolitan tradition is . Spaghetti alla Luciana With octopus sauce cooked in a casserole pan with plenty of garlic. I liked it very much, although the drizzle of broth makes my shirt look like Eddie van Halen’s guitar. To follow, excellent Grilled cod with broccoli And in honor of the upcoming Easter, a slice of homemade pastera for dessert.

The second mussel soup I ate in a landmark business in Via Foria, To Figlia d’o Marenaroa popular restaurant that is always open, with modern, luxurious and upscale furnishings, led by celebrities and very stylish Assunta Pacific. The menu is as long and captivating as a Stephen King novel, and choosing from such an endless array of fish dishes makes me anxious as the bomb squad has to decide which line to cut to defuse the bomb. The atmosphere is a bit hectic, there is a constant going and going and dozens of highly efficient waiters can serve you without you having time to get hung up on any of them. The only constant presence on the tables is the inevitable new singer who, if you have the unfortunate idea of ​​giving him leads, will stick to your ears as he pours Neapolitan classics for at least half an hour. Fortunately, my emoji is unemotional from moai From Rapa Nui along with my hidden vertebra made him give up on the spot and I was able to taste what everyone thought peacefully Best Mussel Soup in Naples. According to all but one compared to the one I ate the day before, I found it to be a little bland and a little too much drySo much so, that I only used one slice of bread to make the shoe. Bad record for me. I noticed that little sauce with the same gloomy expression with which I usually look at a few milliliters of wine poured into my glass while tasting.

But the greatest disappointment comes soon after, when one of the six hundred passing waiters tells me that the musical oysters are over, for a kilo of which I will sell my mother and two aunts. After I cried like Dan Harrow on Celebrity Island, I felt so good soutè of sea truffles (Obviously I didn’t know it was a clam-like bivalve slug with a thick, hard shell like a diamond in a 1960s bathroom) which deserved a meticulous shoe and a plate cleaning that not even a Bosch Series 4 dishwasher would get. As a first course I wanted to try Patcheri with crab, good and delicate, even if I have to order a thermal pike to open the crust of the crustacean and eat the pulp. And secondly, I chose the very delicious fried seafood that is served in kubothis is a paper cone the size of the loudspeaker of a 1950s movie director.

After this meal, it would be ideal to take a long walk to eliminate at least a third of the accumulated calories, but Naples This is impossible. Many along the way ovens And Street food stalls They draw me as Ulysses was with the song of sirens. I couldn’t find a mast to tie myself to on the street, I felt the duty to taste one pasta omelette (usually bucatini with bechamel, cooked ham and peas), a Napoli sandwich (full of salami, lycoli, boiled eggs and cheese), and again to honor the holy Easter, Mini Casatilo. Practically the only siren I ever risked hearing was the ambulance whistle in the direction of Cardarelli Hospital. My tour ends instead with a sad return to Central Station after three days of pure culinary libido and my return to Rome making me feel a bit like Cicciolina after menopause.

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