Good grief, I haven't written since April. Anyway...
I went to Eataly this weekend. If you haven't heard of it, it's a grocery store-pastry shop-restaurant-deli-produce market-cafe filled with all things Italian. Mario Batali and Lidia Bastianich are the celebrity chefs behind it, among others. Since it opened sometime last year, it has been a phenomenon for locals and tourists alike. So I was curious.
My main concern and reason for not visiting sooner...the crowds. Every time I walked by it was crawling. Saturday I managed to arrive early enough in the day that a quick browse seemed almost manageable. So inside I went.
It's beautiful, truly. Sparkling and filled floor to ceiling with every imaginable product you could ever want. All wrapped in gorgeous paper and foil, exotic bottles as far as the eye can see. Around every corner is something yummier. You can order fancy coffee drinks, linger over chocolate bars and homemade jam, and pack up some fresh pasta to cook in your own kitchen. It's all there.
And yet, somehow it's too much. I found myself not wanting to look too closely. Not wanting to absorb all they had to offer. Not wanting to get excited about the adorable packaging.
Because that's what you're supposed to do when you're IN Italy. You're supposed to go to the market and stare blankly at the labels, hoping you purchase the right item. You're supposed to marvel at how cute all their candy looks, and the sodas, and the boxes of cereal. Because they don't look like YOUR candy and soda and cereal. And you're supposed to eat their yogurt and remark how much better it is than Yoplait. And you're supposed to wait in line at the green market and muddle your way through, pointing and smiling apologetically as you mangle the vocabulary. You're supposed to pack up a picnic of berries and cheese and sit on a park bench. And you're supposed to savor all these things because they are special and unique and a moment in time.
But still...it's a very nice place. Don't get me wrong - I was the first to get in line when I spotted the gelato counter. I ordered raspberry gelato on a brioche roll because I saw it mentioned in New York Magazine. And it was delicious. But not as delicious as the gelato I ate in Italy, piled high and sloppy.
So, by all means, check it out if you're in town. I have no doubt that everything you order will be scrumptious. But then, take that $5.90 that you spent on gelato and drop it in your piggy bank the next time. Save it for a trip to Italy. Mario Batali will be alright without you.
www.eataly.com
