The restaurants lining via Garibaldi are opening up — at least as far as they can, which is summed up in a word: “Takeaway.” I hear that the coronavirus-adaptive procedures at restaurants here are essentially the same in the U.S. these days, but still thought I’d show how the local places, and a bar and a pastry shop, are starting to make do while awaiting the next directives on their future. A hint has already been released that restaurants and hair salons may be allowed to open before June 1, to universal rejoicing.
Here is a look at ViaGaribaldiWorld and environs at the moment, as seen through hungry eyes (those of the customer, as well as the proprietor).
Majer was the first shop I noticed that was starting to spread its commercial wings, so to speak. Once a small family bakery, it is now a local chain that sells bread, cookies, pastries, and some modest additions (small pizzas, soup, sandwiches) as well. The outside tables are always full in the summer, but obviously we can’t be waiting for the jeunesse doree’ to come back. I’m not a frequent customer — the space is awkward, the staff apathetic and disagreeable, the prices unreasonable even by Venice standards, but hey — after ten weeks of your own cooking, I could see the appeal.Mostly finger food is available, which is what you’d expect from basically a bakery. Bread, pizza (those would be small pizzas, the size of a flattened baseball), first courses (meaning pasta or rice, which can also be served cold), “salty cakes,” more like pies,that usually involve a crust and a cheese or other filling, and arancini, or fried spheres the size of unflattened baseballs made of compressed rice, sometimes with a filling.This is the sort of pizza (called “pizzette,” or little pizzas) I am referring to, although these aren’t from Majer, but from the window of “El Forner,” a bakery near campo San Giovanni e Bragora.“Take-Away” needs no translation, but they just want to make sure you’re not imagining you can have your sacred spritz at the bar. “Bar Service Closed.” Then the usual terms are listed: The opening hours and days, the requirement that only one person enter at a time, the wearing of mask and gloves.“Nevodi” is Venetian for “nipoti,” which means both “nephews” and “nieces” (the preposition tells you which it is) and also means “grandsons” and “granddaughters.” (Don’t blame me. Evidently the word-coining machine broke down and everyone decided just to make do with what they had.) Speaking of coining words, the yellow sign introduces a new one: “Nevodita’.” Interpreting the suffix in the usual way, it indicates “state of being of.” (“Venezianita’,” the quality or essence of Venetian-ness,) So they’ve created a word for the special state of being that their cuisine inspires.When Nevodi was preparing its transformation to takeaway, some explanation was in order. For several days before May 5, this helpful sign was posted at the door: “On Tuesday May 5 we’ll start takeaway,” they wrote in Italian. Then, in Venetian, they added: “Che saria el Porta Via” (che sarebbe il Portare Via) — “that would be take away”). The sign continues: “During the next few days I’ll explain to you how it works.”This is the procedure, here and at most of the other restaurants: “For reservations, please send a message with your order, the time and your name for pickup. Once you have received our confirmation, all you need to do is come by at the agreed time. For anyone who doesn’t use WhatsApp, you can telephone at both of the numbers on the little card here.” They have added a glamorous extra feature: “If you want to receive the daily menu via WhatsApp, send a message on WhatsApp to (number and name and surname). “Nevodi: Ready with the list of wines taped on the bar. There is a prohibition against drinking outside these establishments, so I don’t know how to interpret the bottles and glasses. But the barista is happy. “I’m smiling,” he said behind his mask. “I can tell,” I answered.People began to stop, and orders undoubtedly followed. Maybe they’re waiting to pick up the orders that they had already made. But I also saw people stopping in front of restaurants seemingly just to talk to each other, whether or not they were customers in the common sense. It would seem that places with food and drink magnetically draw people to each other. An industry expert said openly that one of the purposes of the takeaway phase isn’t just to try to scrape up money for the light bills (my phrasing), but to create and maintain links with their customers. Jump-start the instincts that send you out of the house in search of something different to nosh, an instinct that has been dormant far too long.Most places make it clear that you are not allowed to consume your purchase anywhere near the establishment. Outside Hopera the instinct to stand around with your drink is just too strong, but there would have been fines if any roaming policeman had seen this.
