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...