Nonna

As we stood amidst history, a story of murder, the life of Julius Caesar, we learned of one of the best restaurants in Rome, Trattoria Der Pallaro, owned by Nonna and her family. It’s been around for over 100 years.

I was not feeling very well the night we should have had dinner here, but the thought of eating at Nonna’s sat with us overnight so we made sure it was in our plan the following day. It did not disappoint. The only thing that was disappointing was the people coming in wanting pizza, or a menu for that matter and leaving because at Nonna’s you get neither of these. What you get is a traditional 4 course Italian meal that Nonna is serving up and if your plate isn’t clean, you don’t move on (I can’t imagine leaving any of the delicious food on the plate anyway).

It started with Wine, red or white. That’s all the decision you have to make. Carafe of red it was, or at least how it started. Our server asked, “do you have to be anywhere?”, and we were so glad the answer was “No”. So was he.

Fennel, Lentils, mozzarella, fried cheese balls, fried meatballs, prosciutto and bread. That’s just how it started. When the first course was finished, we took a deep breath and awaited the arrival of our second course, pasta!

Two different flavors, red, white and a very empty plate at the end. I could have ate the white pasta over and over again. It reminds me a lot of my favorite pasta at Louis in St Paul.

Veal, some sort of spinach like green (if anyone knows what this is, we couldn’t understand) and home made potato chips rounded out course 3. Did I mention we moved to the white wine at this point?

A delicious dessert followed by several servings of limoncello finished up what was one of the best meals we had in Italy.

The experience was priceless. I am glad I was lucky enough to travel with two people that loved the adventure of trying new things. What if we would have not come back or said no because there is no pizza?

If you are going to Rome, go to Trattoria Der Pallaro. You will not be disappointed.

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