“Strani” bar has been offering delivery of kits for making your favorite aperitivi, neatly packaged in little glass flacons. Mojito, Caipirinha, Caipiroska, Americano, Negroni, Long Island, Sex on the Beach, can be yours starting at only 3 euros each, but the minimum order is 20 euros. (It’s not clear whether they include the ice or not.) They deliver anywhere in Castello, which is impressive, considering that Castello is the largest sestiere in Venice.Gelato is a special challenge for takeaway — it’s one thing for your hot food to arrive at your home cold, but it’s another for something cold…you see my point. It is absolutely forbidden to eat gelato, like any other food, on the street, so takeaway means employing special styrofoam boxes that manage to keep the gelato cold for a reasonable time. The Gelateria Crystal is offering the most basic, fundamental flavors AND home delivery (yes!).A gelateria at Sant’ Antonin makes the terms very clear. The chalkboard shows the hours, mentions gelato and crepes, and “DA PORTARE VIA!” (to take away).“Just Take Away — Only takeaway boxes. No cones, no cups. Please maintain the security distance and use the protective devices stipulated by the current regulations in force.” Impressive, as long as you know what those are. Do we have a failed law student here? The same amount of time and energy, and perhaps even individual letters, could have produced the much simpler and more common “wear mask and gloves.”The Bar/pastry shop Chiusso, in Salizzada dei Greci, has managed to keep going by selling some of its products in the fresh-pasta-and-expensive-condiments shop on the other side of the street. They’ve used a few other stratagems too, such as home delivery. They have a clientele (including us) that would require an hour on the rack to reach the point of renouncing their pastries.They too are now surviving on takeaway business, as per the sign: “From Monday May 4 the shop will be open from 9:00 AM to 2:00 PM for your order pickups.” The sign above it is also reassuring: “Seeing the appreciation that you have shown us we have decided to continue with home delivery of the products you can order by calling 333-236-9322. Heartfelt thanks.” (That would be “Grazie di cuore,” with the heart symbol. Sweet.)The Trattoria alla Rampa is getting ready to start takeaway. The signs on their window, from left to right, are: The standard list of conditions issued by the Venetian association of public services. Then the set menus, which I will let you practice your Italian in translating. The third sign states: “We advise our valued customers that the takeaway menu will be offered starting May 11. We ask that you book your meals at this phone number 041-528-5365. We ask that you book on the preceding day from 9:00 AM to 3:00 PM. From Monday to Saturday. On Friday and Saturday you can book for Monday. Thank you for your kind attention.”These are the rules as laid out by the Venetian Association of Public Services: “Selling for takeaway: Only via booking. Phone, or write us a message on WhatsApp, or email. Agree on the time to come pick up your order. Wait your turn respecting the distance of one meter. Enter one person at a time, maximum. Always wear mask and gloves. Eat at home or in the office what you’ve bought.”Notice to our Clients: To guarantee a rapid and safe takeaway service: Respect the distance of interpersonal security of at least one meter. Use the mask inside the restaurant. It is not permitted to consume the takeaway products inside or outside the restaurant. As soon as you’ve concluded your transaction (i.e., got your order in your hands), we invite you not to stop near the restaurant.” That’s a rule in general, but it has survival connotations here, because the trattoria is in front of the fruit and vegetable boat, where people have already accumulated, on a stretch of fondamenta that accommodates the fish market and the wine shop. As everywhere, customers, and their dogs and children, are lined up outside awaiting their “one person maximum” moment to enter, which would leave exactly zero space for standing around eating. There’s barely space to get through the scrum as it is. However, I predict that the broad balustrade at the end of the canal will be everybody’s go-to table. At least until the vigili show up.I rest my case. On the balustrade. I predict that this will become a table in five seconds.On this morning’s walk, I saw something I haven’t seen since quarantine began: Trash — specifically, the enticing, fragrant, food-related trash that seagulls cannot resist. Conclusion: Not everybody who takes food away brings it all the way home. I don’t know where they’re eating it, but this is where the remains are being disposed of. It may be a shock to the garbage collectors, who essentially had nothing to do on this fondamenta for two months.
While some people have been working themselves up about the mobs of tourists in Venice (tourists in Venice? I’m shocked! Shocked!) our little lobe of the city has quietly tiptoed away, its denizens going to the mountains, Hammerfest, Saskatoon, the Tuvan Grasslands, anywhere but here where they can enjoy a little peace and quiet and — I hope — not to have become tourists in turn, if you take my meaning.
