Food in Florence: A Practical Guide

It's easy to get Florence wrong. I learned that the hard way on my first morning, when I wandered into a tourist trap near Ponte Vecchio, ordered a "Florentine steak" that cost €35 and tasted like it had been sitting in a freezer since the Medici era. The waiter, with a sigh, handed me a menu with a photo of a steak that looked nothing like what I’d been served. I ate it anyway, but it was a lesson: Florence isn’t about the big, flashy restaurants. It’s about the tiny, unmarked doors and the people who’ve been cooking the same way for generations.

My real culinary awakening came on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. I followed the smell of garlic and rosemary to a tiny trattoria tucked away on Via dei Macci, a street so narrow it felt like a secret. The place, called Trattoria Da Nerbone, has no sign, just a red awning and a door that creaks when you open it. I sat at the counter, ordered the pici all'aglione—hand-rolled pasta with garlic, olive oil, and a kick of chili—and a carafe of local Chianti. The pasta was thick, chewy, and perfect for soaking up the garlicky sauce. The owner, a woman with flour on her apron, told me she makes the pici every morning from a recipe her grandmother brought from Siena. It cost €12 for the pasta and €6 for the wine, and I ate every bite, even though I was already full from breakfast.

Another revelation came at a little spot I stumbled on while wandering the Oltrarno district. Il Latini, on Via de’ Tornabuoni, is a wine bar that serves the best lampredotto—tripe sandwich—this side of Tuscany. I’d heard about it, but I was skeptical until I tried it. The sandwich, made with slow-cooked tripe, is served on a crusty roll with a smear of salsa verde and a side of pickled vegetables. It’s €3.50 and takes about five minutes to make, but it’s worth every penny. The bar opens at 7 a.m. and closes at 8 p.m., so it’s perfect for a quick lunch or a late-night snack. I went there twice, once with a friend and once solo, and each time the owner, a man with a thick Tuscan accent, gave me a nod and a smile. "Buon appetito," he’d say, as if he’d known me for years.

Most visitors get Florence wrong because they think it’s all about the art and the history. But the real heart of the city is in the food. I’ve eaten at some of the most famous restaurants in Florence, but the best meals I had were the ones that weren’t on any guidebook. The key is to wander, to ask locals for recommendations, and to be open to the unexpected. For example, I asked a woman at the market on Via dei Neri what she’d recommend for lunch, and she pointed me to a tiny place with a sign that said "Cucina Casalinga." I went in, and it was a home kitchen—no menu, just a few tables and a woman cooking for her family. I had a plate of ribollita, a hearty bread soup, for €5, and it was the most comforting meal I’ve had in a long time.

If you’re looking for a guide to the best places to eat in Florence, I’ve found that the best resource is dining in Florence, which highlights places like Da Nerbone and Il Latini that you’d never find on your own. It’s not just a list—it’s a guide to the soul of the city, written by people who’ve been there, done that, and eaten the best.

My practical tip? Always ask for the "menù del giorno"—the daily menu. It’s usually a three-course meal for €15-€20, and it’s the best way to experience what the chef is cooking that day. It’s also a great way to avoid the tourist traps, because the menu changes every day, and it’s based on what’s fresh and local. I had the menù del giorno at a little place near Piazza della Signoria, and it included a starter of fennel salad, a main of roasted lamb, and a dessert of panna cotta. It was the perfect meal, and it cost less than €20. I’ve been back to Florence three times now, and I always make sure to ask for the menù del giorno. It’s the best way to eat like a local, and it’s the best way to experience the real Florence.