A few weeks ago I asked where all of the good customer service guys had gone? I lamented the lack of a customer-service oriented mentality in south Italy and wondered how businesses could remain open with the attitude they have towards their customers.

Well today, I have that answer.

photo credit: Gudlyf

But before we get to that … I have a back story.

There is a steak house in Beaumont my family frequents as often as possible. They have great steaks, great sides and according to my cousin, Angelique, great fajitas-although I leave my Tex-Mex to the professionals.

One day seven or eight of my family members met there for lunch. Since my husband and I had a lunch date a few hours later with friends, we skipped the meal. We didn’t, however, skip the company and we joined them towards the end of their meal for a chat.

It was about that time my mother noticed a hair (eek!) in her plate. She didn’t complain, just pushed it back and continued talking. The ever-attentive server noticed, asked her about it and immediately apologized and offered to bring her a replacement dish.

She was finished anyway, she said, and insisted she wasn’t upset.

A few minutes later, the manager appeared.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am (we are in Texas, remember!),” he said.

“Are you sure you don’t want a replacement?”

When she refused, he made another offer.

“We’d like to offer you all desserts-on the house!”

Well my family never met a dessert they didn’t like and they were thrilled with this customer service gesture.

“And what kind would you like?’ He asked, looking at my husband and me.

“Oh no. We didn’t even eat here,” I said apologetically. “We just came in to see them for a few minutes.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You are here now. What can I bring you?”

—

And that dining moment-at The Cattle Company restaurant in Beaumont, Texas-became the standard by which we measured all other customer service experiences.

And no one has ever matched them.

Until now.

Fast-forward three or four years and 6,000 miles to last Tuesday, November 17-the night of our 2nd anniversary.

We chose Carn & Vino in Catanzaro Lido-and if that name sounds familiar to you, it is because I’ve written of them before.

The restaurant has more elegance and class than any restaurant I’ve been to in southern Italy and the chef is among the most creative I’ve seen-anywhere.

But Tuesday night, I did not choose wisely.

Among the list of primi plates was a cocoa pasta dish, made with Gorgonzola cheese and topped with shredded black truffles.

Although I wasn’t sure if I liked truffles, with their strong, earthy scent and matching flavor, I thought I’d give it a try.

Now I know.

I don’t like truffles.

I picked at the plate and with the antipasto we’d shared and the quickly-diminishing bottle of wine, I was fine.

The owner stopped by the table.

“You didn’t like it?” He asked me.

My husband jumped in to help. “It was really just the truffles. They are too strong for her. She just didn’t choose well.”

Thanks, honey … .

The owner took my plate.

A few minutes later he returned.

“The chef is making you something else,” he told me.

“Oh no,” I insisted. “I’m ok. I’m not even hungry anymore.”

About that time, my husband asked him about the dessert options.

He chose homemade tiramisu. I chose panna cotta with frutti di bosco topping.

We finished our desserts and proceeded to the front of the restaurant.

“The desserts were compliments of the chef,” the owner told us.

We chatted briefly with the chef, thanked him profusely and left.

In the car my husband looked at the receipt and noticed that not only had the chef offered dessert, but the owner had removed my plate from the bill.

We were shocked.

We had finally found a restaurant whose customer service rivals our favorite steak house back home in Texas, and we found it in the most unusual place.

In another favorite steak house … in our new backyard.

Have you had any good customer service stories lately? Please share!

 

photo credit: Pudpuduk

 
I have to admit, it can be a little intimidating to walk into a new restaurant, in a new city, in a foreign country. You may or may not speak the language and although it is probably your overactive imagination- you are sure half of the room just turned to stare as you walked through the door.
 
Your foreign status is stamped on your forehead and you’d give anything to know what to expect.
 
I know. I’ve been there.
 
Last week we discussed Eating Out in Southern Italy-Who Pays What and When and we had some fun comments. This week we are tackling the menu.
 
