Day 3 - In Search of... the Croissant?

In France, there is only the croissant. It is a croissant, period. There is also no chocolate croissant in France — that's a "Pain au Chocolat." And no, it is actually not a croissant! It looks different and tastes different too.

The title actually fits well — we spent the entire day and evening constantly searching. For jam, moons, parking spots, hotels...

Well-rested, we ask Veronica where we can have breakfast. She recommends a small café around the corner, Crociani. I love French cuisine and its refinement. And Italian cuisine for how it creates moments of bliss from just a few ingredients and a lot of heart and passion for the quality of the raw products.

But please, my dear Italian friends: What are you doing to the holy grail of French breakfast? What are you making of the wonderful croissant?

Croissant in France!

In France, there is only the croissant. It is a croissant, period. There is also no chocolate croissant in France — that's a "Pain au Chocolat." And no, it is actually not a croissant! It looks different and tastes different too.

So in summary: The croissant is a high cultural treasure in France. And for me too. That's why it pains me what I've been experiencing these past few days in Italy. In a country whose cuisine I also love.

Croissant in Italy?!

Italy's interpretation of the croissant has a touch of "pimp my ride": Let's slap on some spoilers. Higher, lower, further... The main thing is that the actual virtues of the croissant — its airiness inside, the crunchiness outside, the buttery fresh taste — are destroyed forever.

An absolutely essential feature seems to be the coating with a sticky, sugary layer. All I can say is: What's that about? The French don't dump Herbes de Provence on your tiramisu either!

And it goes even further: The variety of options in the croissant section of an Italian bakery is virtually inexhaustible. Everything that isn't nailed down gets baked into it. The main thing is that it's so sweet that no other flavor survives! And of course, it has to be sticky... I wanted some jam with my croissant. They don't have that. But baked into the croissant? Of course they do. Because jam becomes so wonderfully tough and sticky when baked. Or what's the reason?

But this morning topped everything I've had to endure so far.

A croissant with charcoal. And of course, even this specimen was "refined" with sugar syrup... I'll leave this without comment. Because I'm speechless!

After cleaning our hands of sticky residue, we retrieved the car from the garage and set off on the new leg heading west. The plan was Finale Ligure. Neither of us knew it. But we'd both heard the name before. Great reasoning — the same applies to Castrop-Rauxel, I know... But Finale Ligure is closer, not even 500 kilometers away.

Along the way, you can feel the prosperity gap from north to south. The highways are worse, not to mention the roads. The colors are more faded, the houses look less well-maintained.

In Chiavari There's Food

When we get hungry, we exit at Chiavari. A small seaside resort that naturally isn't exactly overflowing with tourists right now. I had found 3 Farinas on Tripadvisor — they were supposed to have pinsas, a type of pizza whose dough had already impressed me in Alcudia, where I ate it for the first time.

We walk along the waterfront promenade. And can't find the place. We discover it's pinned incorrectly on Maps — it's actually on the second row. It's also wrong that it's shown as open. It's closed. Like most other restaurants. Everything else is bars that only offer toasted paninis.

So we decide on an Asian "All-You-Can-Eat." We'd always wanted to try one. Had never been inside one. And where else would you find one right on the seafront?

The friendly waitress explains the concept of Yugo. We receive a slip of paper on which we can each write down 5 items from the menu. Which are then ordered. And once we've eaten them all, we can order another 5 items. Interestingly, this is per table, which briefly makes me consider "leaving" Josh for lunch and getting my own table.

The first order takes forever. I complain twice. Then the gyozas are served and I'm told that these specifically need 20 minutes or more because they're so elaborate to steam. Hmm... Maybe there are regional differences in Japanese cuisine ;)

New list, new luck. This time I'm not allowed to order one dish because it doesn't have a sun. Excuse me? And gyozas are now really the last ones, we can't get any more... Whoa. The sun thing can be clarified using the menu. We have the "Sun" all-you-can-eat, which costs 13.95 euros during the day. And only includes the items that have a sun printed next to them. And not a moon — that's for the dinner menu. Fair enough, we get it! The gyoza thing remains dubious. But irrelevant, because there's actually enough food.

We try a few more sushi variations, I eat a spicy chili chicken. Amusing here that the rice ordered with it comes instantly from the kitchen. And then serves to successfully cool down the chili chicken that arrives 15 minutes later. The gyozas — apparently not so elaborately steamed this time — arrive after 7 minutes. The sushi has surprisingly high-quality content, but is then somewhat diminished by one with a cocktail sauce-like topping and another with a creamy topping.

All the dishes are perfectly fine. No revelation. But for the price and the location, this is absolutely fair!

Genoa and the Hotel Parking Spots

We continue on to Genoa — it's only half an hour away. I quickly book a hotel in the old town. Mother-in-law had recommended the old town but pointed out that her practical experience was a few decades old. We decide on the Palazzo Grillo. Naturally, I make sure the hotel has parking. An absolute must, especially for old town hotels!

We get lost on the way there — again — which costs us the usual 8 minutes. On the second attempt, we find the right side street that turns under the elevated highway running along the coast through Genoa toward the old town. There it seems nearly impossible to reach the hotel because scaffolding narrows the alley so much that we can't fit through with a car. Not to mention the "No Through Traffic" sign, which we probably would have ignored...

So another 8 minutes to reach the aquarium parking lot, which is simply on the other side of the street. There, a Senegalese street vendor seems to be seeking my friendship but ultimately doesn't want to let me have the already-attached friendship bracelet for free. That puts a strain on our newly formed friendship. Anyway, onward to the hotel. Luggage on our backs. We don't really find it. Good thing we didn't try with the car. The stairs and the truly narrow alleys would have stopped us. And we wouldn't have needed the way back...

On the way, we pass a great variety of ladies offering very intimate services. And we also see a few gentlemen whose services one can only guess at but wouldn't want to experience. We wonder what I've booked. But suddenly the last gloomy alley opens up onto a beautiful little square and we're standing before the magnificent facade of our hotel.

More about Genoa in part two — now I'm going to take a nap!