This story originally appeared on the Gents Cafe Newsletter. You can subscribe here.
It is early afternoon. The sun is setting over Rio di San Trovaso, bathing the canal in golden light. I take a hearty bite of my cicchetto and sip my ombra [shadow], a small glass of white wine. I look at my wife with a blissful smile. We are enjoying the perfect moment. What I don’t know yet is that there are more to come. Every cicchetto, every ombra, every visit to a Venetian bacaro will be one.
In a bacaro, a small Venetian pub, time ticks differently. A piece of baccalà [stockfish] on toasted bread, a sip of wine, the light of the lagoon in my glass—and I forget time. Let’s call it “Dolce Far Niente”.
It’s a break from life, for life. No, it is life. Cicchetti are symbols of life themselves: simple, honest, built on a robust foundation, but with room for beauty, taste and imagination.
I eat my first cicchetti in the Dorsoduro district, at the Osteria al Squero—or rather in front of the Osteria. It is usually well frequented, so you look for a spot by the canal. There are no chairs in the Osteria anyway.
We eat our cicchetti overlooking one of Venice’s oldest boat yards, the Squero di San Trovaso. In my mind’s eye, I see Roger Moore as James Bond in Moonraker racing past the shipyard. In reality, things are much quieter. Occasionally, a gondola passes by or a goods transport makes its way through.
Life in Venice has its own unique rhythm: it is slower and quieter. It seems to flow like the water that makes the city so special. No cars, no traffic—instead, the quiet splashing of the canals, the calls of a gondoliere, the clinking of glasses in a bacaro. Everything moves at a leisurely pace, as if the city itself wants to remind us that haste is the greatest enemy of enjoyment.
In this enjoyment, I find my form of happiness. Again and again I am drawn to the bar—white wine and cicchetti don’t cost much, and the numerous cicchetti on display must all be tried. It doesn’t stop at just one either. And so the moment in the Osteria al Squero lasts a very long time, but eventually comes to an end. Blissfully, we move on, but only for a few metres.
The next bacaro, the Cantina del Vino Già Schiavi, is already waiting. We go in. Just for a moment, a break. And so the evening ripples along: from bacaro to bacaro, from break to break, from moment to moment. A life in the here and now. Perfect.
Footnote: Cicchetti (also known as cichetti or cicheti in Venice) are small, typical Venetian bruschette. They are usually topped with fish, vegetables, meat, or marinated specialities. There are countless variations. Cicchetti are traditionally served in Venetian bacari (simple wine bars) or osterie. They are usually enjoyed standing up with an ombra (glass of white wine) or a Spritz, and embody the uncomplicated, sociable and enjoyable Venetian way of life.
