The Captain’s Daughter
My mind’s been elsewhere recently, and until this afternoon, I wasn’t really sure where that was. I thought it might’ve run away in light of my recent apartment drama (yup, my roommate and I are moving. Again.) or maybe checked out after my latest pseudo romance turned out to be another dead end (cue the T-Swift playlist), or possibly just felt drained from the House of Cards binge I’ve subjected it to (woa, season 2, WOA).
Likely, it was all of those things and more that drove it away, but today at lunch, the second I bit into a beautiful, sloppy sandwich at Saltie, I figured out where it had been all along: on a seaside vacation.
The way a certain smell or song can trigger a specific memory, so can certain foods, or more specifically flavors, just as easily conjure a place in my mind. Today, as I chomped away on a lemony, garden-worth of arugula, plump, juicy sardines, briny capers, creamy slices of pickled eggs and a zesty smear of salsa verde, all between thick, golden focaccia flecked with sea salt, my mind immediately went to a sunny day on a coastal town somewhere.
A tasty mess
The carefree ease I felt while eating (and making a mess out of) that sandwich, listed at Saltie as the Captain’s Daughter, made me think that’s where my mind’s been all along. Maybe it wasn’t a lazy beach getaway that my mind took. Maybe it’s just been hanging out at a small sandwich shop in Williamsburg this whole time. Either way it’s good to know where I can turn to get my head and my stomach—and consequently my heart— on the same page.
Really, I should’ve known a great sandwich would’ve made everything better all along.
Il Lampredottaio of Sant’Ambrogio
When I lived in Florence a few years ago, my apartment was a stone’s throw away from what is apparently one of the best places in town to get one of the most Florentine foods around, lampredotto. I never went because 1. while I’m not opposed to offal, eating the cow’s fourth stomach wasn’t really high on my must-eat list, and 2. I always just figured that I would get around to it at some later point. But when I left and moved to New York, I did so without ever trying the famous local street meat.
Last week though, during my vacay in Italy, I went back to my old stomping grounds and finally made it to the famous lampredottaio (i.e. the lampredotto vendor) of Sant’ Ambrogio.
Panino al lampredotto, an old Florentine tradition
So what’s the cow’s fourth stomach (cause yes, they have four) like, you ask? Well, it’s not exactly pretty. With its greyish brown color (before being cooked, which it is, in a broth of onions, tomatoes and other ingredients) and its wrinkly, floppy texture, it definitely doesn’t get points for being aesthetically pleasing. But once it’s cooked, plopped on to a warm, toasty roll and dressed with a healthy drizzle of salsa verde (a tangy, flavorful sauce made of garlic, parsley, and olive oil) and a few fat drops of spicy sauce, the lampredotto panino is actually not half bad. It’s interesting. It has a slightly off-putting texture at first but the deeper you chomp into the heart of the sandwich, where all the juices and flavors have collected, it actually gets pretty good.
Had I tried it when it was just a few steps away from my apartment I don’t think it would have necessarily become my neighborhood go-to but I liked it enough to be glad I finally stopped to try it.
For another post on the Florentine street meat from a great blogger who really knows what she’s talking about, check this out. Buon appetito!