Trattoria Ermes, Modena

We’d arrived in Modena (a two and a half hour drive from Genoa) just before lunchtime. We’d read in the guidebook about a couple of traditional trattorie which sounded appealing, and when we asked at the hotel they recommended “Ermes”, and phoned on our behalf to make a reservation, as this was the kind of place which sold out fast, and where people queued outside for the chance of a table.

Our place secured, we set off immediately and five minutes later made our way into a tiny, packed room off a nondescript street. Our eponymous host placed us on a table next to another young couple (her: Tuscan, him: Modenese) and quickly and rather brusquely informed us of the dishes available. This being a home cooking kind of place the options were few and simple. You pay a flat fee of 20 Euro regardless of what you eat, but you have the right to three courses, water, bread, wine and coffee.

I didn’t want to interrupt the experience too much (and was maybe a little intimidated by the close quarters and proximity of the other diners) so I only took a few iPhone photos of the dishes. A longer post (in Italian) with more pictures of the room and Ermes himself can be found here. My wife chose the cavatelli in brodo as a starter:

I went for the maccheroni; oven baked pasta with a very crunchy dark crust on top. Good, moreish comfort food for a cold February lunch time.

For the main course I had rabbit with boiled potatoes. Nothing groundbreaking, and rather starkly presented, but the meat was tender and well seasoned and tasty.

We finished with a kind of light, sweet pastry which is traditional at Carnival time and goes variously by the name of bugie, frappe, or chiacchere among other regional variants.

So, the food was simple, honest, tasty fare. Nothing spectacular, but popular with those who like traditional regional specialities prepared in the same way their grandmothers used to do it. But perhaps what made it a more memorable experience was Ermes himself. He’s quite the local celebrity and he probably exaggerates his moods swings and outsized personality at least a little in order to keep his clientele entertained. A few examples: at one point his elderly aunt stopped by for a bite to eat. He dumped her at the end of a large table full of strangers and they bickered with each other sporadically throughout the meal. During our main course someone on the table behind ours wanted to know what a particular dish was like, so Ermes picked up my wife’s plate, as she was in the middle of raising a forkful to her mouth, held it out in front of the other diners for them to glance at, then plonked it back on our table.

On the wall there’s a chart indicating his mood that day. The text at top left says “For those of you who drink to forget, please pay in advance”.

This was undoubtedly good for a few laughs, and the warm atmosphere and conversation we shared with the other couple on our table meant that the social aspect of the meal was at least as important and enjoyable as the actual food. There are a lot of press clippings on the walls and I wondered whether Ermes’ celebrity was overshadowing the restaurant itself. Had it turned into a magnet for the tourist horde (of which, of course, we ourselves were a part) who wanted a caricatured Italian shouting and gesturing and flinging plates of hot pasta around?

But on the other hand we were the only non-locals there that day, so I don’t think his popularity can be put down to catering to foreigners’ expectations. The “character” of the place is certainly a little self-conscious, maybe even a little exaggerated and theatrical, but no less genuine for that. And I did enjoy the food. Of the reviews on sites like Trip Advisor the negative ones expressed mainly disappointment with the food itself, which they felt didn’t match the restaurant’s reputation, and the flat 20 Euro fee which applied even if all they ate was a plate of pasta. But if you’re in the mood for something simple and tasty and filling, and don’t mind a bit of noise and bustle and shouting, it’s a bargain.

And by the time we left a queue was starting to form outside…

Terborght

A friend had recommended the restaurant Terborght (one Michelin star) to us a while back, so when we noticed that Groupon were offering a tasting menu for two at a very attractive price we jumped at it. In fact this is the first time we’ve seen a starred restaurant using Groupon, but I guess they’re more and more keen these days to try special promotions and discounts (RestoPass, RestoDays, etc) to get customers through the door.

Here’s our menu, for those of you who can understand (or Google translate) Dutch. The only thing here we didn’t get was the ham and melon, but I could live with that.

Our first amuse-bouche was sardine and radish. Fresh and sharp and tasty.

Foie gras with onion chutney. Fine, but the foie gras was a little cold and hard.

This one was the first in a series of dishes to use a presentational novelty. A flat plate for one dish, which serves as a lid for a warm dish in a bowl underneath. Two variations on cockles.

And then one of the best selections. The chorizo “pizza” on the right was fine, but the tomato macaroon in the middle was lovely.

