Tentative steps towards international ragù day

Returning to the previous post's final point - we had managed the change of countries well, apart from in one crucial area - we were running out of food. I am sure in Europe generally it's getting ever more difficult to find supermarkets with car parks that accommodate motorhomes. There are three Moho unfriendly trends growing ever more prevalent. Firstly, stores with height restricted car parks, either at the entrance, or in warmer climes, acres of sun shades that are too low for vans and create tricky tight turns at the end of each row. Secondly, the habit of placing curbs and planting trees and shrubs between rows so there are no 'pull through' spaces. Thirdly, in Italy particularly, buildings stores with underground car parks - cooler, but also I suppose cheaper to build as they occupy less land.

We searched Google maps, perused street view, but there seemed no nearby store where we could park. In the end Gill asked the affable site manager.

"Try 'Esselunge' in Prato," she suggested. We put in the co-ordinates into the sat nav and hoped for the best. It started well, directing us down the least terrifying descent towards the autostrada, which we reached with only one unexpected road closure and white knuckle diversion. It was only a couple of stops up the autostrada, and though the prospect of dealing with Italian urban traffic after a two year break was a tad un-nerving, the drivers in Prato's suburbs were no more than usually unpredictable and aggressive.

The back road through Pieve A Nievole is by far the least scary way to reach Camping Belasita

apart from when there is a diverion down a narrow avenue of umbrella pines.

We arrived at the store. It was a big square box, pure white and windowless like a data warehouse. It had two car parks, a large underground one and a smaller one at the side with no pull-through spaces. As we edged our way down the narrow aisles it seemed to be full anyway. We had given up on shopping here but as we passed a side entrance to the store, as if by magic, two spaces appeared at the roadside. We squeezed in, grabbed a trolley and headed in.

The quality of produce in Italy is superb, a cook's delight. Much of the vegetables were sourced from within Italy, four different types of new potatoes - those from Sardinia and Syracuse seemed to be the Italianate 'Jersey Royals'. The prices were a third lower than in France - no wonder Italian cuisine conquered the world, for its cooks have access to reasonably priced high quality ingredients, that is surely the bedrock of a culinary culture.

Fully re-supplied we headed for Bologna. Ever since Sarah and Rob stayed a few days in the city a couple of years ago they have been saying, 'You have to go to Bologna, you will love it'. So now we are. Our progress towards it monitored via WhatsApp from afar - 'Are you there yet' - messages from Lisbon, Sarah reverting to a virtual version of her five year old self.

Almost there, honest Sarah, we are...

It was mid afternoon when we drove into Centro Turistico Città di Bologna. It is a municipal run camping just off the city's 'tangentialle'. It is easy to access, in a pleasant green space on the edge of the urban area, not cheap at €29 per night, but there are no obvious alternatives. 

Our conversation with the manager was a little unusual.

Gill: Have you space for a motorhome for three nights?

Manager: Certainly, but you might not want to stay...

Gill and Pete: Non-plussed silence, quizzical look.

Manager: it's terrible, there are 300 of them, all German youths, they go to the University all day, at night loud music, drinking, the police here all the time.

Gill: Hmmm..(quick confer). Is there anywhere away from their tents, a bit quieter. We do want to visit the city...

Manager: (rummages to find site plan) Well here (pointing to a corner) is not busy and far away...

Safely ensconced in our not busy and far away pitch we waited in trepidation for the return of the Alaric memorial Erasmus exchange group. In fact they did not return for hours, we speculated that the University may have put on an evening event, or the group was busy sacking Bologna.

This momentary lull gave us the opportunity to fully appreciate other local sources of noise pollution: the tangentialle and the A14 autostrada, an Ibiza style dance venue, the chicken farm just beyond the hedge and the arrival of a long forecast violent thunderstorm. When the das jugend did finally appear they were simply one more element in the night's rich, insomnia provoking soundtrack. 

Next morning, somewhat blearily we waited at the gates for the 11 o'clock bus into the city we were joined by the student group. Given their reputation, last night's shenanigans and the trashed state of the shower block they looked quite spruce and wholly innocuous. No way was there 300 of them, it must simply have felt like that to the long suffering site manager. Perhaps 60 at most, all attempting to look cool, exuding social anxiety and pheromones in equal measure, some were even clutching note pads.

We had a plan. Have lunch at the restaurant that Sarah reckoned served the best ragù, mooch about the market area and explore the city a bit.

The small streets near Piazza Maggiore - Mecca for foodies.

Many specialist shops selling ham and parmesan

Stalls selling fresh produce fill the narrow alleyways.

One of the 'must go' places that Sarah texted us about was a small restaurant called Osteria dell' Orsa. It was in a backstreet a few hundred metres from the main market area, we found it eventually.

It looks unprepossessing from without

The menu is simple and inexpensive - popular with students

Tagliatelle a ragu bologonese - the real deal!

6.50 euros - can you believe that

Who wants fine dining - great simple food is better - very delicious, no fuss.

Cost for lunch - two  ragu, two glasses of red wine - less than 20 euros, for world class cooking - yay!

Osteris dell' Orsa sells its handmade pasta in a small shop next door - the small elderly pasta maker was quite formidable, she spoke no English so called upon her younger assistant to serve us. Buying some is a serious business, they were reluctant to sell us any until we assured them that we would be catching the bus within an hour and the precious fiori agli asparagi would be refrigerated immediately

We bought 250g of the Fiori agli Asparagi 

We  returned around threeish as last night's insomnia caught up with us. The food at Osteria dell' Orso was superb we agreed, the city itself beautiful. We cooked the pasta precisely as instructed - place in pan of water, bring to the boil, turn off the heat as soon as the water boils and leave for two minutes - then serve with olive oil and spinkle with parmesan, or a melted butter and parmesan - Perfecto!

Simple, but beautiful ingredients

gently cooked to retain flavour

served with a sptig of fresh basil

picked from our portable herb garden - we live well on our wanderings.

 Later that evening I found myself declaring today, 8th June, international ragù day.

There are sillier commemorations - tomorrow is the Queen's official birthday, I ask you, what has done more for the well being and happiness of humanity in general, ragù bolognese or the British monarchy?