Between Ferragosto (August 15, as you know) and the onslaught of the Film Festival is this small sliver of time which is like a deep, peaceful breath. Even though the heat continues to enervate us, night and day —
If, for some reason, you lost your mind and decided to come to Venice in August, your main survival tool is liquids. Lots of them, as you see.
— there is an atmosphere of restfulness along via Garibaldi which is almost like vacation in itself. And that is because many of the shops are closed. Temporary inconvenience to the few remaining inhabitants is more than mitigated by the tranquillity, and besides, it’s not as if ALL the fruit-and-vegetable sellers are gone, and yes, there is one butcher left who can slice you some pork chops. In any case, we now have the mastodontic Coop supermarket to take up the slack (open every day from 8:00 AM to 10:00 PM, if you can believe it), manned by staff which does not always look happy to be helping, which I can understand even though they do have air-conditioning.
Let me take you on a brief perambulation of via Garibaldi, rejoicing in the “closed for vacation” (ferie) signs on the windows and doors. It’s as if the supposedly avaricious and insatiable merchants had all suddenly said, “Nah, we don’t care. We should stay here sweltering just on the chance that SOMEBODY might wander in, even by mistake?” Because most of their regular customers are also far away. I’m only here because I have to be, but I get to enjoy this moment and they don’t.
You’ll have to go somewhere else until August 21 to buy laundry detergent, lipstick, rubber kitchen gloves, or a bucket and mop — the everything-store is shut. You should have thought about needing that shampoo or scouring powder sooner.Now is not the moment to be caught without underwear or dish towels or handkerchiefs. The dry-goods ladies aren’t coming back till the 28th.No shoes, even on sale (“saldi”) until the 21st.Anything in the optical line, from high-class sunglasses to replacing a screw to a bottle of contact-lens wetting solution is unobtainable until the 21st. Still, he’s only taking a week. That seems very, very short to me. I could wait for the lens-wiping cloth a little longer.Just as soon as you got used to the fact that this hair salon was open only in from 8:30 – 12:30 in July and August, they go and close altogether. Still, they only took four days off, which I think is extremely strange and unreasonably short, and I, personally, would not have advised it.But we are evidently expected to walk around with our heads wrapped in scarves because, as you see, the OTHER salon (yes, there are two) has also elected to go relax everything up to and including their hair, somewhere else.The toys-and-school-supplies-and-paper-goods store is giving itself three weeks off. Once school starts again they’ll have more than plenty to do. If you need an eraser or some lead for your mechanical pencil, too bad.The butcher has put the prosciutto away, and if you’re pining to make fegato alla veneziana you’ll just have to wait. Eat some clams or some scrambled eggs meanwhile, or trek down the street to Alberto the butcher, who is hanging tough. Better yet, have some gelato. That’s one type of shop that couldn’t possibly close in the summer.Well, that settles that. You absolutely cannot have any problem either with your computer or your cell phone until Gianni gets back. There is no Plan B. The mere sight of this sign makes me cower.Want to play the lottery or buy some smokes? You’ll have to go back up the street to the other two places that will provide you with these vital services because the mother and her eccentric son in this emporium are somewhere else. They have helpfully given two alternate shops, but I can’t understand why they didn’t list the one two minutes down from the top of via Garibaldi. Perhaps they’re involved in a feud. It happens.The indefatigable Fabio at the Trattoria alla Rampa is off Work A (feeding people) but only in order to exhaust himself doing Work B, otherwise known as “maintenance.” He knows what it’s going to be like when the Film Festival starts and he’s going to be ready — to be precise, on September 4.Some shops don’t need signs. Everybody knows this is a pastry shop, and everybody knows that pastry shops pretty much close for some time in August. The reason: Cream just doesn’t have the same appeal at room temperature as it does frozen and sitting in a cone. Everything is hard to work with in the heat, from chocolate to your business partner.The faithful and doomed-to-be-photographed-forever fruit and vegetable boat. Massimo and Luca used to clear away all the boxes and crates when they went on vacation, and the sight of the bare deck was a strange and memorable moment in the waning summer days. But as you see, they just said the heck with it. Yes, there are two other produce sellers on the street, but I can tell you that they are nowhere near the same quality. So we soldier on……but not particularly encouraged by the ominous note at the bottom: “To reopen on 25 August. Maybe.”Giorgio’s boat might as well have a sign on it because when he’s in Venice he goes out fishing virtually every single day, barring typhoons of either the meteorological or domestic type. To see the boat tied up in broad daylight is to know that the world has stopped.