If you subscribe to my newsletter, you have already gotten the scoop on the four basic types of restaurants you’ll find in Italy-but you might not know exactly what is expected of you once you are there.
 
So, here is the deal.
 
Pizzerie
 
At pizzerias in Italy, each person orders a personal pizza and the group usually orders stuzzicherie-some type of appetizer to split among the group, usually french fries, mozzarella balls, meatballs, etc. Drinks are sometimes split, as well with the waiter bringing a few bottles of water and beer to the table for the group to share. Children’s items aren’t usually on the menu, so feel free to ask for a child-size pizza for your kiddos.
 
Paninoteche
 
Paninoteche, or restaurants that served grilled sandwiches, operate like pizzerias. Everyone chooses their own sandwich (or if you are like my husband, your own sandwich, or two, or sometimes three) and shares appetizers. I was interested to notice that if you order a sandwich and fries, they’ll bring the fries first-like an appetizer, then follow up with the sandwich.
 

photo credit: avlxyz

 
Trattorie and Ristorante
 
Trattorie are essentially low-cost restaurants that serve authentic food from their area or region, but when it comes to ordering your meal-they’re basically the same.
 
On the menu, you’ll notice sections for Antipasto, or appetizers, Primi, or first plates and Secondi, second plates. It is generally expected you will order at least two of these-like an antipasto and primo or a primo and secondo. Some Italians order all three and many waiters will encourage you to do so. But don’t feel pressured-99% of the time I go out, I only order a first plate. Depending on the restaurant’s specialty, my husband might get a first and second plate or we might share an antipasto.
 
Remember when you are planning your meals in southern Italy that lunch and dinner are served later than in the states. People don’t generally start lunch until at least 1:00, and some restaurants don’t even open their doors before 8:00 at night. Most places will add a per-person cover charge to your bill, you aren’t expected to tip and you can usually hang out after your meal as long as you want … and by all means, don’t threaten the owner.
 
What are some of the best things you have noticed about eating out in Italy? How is it different from eating out in your home country?
 

 

photo credit: tore_urnes

 
An Italian friend of mine was recently at a pizzeria in Naples and caught the following scene …
 
The restaurant owner, a stocky, slightly-above-middle-aged man from Naples took the bill to a table of about 20 Americans.
 
“Can you divide the check for us?” the American spokesman asks.
 
The owner whips out a calculator, enters the total amount and counts the heads at the table. “It is ‘X-amount’ per person,” he says.
 
“No,” the American insists. “Not like that.” He motions around the table.
 
“Each person needs his own bill.”
 
The pizzaiolo is agitated. “I can’t do that,” he says. “I don’t remember what each person ate.”
 
A heated exchange ensues between the pizzaiolo and the American tourist, with the American ending his tirade with, “Fine. I’ll call the police.”
 
The restaurant owner turns his back on the table, raises both hands above his head and swings around like a batter wildly swinging at a fast-pitched ball. “YOU CALL THE POLICE,” he screams as knocks the American tourist to the floor.
 
At this point in the story, my friend laughs and picks up his beer, clearly signaling the story’s end.
 
“But wait,” I told him. “What happened next?”
 
“The Americans paid the bill.”
 

photo credit: mararie

 
This, my fellow Americans, is a prime example of what NOT to do at a restaurant in southern Italy. These tourists made the mistake of assuming restaurants in Italy operate the same way as the restaurants they visit back home.
 
In America, people are usually presented with a bill for the food they consumed. If I have a salad and glass of wine, I’ll pay less than someone who eats steak and has three cocktails.
 
In southern Italy, the group is presented with one final bill. They divide that by the number of people at the table and each person pays an equal amount. So if I go to lunch with three of my friends and our bill is €45, we’ll each pay €15, regardless of whose meal cost more.
 
There is debate here in Calabria about which way is better. Some people think the American way is rude and insulting, while others appreciate the fact that friends aren’t excluded from a night out-just because they are counting their centesimi.
 