On to the main courses, and this was undoubtedly the highlight of the meal. It’s just tomato and shrimp, as traditional a starter as you’re likely to get in Belgium, but the use of different coloured varieties of tomato and the slightly “deconstructed” presentation, along with the quality of the ingredients made this a winner.

And of course this was just the lid, covering the selection of shrimp, egg, croutons and avocado inside.

Another course, another lid: a slice of eel with apple, meringue and balsamic blobs.

And in the bowl underneath another Belgian classic: eel in green sauce. No complaints here either, although the traditional version comes in a slightly larger portion.

Another wacky presentation for the consommé, which was covered with a crusty dome.

Once broken, the aroma of the pigeon broth wafts free, and crumbs from the dome fall in to give you something to chew on.

Oxtail with truffle and a soft-boiled egg. Probably the evening’s only failure. It looks rather unfortunate, like something that’s been dropped rather than constructed, the egg yolk smothered the flavour of the oxtail, and the truffle was lost completely.

But we were back on track with the final meat course: pheasant with endive and sprouts. Beautiful tender meat.

Unfortunately things ended on a slightly sour note (ironic, as we were at the dessert stage). Service had slowed down enormously throughout the meal, and we’d already had an interminable wait for the pheasant. It was getting late and snow was starting to fall pretty heavily, so I enquired as to how much longer the rest of the meal would take, throwing in a casual reference to our babysitter as justification. The head waiter got the impression that I was saying we had to leave ASAP, and gave me the option of skipping any remaining courses. One of the two desert courses would be ready almost immediately, whereas the other would take more time, so I told her we’d like the quick one only. We received our plates of cold, citrus-flavoured sorbets and ice cream shortly afterwards, and the bill almost immediately.

Service had been a little spotty throughout, to be honest. We’d been served by three different staff, one of whom was obviously in charge and spoke to us in English when she heard us doing so, another who spoke in Dutch (which we managed to follow), and a third who barely spoke two words to us in any language, and who plonked our plates down in front of us without any explanation as to what we were about to eat.

Still, these slips aside, it was an enjoyable meal of modern versions of Belgian classics.

Beasts of the Southern Wild

As my daughters (aged 6 and 8) get older it’s interesting to see how and when they graduate from “kiddie” material (as regards books, TV and films) to older, more complex stuff. Recently I’ve been trying out some films on them which aren’t necessarily targeted at them, but which they might appreciate. With that in mind, this weekend I took them to see Beasts of the Southern Wild.

Beforehand I’d checked out the “Parental Guide” page on IMDB to see if there was anything in the film I didn’t want them to see, but all they mentioned was a little mild profanity (“Shit” and “damn”), an intense storm scene, some animal carcasses, and a splash of blood. One user says there’s some nudity from behind, but that’s incorrect (although even if there were, I think they could stand the sight of a bare bum with being psychologically scarred). I was surprised to see that it’s rated 12A in the UK, as I think a PG rating is plenty, and my girls certainly weren’t disturbed by anything in this film.

Interestingly the film itself deals with growing up, as a five-year-old girl living in harsh conditions has to learn self-reliance, confidence and independence and trying to understand her place in the universe. For a supposedly adult film it’s told almost entirely from the small child’s point of view, complete with heightened perceptions and imaginary monsters. Initially my daughters were unsure about it, partly I think because it was so different in style and approach from the things they’re used to seeing. Halfway through one of them turned to me and said “I don’t want you to buy this film” [on DVD]. But by the end they’d changed their minds and had really gotten into it. They had a lot of questions, and we talked afterwards about poverty, people who live on their own and who don’t want help from outsiders, even when their health or safety are threatened, and about why the father seemed angry all the time and what “tough love” is.

On the whole I’d say it was a pretty successful experiment, and while they’re not ready to ditch Disney just yet, I’ll be keeping my eyes open for other alternatives to Hollywood CG cartoons in the future. Especially things like this which open their eyes to other cultures and ways of life.

The one thing you need to be aware of when taking kids to non-kid films at the cinema, however, is the trailers, which are likely to be for other, more “adult” films. My heart sank when the trailer for Quentin Tarantino’s violent (duh) western Django Unchained came on. Thankfully it was only a brief, non-violent teaser featuring plenty of shooting but no blood. The 6yo said “I don’t want to see that film. It’s all about guns”.

Spider Sematary

Some time back one of my daughters accompanied me down to the basement on an errand, and caught a glimpse through an open door into a small room we never use. As it’s pretty much abandoned the spiders have free reign, and the place is full of cobwebs. It obviously made an impression as she kept talking about “The Spider Room”, and her elder sister became envious and demanded to see it for herself (perhaps reminded by last weekend’s trip to the spider show at the African museum).

