OK, so we all know that three olives are too many for a Martini, and stoned olives are always a no-no, but this was a passably good mix; it was anyway the best Martini I ever had in Pietrasanta. Not that it took much effort to reach this award....

I must admit, and I would not try to conceal it, that saying that I don't like Pietrasanta is a remarkable understatement. In this nice Tuscan little town, the arrival of people of the kind that Tom Wolfe marvellously labeled as 'radical-chic' have created an artefact populated mainly by foreigners of the most unpleasant variety. Most of them are Germans, Americans and French, all snottily looking down at Italian as peasants and pretending to like the absurd things masquerading as 'art' in the many shops around the centre. (I must add, at this point, that I have lots of British, German and French friends that I really love. On the other hand, I despise those who think that, just because they are on holiday, they have the right to ruin everybody else's view wearing socks and Birkenstocks and loud t-shirts even when visting war memorials. As P.J. O'Rourke rightly remarked, these are mass graves anyway.) They deserve to be ripped off mercilessly by ruthless merchants: and these merchants, the 'antiques' shops and the restaurants around town, rightly go at this task with hammer and tongs. You can see what I think of one of Pietrasanta's fashionable spots, Filippo MUD, here.

Sometimes, however, something good comes out even of the ugliest mess, and it took a venerable Milanese institution, 'Giacomo', to restore my faith in the fundamentally excellent quality of the food in and around Versilia.

Taking advantage of the fact that the present Covid-19 keeps the number of foreigners arriving in Italy to a bare minimum, Anna and I had a stroll around Pietrasanta and found it to be quite nice after all. Yes, 'art' merchants were all there, waiting for prey, but they did just take a quick look at us and as we had parked our Porsche far away and we didn't wear any diamond-encrusted Parmigiani watch, they didn't pester us. Actually, they didn't even consider us, as we were clearly not wealthy enough for Pietrasanta standard. So when we saw an elegantly understated front entrance with the indication that this was Giacomo's embassy in Pietrasanta I encouraged Anna to book a table there: much, I have to add, to her surpsise.

We did already know quite well Giacomo in Milano both for its 'Bistrot' and for the spectacular 'Arengario' in Piazza Duomo thanks to the good offices of our close friends Dorotea and Marco Makaus, so I had high hopes for that evening, when the seaside restaurants in Forte were battered by rain and wind. Giacomo did not fail us: the Costoletta alla Milanese (my hommage to their Milanese origins) was excellent, and the Ravioli cacio e pepe, lime, bottarga e tartare di gamberi (Ravioli “Cacio &Pepe” with cheese and pepper, lime, bottarga and prawn tartare)  extraordinarily good; the bar and canteen are exquisitely well-stocked. I think that this is the best restaurant in Pietrasanta, and this is no big deal but more significantly one of the best in Versilia: and this really means something!