Regardless of what you are used to, it is important to know the dining culture for the area you are visiting so you won’t feel out of place, embarrass yourself-or as in the case of these Americans in Naples-embarrass your countrymen.
 
But what do you think? Do you prefer to get your personal bill for the food you ordered or would you rather split the bill in even numbers?
 
Be sure to come back next Monday for Eating Out in Southern Italy, Part 2.
 

 
There is one in every city – in every family – in every circle of friends … . There is a place you depend on. A place you rely on. A place you return to time and time again for a good meal.
 
For my husband and me here in Catanzaro, Italy that place is Pizzeria da Ciro in Catanzaro Lido.
 
You see, I was feeling a little let down after yesterday’s “Where NOT to eat ” post, and I thought it was only fair to offer you loyal My Bella Vita readers and anxious connoisseurs of Calabria’s finest foods, a little backup.
 
Two-to-three times a month we find ourselves driving along the corso to Catanzaro Lido for what we’ve termed our “typical date night dinner.”
 

 
Admittedly, the building is nothing to look at, but once inside you are greeted by friendly faces, smiling servers and jovial pizzaioli. Ciro and his family are from Naples and they have proudly served up Naples-style pizza with soft dough and chunks of fresh mozzarella … and the best potato crochettes I’ve ever tasted, since 1983.
 

 
In 1998, Ciro’s brother, Stefano, expanded the family business by opening his own version of Pizzeria da Ciro, down the street. With so many pizza-eatin’ Italians marching around Catanzaro, the brothers have plenty of customers to share. In addition to the two dine-in restaurants, there are also three take-away stations in Catanzaro, where the Ciardi family delivers their paradise pizza a casa.
 
Ciro is only open for dinner six days a week (seven days a week during the summer months), while Stefano’s Ciro serves pasta dishes, second plates and pizza, and is open for lunch and dinner six days a week. (Smart family, though that one – those six days don’t coincide, so pizza-cravin’ Calabrians can enjoy Ciro pizza seven nights a week.)
 

 
Although the new Ciro pizzeria is rustic and quaint, we have remained faithful to the original clan. I’m nothing if I am not loyal … .
 
Here are both addresses:
 
Ciro (original)
Via Fiume, 38
Catanzaro Lido; Tel 0961.737794
 
- and -
 
Ciro (#2)
Via Europa
Catanzaro Lido; Tel 0961.33008
 
When you are done, head down the lungomare and visit Marrons Glacés for some of the best gelato in southern Italy.
 
And just because today is Thursday … and because I love Ciros *so* much … here is pizza heart – from me to you.
 

 
Happy Love Thursday!
 

The people of Cosenza rave about their legendary pizzaiolo and have proclaimed the Pizzeria da Gigi, located just outside of downtown Cosenza, as the best pizza south of Naples.

And I believed them.

See. I’ve eaten there before.

The pizza dough was soft and filling, the sauce prepared with fresh tomatoes, the toppings, generous and flavorful.

The lively dining room was bursting with the fulfilled voices of men, women and children gorging on fresh antipasto, homemade pizzas and savory desserts.

It was a good thing.

But then I returned.

After months of anticipation – not so much postponed for laziness, but rather for the holidays, traveling and B&B’ing – we made the hour voyage north to Cosenza and to the Pizzeria da Gigi.

Che delusione.

We arrived at 8:55 PM and with two small groups ahead of us, were told it would be a 30-40 minute wait.

Thirty minutes passed, 45 minutes passed, 60 minutes passed … 95 minutes passed … .

The busy hostess – Gigi’s young daughter – finally greeted us, long after those two small groups had been seated and served, at least a dozen other groups of varying sizes had eaten and we were once again standing in the lobby with two other groups.

“Oops,” she said upon hearing our name repeated for the third time that night. “I must have skipped you. You will be next.”

A young waiter came to the door a few minutes later and said, “There is a table in there if you want it,” and walked away.

