Onward to Fidenza

The Bubbio Airbnb had the luxury of a noon check-out, so there was no pressure to pack up the night before. I got up and worked on my blog while the girls slept. Our next place also had a 5 pm check-in time, so even with the noon check-out, we'd have a few hours to kill on our way to Fidenza, near Parma.

Our Bubbio Airbnb

I made breakfast of eggs and toast and avocado. Bella liked the coffee-flavored yogurt from Lidl. Coffee is so inexpensive here, if there's a coffee place nearby (unlike at Corsanico) I'd rather just get coffee out. The Moka pot makes good coffee, but it's never as good as what a true espresso machine makes.

We packed up and just as we were loading the car, the host came by. She was very nice. We chatted a bit.

On our way driving out, we remembered the bakery, so Cristina popped in and bought a bag of those hazelnut nuggets of goodness. They came individually wrapped in wax paper. So quaint.

We parked near the church and looked for a coffee place. It turns out there's a whole pedestrian area on the other side of the church, filled with restaurants and bars and coffee shops and gelaterias! We felt dumb for thinking Frankino was our only nearby option. But we did really enjoy Frankino, so it is what it is.

We got cappuccino.

After coffee, we looked inside the church. It's amazing that even though Bubbio is a very small town, it still has a big, very ornate church.

Properly caffeinated, we hit the road and headed east towards Fidenza, about a 2 hour drive. We stopped at a service plaza and we ate the leftover tuna toss for lunch. We parked in a shaded spot and just ate it in the car with the windows down. Then we went inside and checked it out. Italian rest areas, service plazas, truck stops, whatever you want the call them, don't have the outdoor beauty and comfort that Danish rest areas have. But what they do have is amazing quality and selection of items inside. I guess the easiest comparison would be Wawa, if Wawa also had things like prosciutto and formaggio and Italian wine. There's also a section that has non-grocery items, everything from souvenirs to charging cables to hats and toys. And there's one of these rest areas about every 15-20 km on the motorway! I believe you could literally only eat at truck stops in Italy and still come away with a high opinion of Italian food.

We got to Fidenza about an hour before check-in, paid for parking at a spot in the vicinity of our Airbnb, and then found the place on foot. Since we'd paid for 3 hours of parking, we walked to a nearby shopping district to find some gelato. Instead, we found a clothing store called OVS, which Bella went into and started clothes shopping. Fun Fact: right across from the OVS is a 24-hour vending machine area, where you can get the normal vending machine stuff AS WELL AS HOT FOOD, like kabob. Hot food from a vending machine. Mind blown. And no, I did not try it.

While the girls were shopping, I was communicating with the host, who said she'd send her son to meet us at the parking lot. I told her that the girls were shopping, but we'd be there soon. We finally finished up and go back to the car close to 5. We waited for 10 minutes or so, and Bella decided to walk down to the parking lot nearer the actual apartment, in case that's what they meant. She found the son and texted for us to join them with the car. We parked there and he showed us the apartment. Another very spacious place, this time with AC. We said goodbye to Luca, brought all our stuff in, then moved the car to the free parking area across the train tracks. The parking area is covered by solar panels for shade. I wish every parking lot in the States did that. It makes so much sense. People complain about solar farms because they take up a lot of space. But think about all the stupid giant parking lots that we've covered our cities with. That's the perfect place to put the panels AND they provide shade to the cars. Win-win! While I'm complaining about American parking lots, I'll add that several of the big supermarkets that we've gone to in Europe have underground parking garages. Why is that not a thing more often in the States? Again, it's all about the shade. And not having acres and acres of parking lots would be such a different improved look for America.

We chilled out a bit, literally, and Cristina figured out the washing machine. Then we headed back to the shopping district to find some dinner. We checked out a gelato place called Magritte's and the guy behind the counter (may have been the owner) gave us two recommendations for dinner places. We chose a trattoria near the church called Antica Trattoria il Duomo. We didn't really know what the difference in a trattoria and a restaurant is, but the first thing we noticed is that we were given no menu once seated. The older woman serving us explained the antipasti, the primi and secondi. While she was explaining, Bella laughed at something unrelated and the woman kind of scolded Bella in Italian. That was funny, but since we couldn't understand exactly what she was saying, we didn't take offense or anything. It did lay the foundation that this was Mama's show, and we were happy to just go along for the ride.

So later, I looked it up. A trattoria rooted in tradition may typically provide no printed menu, casual service, and low prices. Food tends to be modest but plentiful, mostly following regional and local recipes, sometimes even served family-style, at common tables.

First, (I'll just call her Mama) Mama brought red wine in a little pitcher and a basket of bread. Then, and I'm not exactly sure why, she brought one of the primi first, which was spinach ricotta ravioli. So incredibly light and tender. Then she brought the second primi, which was beans and pasta in sauce. Delicious. Then the antipasta: a plate of three kinds of meat (salami, prosciutto, and something else) plus a bowl of red and yellow peppers marinated in a sweet olive oil, plus a platter of hot, fried bread, which I think is called gnocco fritto. At this point, everything tasted so good and you start to think, what else is coming? Then came the secondo, the protein. A large chicken meatball (I know it doesn't sound good, but it was delicious) with sauce and roasted carrots. The chicken, I think, is called polpette di pollo. Dabbing up the sauce with the last bits of gnocco fritto... heaven. This may have been the best meal I've had in Italy so far. Certainly the most unexpected.

She offered dessert and coffee, but we had planned to get gelato from the guy who recommended this place, so we declined Mama's offer. Having no menu and not knowing the prices was a little bit of a gamble, but the bill wasn't outrageous. It wasn't exactly the "low prices" that the wikipedia description of a trattoria mentions, but it was similar to what we've paid at most restaurants. But worth every penny.

We went back to Magritte's and got gelato. It was good, but we tried some riskier flavors and they weren't all homeruns. Not sure I'm a fan of avocado gelato.

Finally, we carried our food babies home and put them to bed in the cool comfort of our air conditioned apartment.