Bologna: an excuse to eat that childhood favourite

Sometime in my early adulthood, I graduated to prosciutto and dried salamis, leaving the humble bologna of my childhood behind. But in Bologna, Italy, it’s called mortadella. And suddenly, bologna-eaters are upscale, with permission to indulge openly in all the forms of that deli meat that the city offers.

And we did! We flew into Bologna (headed for Verona) and had 24 hours to taste test the city’s best.

In a country that’s known for excellent food, the city of Bologna is considered a food-lover’s paradise, with top-notch fresh-food markets, salumerias, cheese shops, bars, restaurants and street food stalls. Not only that, but Bologna is in the Italian region of Emilia-Romagna, which boasts a high concentration of DOP (Protected Designation of Origin) and IGP (Protected Geographical Indication) food products. That means foods such as Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, Parma ham, traditional balsamic vinegar from Modena, squacquerone cheese, and mortadella are protected by law and made to specific production protocols.

One of Bologna’s nicknames is La Grassa [The Fat One] and I knew I’d risk deserving that moniker as well after two weeks in Italy. But it would be worth it.

We arrived in Bologna at dinner time and immediately set out to sample, starting with pasta – and mortadella!

Tamburini

Tamburini fed us well. Note the iron butcher hooks dangling from the ceiling.

The two foods I most associated with the city were bologna and spaghetti Bolognese. Of course, you must never call them that. In Bologna, it’s mortadella and ragu meat sauce on tagliatelle.

Tamburini’s winebar offered both, and we quickly learned that they’re nothing like what we’d grown up with in Canada. In business since 1932, Tamburini is a combo salumeria, formaggio, café and winebar known for its authentic Bolognese dishes.

Excited to be in Bologna, we ordered a lot:

• An appetizer of very thinly sliced mortadella studded with peppercorns and squares of lard. We laid the mortadella in curvaceous piles on slices of fresh bread and chewed contemplatively. A much more refined and complex taste than thick Oscar Mayer bologna. Tamburini’s website explains how to make the best mortadella, using pure pork and spices. “Mortadella is served as a cured meat, sliced ​​among the appetizers and is a fundamental ingredient of many Bolognese dishes: from tortellini to stecchini alla petroniana, from mousse to meatloaf. In buffets it often appears cut into cubes, together with flakes of parmesan cheese and streghino cheese,” the website explained.
• Another appetizer of baked artichokes – really tasty. The server said the word “artichoke” is hard for Italians to pronounced in English, just as the Italian word – carciofi – is hard for us to pronounce.
• A glass of Lambrusco – a very light sparkly red wine, not unlike a Portuguese vinho verde. Not bad but it lacked enough body for me.
• An Italian wheat draft beer for Bill.
• Ragu meat sauce over ribbon-shaped tagliatelle pasta. All the hype was correct. It’s nothing like tomatoey spaghetti Bolognese sprinkled with dry Kraft parmesan. Instead, the ragu is just slightly tomatoey, slow cooked with minced beef, pancetta, onions, carrots, milk and wine. It’s all about the meat. The flat ribbon-shaped tagliatelle provides more surface area than skinny spaghetti noodles for the rich sauce to stick. I offered Bill a bite, but I really didn’t want to share, it was so good.
• Lasagna with green spinach noodles for Bill. Again, meat was the focus, not the cheese or tomato as we’re used to in North America. The Parm was in a middle layer, not on top.

Replete after this superb repast, we took a quick look around as the staff prepared to close. The shop’s display cases were stuffed with bulging packages of mortadella; rounds and triangles and pyramids of Parmiggiano Reggiano aged 20 months, and all the way up to 50 months; and fresh pastas galore, including the much-lauded hand-rolled tortellini stuffed with mortadella.

In the back, iron hooks dangled from a track on the ceiling, left over from the days when freshly slaughtered pigs were hung right there in the shop to age, destined to become mortadella.  

Window shopping

After our filling dinner at Tamburini, we wandered the streets and peered in windows, making note of places to return the next day.

Simply wandering the narrow streets and alleys in Bologna’s central historic district and peering in the windows of all the salumerias, pasta shops, cheese shops, delis, and bakeries is a joy. Legs of prosciutto hung in lines like fat icicles. Prepared salads of grilled peppers and marinated artichokes, wine bottles lined up on shelves, piles of meringues, packages of dried mushrooms, jars of olives and pickled vegetables – despite our full stomachs, we salivated.

As we explored, I pondered Tamburini’s website math about joy versus triglycerides versus life span.

“When we talk about tortellini we praise cholesterol, because once and for all we need to remember that we must die sick,” Tamburini reasoned. “Who calculated how much life will be prolonged with satisfaction? What is the ratio of joy divided by triglycerides for average life?”