We entered the pizzeria and looked around. A different waiter waved us over and we were seated.

Another 25 minutes passed and exactly two hours after we arrived at Gigi’s, we placed an order.

Another 35 minutes later, our pizzas were served. One of the pizzas wasn’t what we ordered. However, that is neither here nor there as we eagerly accepted it for fear that our stomachs would melt into the vacant spaces between our ribs … .

Our Cosentino cousin, obviously embarrassed by his city’s showing, summed it up well, “Non ho parole … .” Or rather, “I’m speechless!”

The pizza was good, although the sour taste in my mouth from the lack of apology and the humiliation we felt at being the designated invisible-customers-of-the-day had left an aftertaste no Naples-style pizza could quench.

So do I think the pizza at Da Gigi is the best pizza south of Naples? Maybe. It is good pizza. But the service is just too much to digest and well, if they don’t want my euros, I’ll spend them with someone who does.

** I’ve noticed here in southern Italy there isn’t a strong emphasis on the customer experience. Many establishments seem to have a “take or leave it” mentality when it comes to serving their customers. Why do you think this is? Do you see this where you live? Do you think businesses like this will see the backlash in their sales or does quality count more than service in some instances?

 
Rome has coratella.
 
Palermo has milza.
 
And Catanzaro?
 
Well, we have morzello.
 
Originally created in the province of Catanzaro, morzello, or Morzeddhu alla Catanzarisi in Catanzaro’s dialect is a specialty dish made from cow innards.
 
Yum.
 
According to legend … (come on we are in southern Italy, folks you didn’t think this dish would come without a legend, did you?)
 
… According to legend an impoverished mother, widowed and alone, was forced to accept odd jobs to support her hungry children. On Christmas Eve, she was asked to clean a slaughterhouse and dispose of the wastes in the nearby *Fiumarella.
 
Worried about what she would serve her hungry children for Christmas dinner the following day, she saved the disposed meat, cleaned it and prepared a meat soup. And morzello was born …
 
For those of you who didn’t know, I’m not much of an internal-organ-eating-type-of-gal. In fact, much to the distress of my Calabrian suocero, I rarely eat meat at all.
 
I am not, however, one to exert my beliefs onto others and when my husband heard of a new restaurant that specializes in morzeddhu, well, we had to go.
 

 
Located in the heart of Catanzaro Sala, just skimming the outskirts of downtown Catanzaro, A’ Tijana sits on the side of a busy street, proudly announcing its prize.
 

 
The inside of the restaurant is adorned in dark wood and pale yellow and there is a general pleasantness about the place. The owners, who just might be two of the friendliest restaurateurs in Calabria, are a young couple who talk of their long days and endless nights with a smile. They like their job, and in turn we liked their restaurant.
 
I was especially relieved to see a long list of pizza options listed on their menu. Their menu, that is written strictly in Catanzarese dialect, has pizza, appetizers and of course, morzello.
 
Peppe chose the traditional morzello dish which is piled into a "pitta" smothered in sauce, and is served extra-extra-super-hot spicy.
 

 
In keeping with the theme of the evening, I had the Pizza Calabrese.
 

 
We were having so much fun our neighbor even joined in, offering me an exclusive photo op with his pizza, as it had "un gusto particolare."
 

 
Since morzello is best enjoyed as a mid-morning treat, A’Tijana opens at 10:00 AM and serves lunch and dinner six days a week and is only closed on Sundays.
 
Here’s their info.
 

Via degli Angioini

88100 Catanzaro Sala

0961. 751838

 
And if you go, tell them I sent you-they’ll remember me. I’m the straniera who wouldn’t eat morzeddhu and took pictures of food!
 
* The above-mentioned Fiumarella is the same small river that runs directly in front of our home (and bed and breakfast) and leads the path along which I sometimes enjoy a morning jog or an afternoon passeggiata.
 
But I am curious. Have you tried morzello? And if not, would you?