Today as I was working from home she asked again, so once she’d fulfilled her part of the bargain (finishing her homework) I took a ten minute break and took her downstairs for a look. In addition to the expected cobwebs and musty smell, after a while I spotted a spider. Or at least, what I thought was a spider. What puzzled me was that it was bright white.

I guessed it was an empty, dessicated spider corpse. But as I looked closer, I realised that the ceilings and walls were covered with these ghost spiders, just hanging there as if left behind by Miss Havisham.

The photos are a little misleading as in fact it’s almost pitch black in there, and only the magic of Photoshop allows us to see anything at all.

This is now probably the coolest room in our house.

Stuffed and pickled

We spent a couple of hours in the local African Museum this morning, ostensibly to visit the Spider exhibition. This was fun and high on the “Ewww!” factor for our kids, although it was interesting to note that half the fun came in trying to locate the various specimens inside their glass cases. Once spotted, there wasn’t much to see as they were all virtually immobile.

Paradoxically the traditional stuffed and embalmed animals attracted me more, mostly for reasons related to the manner of their preservation. For example, how long does it take to stuff a full-grown hippo?

The baby hippo looks disturbed/ing.

Something about the chimps’ faces was a little off.

I’m no good at reading chimps’ facial expressions, but I’d guess this one’s not too happy.

And then in the next room, a phantasmagorical collection of snakes in jars. Beautiful.

I loved not only the selection of species but the variety of poses.

Probably my favourite.

Almost eating its own tail.

Helical.

Gasping for air.

Token disgruntled frog.

 

Yes, yes, feel free to make a froggy Gangnam Style joke.

Don’t talk to strangers

I was sat in the work canteen, eating my lunch while reading a book about English habits. Specifically I was reading the section on how the English are reluctant to strike up conversations with strangers, except under certain special circumstances.

I put the book down so as to cut up my food and the man sat opposite me – an Englishman, no less – noticed the title of the book and started asking me about it. We chatted for some twenty minutes, comparing experiences as English expats and noting cultural differences. Maybe we’re exceptions to those rules to some extent, due to having spent prolonged periods abroad and having been contaminated with foreignness, but still, the irony of the timing couldn’t have been better.

Dredd

Last night I saw the new Dredd movie. As a kid I’d read some (although not all) of the comics. Enough to be able to judge (ha) if any cinematic adaptation had got it “right” or not. Plus, I’d seen the much derided 1995 Sylvester Stallone version, so I could compare with that too.

By the way, Stallone’s version can be seen in its entirety here:

The new version is very much a product of its time, which is to say that it’s gritty and downbeat and takes itself a little too seriously. It does get Dredd himself pretty much right, or at least more right than Stallone did. I liked the way they laughed off any attempt to dig deeper into Dredd’s character in an early scene when the psychic Judge Anderson tries to read his mind. She says that he has enormous self-control, but that there’s something else behind it, something…only to be interrupted by her boss and told that it won’t be necessary to continue.

I did start thinking, both during and after, about how to view Dredd and the judges as a whole. People make comparisons with Dirty Harry and call him a “fascist“, but I think that’s a lazy, knee-jerk response from people who view any form of authority or control as fascistic. Harry Callahan was a maverick who decided to take the law into his own hands and make his own decisions about who deserved to live or die. Dredd is simply a product of the system, which itself is an extraordinary response to an extraordinary situation (the collapse of society). You can argue about the appropriateness of that response, but you can’t blame Dredd himself. As the film takes pains to point out, he only wants to serve his city and he follows the rules to the letter, never overstepping the bounds of his authority.

The violence may concern some. It’s quite spectacularly bloody, and gratuitously so. I guess they felt it was necessary in order to portray this chaotic, amoral society where life is cheap, but mostly I feel they just thought that it would look really cool in super slo-mo 3D. I found the 3D itself, as usual, to be occasionally impressive, occasionally irrritating, and mostly forgettable.

The things I think are missing from both film versions so far are some of the things I enjoyed about the comics: the absurdity, humour and fantastical elements. The comics show us a much larger world than “Dredd” could afford on its relatively small budget, full of mutants and supernatural beings and the various weird tribes inhabiting both Mega-City 1 and the Cursed Earth outside. I’d love to think that sequels could expand into these realms, but I get the feeling that that would be at odds with the fairly straight and stripped-down approach they’ve taken in this film.

Maybe I should just go back and read the comics again.