They were joking, but the general point is valid: good food should be enjoyed, as should life.

Cremeria Cavour

We found room for gelato, followed by drinks before bedtime.

Italian gelato! When is it not a good time for joyful gelato?

When we were in Rome and southern Italy in 2016, we had gelato every day. During this trip, starting that night in Bologna, we made it a tradition. Cremeria Cavour, conveniently open until 11:30 p.m., did not disappoint. I had fragola [strawberry] while Bill had a scoop each of stracciatella and pistachio. Sublime. We sat on a bench in a darkening park and listened to a three-piece band play.    

Birreria Popolare

Although reviews had promised good service from bartenders, we found Birreria Popolare’s quite inattentive. He served others who’d arrived well after us, then began putting glasses away and poured himself a beer even after Bill went over to stand where he could clearly be seen.

We finally received our drinks – one of the many artisanal beers on tap for Bill and a Montenegro for me. All males faced the TV screen to watch the soccer futbol game as we sipped our drinks at the bar.

Montenegro is a liqueur, a digestive, made in Bologna from a secret blend of 40 ingredients. I liked it – not too sweet, with an herbal taste.

Al Regno Della Forma

Al Regno Della Forma is heaven for Parmigiano-Reggiano lovers.

We tried to get up early the next morning but kept hitting the snooze button. We were tired, but in a happy way after our wanderings the night before.

On our way to find coffee, we stopped in at Al Regno Della Forma. As lovers of Parmigiano-Reggiano, we didn’t want to miss this place, since it’s open only from 7:30 a.m. to 1 p.m.

Although some other cheeses and a few meats are sold, the giant wheels of Parm reign supreme. Stacked on wooden shelves and piled on the floor, the wheels gave off their enticingly nutty aroma.

We asked for a triangle of 24-month-old Parm and, as the clerk cut it, we could see the rough texture with crystal-like chunks of nutty goodness. Mmmmmm.

Caffè Terzi

This narrow café, which roasts its own coffees, offered excellent cappuccino and croissants so flaky-crispy you’d think you were in Paris. I savoured a crema-filled croissant while Bill opted for chocolate filling. We examined the vintage décor, displayed ceramics, and the big silver samovar in the corner.

Bidibo

Later, we had our second coffees (we always have two) at Bidibo café. The cappuccino at Caffè Terzi was better, but the ambiance at Bidibo was livelier – piano music played and we had a view onto Piazza Maggiore.

Salumeria Simoni

Salumeria Simoni offered a neat summary – on signs hung high – of the wines, cheeses, salamis and other foodstuffs from the Emilia-Romagna region.

The wide range of cured meats made my head swim, so I appreciated Salumeria Simoni’s signs that summarized them – not just mortadella but also Parma ham, several proscuittos, ciccioli, culatello, salame rosa, salame al tartufo, and pancetta. The education also extended to wines, fresh pastas, cheeses and sandwiches.   

The fourth generation of Simonis now run the delicatessen, restaurant, and store (with online shopping and shipping too) that began in the 1960s in the Quadrilatero market district.   

Quadrilatero market district

Lusciously fresh foods reward those who wander along the Quadrilatero streets.

The Bologna markets confused me at first, but here’s the deal. The Quadrilatero is not a market hall, but rather a market district – a compact grid of narrow streets lined with delis, restaurants, enotecas (wine shops and bars), and fruit and vegetable stalls. There is one market hall – the Mercato di Mezzo – within the Quadrilatero; other market halls, such as the Mercato delle Erbe, are further away.

The Quadrilatero – just east of Piazza Maggiore – sits on what used to be the Roman village, so people have been selling their wares here for 2,000 years. The street names give it away: Via Pescherie Vecchie (Old Fishmongers’ Street), Via Caprarie (Butchers’ Street), Via degli Artieri (Artisans’ Street), Via Calzolerie (Shoe Stores Street), and Via degli Orefici (Goldsmiths’ Street).

We wandered past stalls of fruits and vegetables at their peak of freshness. Trays of glistening fish, octopus, and crustaceans did not smell fishy at all, which told us how fresh they were. Cured legs of prosciutto hanging in delicatessen windows lured us inside to gaze longingly at all the cured meats and tangy cheeses and fresh pastas of all shapes and colours. Small food shops had shelves to the ceiling and display tables overflowing with jarred peppers and artichokes, truffle pasta and truffle rice, chocolate, dried mushrooms. We selected a cellophane tube of truffle risotto mix.

