Beyond the status quo – lunch at Franco Rossi
Ben on Wednesday 17 February
In Italy last week with broadcaster Olly Smith; we were travelling to Sicily, but elected (foolishly as it turned out) to travel via Bologna so that we could fly out of Gatwick, and ignore the only direct Sicily flight which goes from Stansted – well, it’s another country, innit? I should have heeded Owen’s advice. Our group winemaker flies in and out of Italy pretty much every week, and so knows that the more flights you’re booked on which go via or to Italy, the less likely you are to get anywhere at the time you expect to. So it transpired; four days before the flight I received an email telling me that the onward flight from Bologna to Palermo had been moved from 1 hour after our arrival to five hours after arrival.
But there is one silver lining. Bologna’s airport is only a twenty minute cab ride from the Piazza Maggiore in the centre of the city. So we decided to investigate this city of ancient skyscrapers. And as it was lunchtime, my Italian colleague Elisa texted me the name of a restaurant we could eat happily in. ‘Franco Rossi‘ rang a few bells – wasn’t that the name of Status Quo’s famously pony-tailed rhythm guitarist? Perhaps he was branching into fine Italian dining; we secretly hoped not. The restaurant was quiet, but then it was Monday lunchtime. We were greeted by a suave maitre d’ (something that every restaurant in Italy worth its salt seems to have) and quickly were perusing the menu. To my delight it was clear that seafood was a house speciality. I opted for risotto primavera to start, followed by lobster pasta – and wasn’t disappointed. The lobster came ‘clawed up’ – as if to prove they hadn’t got it out of a jar… no worries there. Olly followed a palate-sharpening pink grapefruit and artichoke salad with truffle dressing, with a sublime plate of – what else? Spaghetti Bolognese. We were in Bologna after all.
We drank a bottle of Pecorino (’sounds like a cheese, tastes like a Sauvignon’) and passed on dessert and coffee – we had a plane to catch (or so we thought). Chef appeared, suitably broad, hirsuite and grumpy-looking, from the kitchen. We sauntered into the mid afternoon sunshine, replete and happy. When we got back to Bologna airport, we found that our Meridiana flight to Palermo had entered a twilight world of delays – which we didn’t escape until 8.30pm that night. Good thing we had a great lunch. In the words of the Quo: “Again, again, again, again…”