This is the real reason people have blogs right? To have the power to do something when a waiter terribly offends you, as you know that you can go home, feed the cats, dust of your limited edition Star wars memorabilia and write a scathing review before Mum comes down to the basement offering you a cup of hot chocolate before you start playing world of warcraft with your online best friend, a warlock named Radagast (obviously I exclude myself in this bleak stereoptype of a blogger, I am rather different… I play Skyrim). I went here on a Friday after work with two friends I hadn’t seen for a while (when you first move to a new country… a while for new friends means a month..). It had been a long week and we were ready to relax, catch up, and sink our teeth into a light-hearted conversation on the sort of debauched fluff that a Friday evening with friends should be filled with. By the end of second course we were suffering from, as my mother calls it, a severe case of evaporation… In this case after an abstemious 1 1/2 glasses (over an hour). When we asked for a drop more, the condescending waiter replied “are you sure about that?”, I felt myself retreat to my boarding school days, where a swig of wine behind a bush on the field was oh so naughty, and should be hidden from the adults at all costs. Whilst I sat there in shock, haunted by memories of the flash light flickering in the distance on the games field, my more courageous colombian friend plucked up some of the south american gutsy-ness and told him that we were quite sure, “unless you have a problem with how much we have drunk?”. Usually these scenes are pretty embarrassing, as the Geordie pulls down her miniskirt and stumbles over to the bouncer shouting as the fag falls from her mouth and her WKD sloshes out of the bottle from her aggressive gesturing. Like I’ve already mentioned however… we were little over driving limit at 10:00pm on a friday evening, so his judgmental tone was out-of-place. I still find his confrontation hard to believe, unless this restaurant has an affiliation with A.A. and teetotalers, surely the vast majority of patrons drinks more than we did?
Unfortunately the rest of the service followed suit, there was no element of ‘..with a smile’ from any of the waiters, nor did they seem to have any basic understanding of table etiquette. The food was truly the only redeemable quality, the Antipasto della Taverna was delicious and most importantly was far from the standard place of prosciutto and mortadella that you’ll find in most restaurants. Instead there was a feast of traditional tarts and mysterious yet sumptuous bits and bobs from the never-ending pool from the Italian cooking scripture, indecipherable to all those without a grey-haired Nonna. Primi piatti followed with a heaped plate of Spaghetti con le cozze, fresh tomatoes roughly tossed throughout making a light sauce. This is one of my favourite dishes in Italy, and I regret to say, they didn’t disappoint!
What really made this meal for me however, was the desert. On a family trip to Napoli over 10 years ago, I vividly remember a desert that I thought was a restaurant speciality so divine and special that unless I were to make a pilgrimage back to this long forgotten restaurant I would never again taste this delight. All these years later at Taverna della Scala, the dolce still in mind, I finally discovered I had eaten a traditional Italian tartufo and what a treat! This can vary from a bland chocolate ice cream, to, as I ate here, a delicious coffee ice-cream with a melted chocolate inside and an outerlayer of coco powder. D.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s.
I cannot criticism the food here, and if that is all you seek then by all means. However good food is not hard to come by in Trastevere, so why suffer through rude and agressive service?
If I haven’t put you off… seek here for more information..
[Images not my own.. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tartufo_di_Pizzo.jpg%5D