Mercato di Mezzo

A market has been on this spot since medieval times, although the current market building dates from the 1800s – the first covered market in Bologna. Mercato di Mezzo’s doors open onto Via Clavature on one end and Via delle Pescherie Vecchie on the other. Since it was renovated in 2014, it offers small kiosks for food, wine and beer that can be bought and consumed right there, at tables down the centre of the hall or just outside.

We had walked through the market the night before but weren’t that impressed. There’s a pizzeria (Rosso Pomodoro) above and a craft brewery (Baladin) in the basement but the posted menus did not entice us. It reminded us of a smaller version of the Time Out Market in Lisbon.

Murtadela

We shared a cone of mortadella chunks with white squacquerone cheese and chopped pistachios, as well as a sweet rice cake.

Three small street-food shops – Murtadella, Tigellino and Piadeina – sit in a row on Via Calzolerie (Shoe Store Street), offering delicious snacks that can form a meal when you sample them all. We tried our best.

We began at Murtadella, which serves mortadella in a variety of ways. After surveying the extensive menu, we stepped up to the window to order. Sitting on the nearby terrace, we shared a paper cone filled with cubes of mortadella, topped with creamy squacquerone cheese and sprinkled with chopped pistachios.     

Pronounced skwa-kweh-ROW-nay, squacquerone is a tangy, fresh, white cheese not available outside Italy because it’s so perishable. The mortadella chunks were warm, so the cheese melted. We quickly devoured it. Now that’s a form of bologna we’d never encountered before, but I would go out of my way to eat it again. The combination with the cheese reminded us of Canada’s poutine (fries, gravy and cheese curds).

After licking the fork clean, we dug into the torta di riso (sweet rice cake) that we’d bought in a nearby shop (sorry – I can’t remember the name). Baked in an aluminum tart pan, it was similar to a rice pudding with a crème caramel crust atop. Not too sweet. I loved it.

Tigellino

We opted for the gourmet combo of four tigelle, each with different fillings, and a non-alcoholic drink (lemon soda). Plus a Birra Moretti (beer) for Bill.

We perused the menus of Tigellino and neighbouring La Piadeina and decided on Tigellino next. A tigella is a small round flat bread about the size of an English muffin. It’s cooked on a griddle that impresses a flower design on the outside. Then they’re sliced and filled with an array of tempting fillings. You can buy a single tigella or a combo of four tigelle (the plural).

We opted for one of several combos so we could sample four different fillings. As we sampled and shared, we tried to determine which were our favourites, but it was challenging because all were delicious. The pancetta with buffalo cheese and balsamic may have edged out the others, but the sliced mortadella with gorgonzola was a strong contender. And it’s hard to diss the prosciutto with mascarpone and artichokes… or the salami with ricotta and honey. Honestly, further research is required.

I learned later that pig breeding in the Bologna area went back to Roman times, mentions of mortadella dated from the late Renaissance, and the first recipe for mortadella hailed from 1661. That’s a lot of history we consumed.

La Piadeina

A piadina consists of fillings similar to tigelle, but the flatbread holder of said fillings is the size and shape of a pita, with an outside texture resembling a taco. At La Piadeina, we could have had our choices of Parma ham, sausage, grilled pepperoni, scquacquerone cheese, or more mortadella. Once filled, the flatbread is folded and heated to melt the cheese.

However, we were too full by that point. Next time we’re in Bologna…

Acetaia Giusti Boutique Bologna

We tasted many types of balsamic vinegars at the Giusti Boutique. Displays included a wine press and five aging barrels. The Giusti logo still used today was designed in 1900.

I thought I’d had balsamic vinegar, but one taste at Acetaia Giusti Boutique Bologna and I understood that I’d never experienced this elixir before.

The shop in Bologna – an outpost for its main centre in the nearby city of Modena – is part museum, part store, and part tasting centre. While we waited for the shopkeeper to finish with other visitors, we examined the displays and read the information panels.

Traditional balsamic vinegar from Modena goes through a process not unlike winemaking, starting with locally harvested grapes. Giusti uses Trebbiano, Lambrusco, Ancellotta, and Berzemino. The grapes are gently pressed to extract the juice. We saw a wooden antique press, looking somewhat like a barrel, on a table. Then the juice is slowly cooked for many hours until it’s reduced to a sweet brown liquid. Finally, it’s aged over many years in a series of different-sized barrels made of different woods.

The displays also told the history of the Giusti family, which has been making balsamic vinegar in Modena from a family recipe since 1605. Yes, over 17 generations, for 419 years, so far. In 1613, Giusti was given the right to sell his vinegars in Bologna. Over the centuries, the Giustis have participated in exhibitions all over Europe, became the official supplier of balsamic vinegar to the King of Italy, and won countless diplomas and medals.            

The other visitors left, so we stepped over to a table spread with a dozen different bottles, where an informative young man guided us through a balsamic vinegar tasting. He started us with the best: a 12-year-old and a 20-year-old, in the little rounded bottles with rectangular bottoms that signify a traditional balsamic vinegar of Modena DOP. He poured a thick drop of the black gold that formed a glossy mound on our small spoons.

I practically swooned at the first taste: smooth, sweetish, almost fig-like undertone, but with a tang and pleasant aftertaste. All tasted so much richer than the runny, thin balsamics I’d ever had before.

He described the other vinegars on the tables. The tartufo [truffle] flavour is good on scrambled eggs, meats and cheeses. “Just a few drops,” he explained. The vermouth flavour can be sampled over ice or in cocktails.

Then we simply pointed to other bottles and he poured a sample drop onto our outstretched spoons. We quickly discerned differences: the younger ones were not as complex as the older ones. We loved the tartufo (but then again, I love truffles of any variety).

“What woods are the five barrels made from?” I asked.

“Mulberry is the largest,” he replied. “Then cherry, chestnut, oak and juniper.” Most balsamics are aged for a minimum of 12 years in all the barrels, starting with the largest and moving down the line, with each wood adding its flavour.

We bought two small bottles for gifts and a tartufo for us (all small enough to go into carry-on luggage). I gazed longingly at the larger bottles…

What a wonderful place. I think Giusti was my favourite food experience in Bologna.

Osteria del Sole

The Osteria del Sole can be hard to find, since it has no sign out front, just the small word “Vino” so high above the door it’s easy to miss.

The oldest tavern in Bologna, and possibly the world if its website is accurate, has hosted drinkers since 1465 (decades before Columbus set sail across the Atlantic). The Osteria del Sole’s battered tables and mismatched chairs bear witness to that date. The bar serves drinks only, but guests can bring their own food. Don’t forget condiments and cutlery. There’s not even a washroom for handwashing, so a squeeze of Purell is mandatory.

We sat at a chipped green Formica table with our inexpensive, generous pours of red wine and surveyed the premises. Groups of unhurried patrons gave off a good vibe of friendly neighbourhood gatherings. Photos of patrons recent and past, plus posters and news clippings lined the walls. The labelled sides of wooden wine crates lined the bottom wall of the bar at the back.

I sipped my house wine – a dark plummy Sangiovese that was good. Bill had a Lambrusco that was much darker and fuller tasting than the one I’d had at Tamburini. If we lived in Bologna, the Osteria del Sole could easily become our local.

Enoteca Italiana

The small exterior of Enoteca Italiana belies its size. After eating, we explored the many aisles of wines on offer.

Before heading to the station to catch the train to Verona (where we would be cat-sitting for two weeks) we had time for one last stop. After wandering a bit, we found a fantastic enoteca – a combo deli, wine bar and wine shop.

At the Enoteca Italiana, we ordered two glasses of Prosecco – that sparkling wine from the DOP just northeast of Verona – a precursor of great things to come. And we each had a pillowy soft rosetta bread roll filled with mortadella for Bill and aged pecorino for me. (We shared.) You might think it would be dry, without mayo or mustard or any other accompaniments, but the super fresh bread ensured it was delicious.

An older man, who turned out to be Claudio, seemed to be the head honcho. He greeted visitors and ensured the service was excellent, fast and courteous. Enoteca Italiana was away from the Quadrilatero area, where tourists abound, so I wondered if the staff didn’t feel as overrun.      

Anything besides food in Bologna?

Trainee surgeons dissected bodies in the 17^th century Anatomy Theatre in the University of Bologna, under the watchful gaze of an Inquisition priest.

Yes! We also enjoyed several non-food interludes:

• The Basilica of San Petronio with its wonderful frescoes in the Chapel of the Magi and the longest sundial in the world, stretching 67.7 metres. It was key to discovering problems with the Julian calendar and led to the invention of the leap year.
• The Anatomy Theatre in the University of Bologna, the world’s oldest university, founded in 1069.
• Il Due Torri – two of the many leaning towers in Bologna. Torre degli Asinelli has a 1.3-metre tilt while its close neighbour, the Torre Garisenda, is a drunken 3.2 metres off vertical (although less than the tower in Pisa).

Our food experiences, though, were the highlight.

We had a scrumptious time sampling the classic foods of Bologna, especially ragu sauce and mortadella in its many forms. But we did miss a few. The most glaring omission was tortellini in brodo – tortellini filled with mortadella in a beef broth. We missed seeing the tortellini being made by the sfoglia ladies. And there are other markets and a never-ending list of deli meats and cheeses for our taste buds explore.  

But that just means we must return.

We visited Bologna in May 2024. Find out where we are right now by visiting our ‘Where’s Kathryn?’ page.