An unique dinning experience, today I am going to talk about a dinner I had in Antica Focacceria San Francesco in Palermo. It was almost 3 years ago.
Hours of wandering in Palermo, sun had just set. It was a Sunday night, it probably explained why the streets were so dead. Apart from a few cars passing by occasionally, almost all the shops were closed. My stomach was churning, telling me I should search for dinner. I walked and walked and finally stumbled upon this beautiful antique restaurant in a dark alley, the only restaurant still opened that I could find.
People always know about Sicily as the birthplace of mafia, so do I. Plus, that day was just my first day in Sicily, I was being very cautious about gangsters and stuff. I walked in, there were a few customers but they were all dressed up. Women in dresses, men in suits. Why they were all dressed up, I thought, while the all the people I met during the day weren't even like this. They all looked at me at once when I stepped in, probably because I awas the only foreigner there. They probably just wondering why an asian kid came into the restaurant alone. But then my paranoid brain kicked in, thinking that they were all mafias and they despised me because I had intruded their little private dining space.
Panicking, I think I probably wet my armpits. But I thought I couldn't walk out again after just walking in. That would create suspicion. I gulped down my confusing thoughts, walked in anyway, trying to be casual. I lined up like everybody else, to order food. Not many people like I said, but it was the longest queue in my life. When it was my turn, the waiter didn't speak English, so I turned around looking for help. I looked back and behind me a lady with a cold-blooded face, a face as if she could kill anybody in the room with her gun in between her thighs. She gave me a chill in the spine, almost made me cry out mama. Helpless, I turned back to the waiter, randomly pointed on one line in the menu and ordered a plate of pasta quickly. I saw everybody also ordering some sort of burger, and there was a separated stall where there was the cook preparing it on spot. I thought it was an obligation to order it since everybody did so. So yet again, I pointed at the burger stall, and signaled to the waiter that I would like one of that burger.
The restaurant serves like a canteen. I ordered the food and paid at one end, and then collected the food at the corresponded stalls. I collected my pasta, and then the burger. The cook said something to me in Sicilian that I certainly didn't understand but I guessed it was a question, I just nodded as hard as I could. I finally sat down with my food. I wanted to take a picture of the food, but I didn't dare to do it openly. I sneaked out my camera and then took a quick photo. At this very moment, two wild policemen walked in and my flight or flee mechanism broke down entirely. My brain was shut down, confused. Try not to make eye contact with anyone and eat your food obediently, I told myself again and again.
From my peripheral vision, I saw the policemen walking around and greeting the waiters, the cashier and the cook, and also some of those well dressed customers. Even the policemen knew them! They must certainly be mafias, I thought. All my assumptions were correct. Holy shit! Frightened, I only knew I had to finish my meal immediately and run run run! And that is exactly what I did. Of course that I didn't run. I paced quickly out of the shop and told myself not to look back. After what I assumed a safe distance away from the shop, I finally had the courage to turn around and I took a zoomed-in picture of the shop from far.
Days after, I was so damn embarassed by my paranoid behaviour. Come to think it, there is a higher chance that those people in the restaurant that night were not mafia. It was just my imagination. They must have thought that I was a weirdo. Recently I tried to check out the restaurant online again and to my surprise, it is a really famous restaurant. It is even featured in the Michellin guide. A touristic spot is what I got from reading the reviews. Some say it worths its reputation, some say overrated. For the period of two years after my visit to the restaurant, I always thought that it was only known by the locals. I thought I had found a hidden treasure that I could brag about. But in the end, it is just another typical touristic spot. I probably went there during their low season.
People always know about Sicily as the birthplace of mafia, so do I. Plus, that day was just my first day in Sicily, I was being very cautious about gangsters and stuff. I walked in, there were a few customers but they were all dressed up. Women in dresses, men in suits. Why they were all dressed up, I thought, while the all the people I met during the day weren't even like this. They all looked at me at once when I stepped in, probably because I awas the only foreigner there. They probably just wondering why an asian kid came into the restaurant alone. But then my paranoid brain kicked in, thinking that they were all mafias and they despised me because I had intruded their little private dining space.
Panicking, I think I probably wet my armpits. But I thought I couldn't walk out again after just walking in. That would create suspicion. I gulped down my confusing thoughts, walked in anyway, trying to be casual. I lined up like everybody else, to order food. Not many people like I said, but it was the longest queue in my life. When it was my turn, the waiter didn't speak English, so I turned around looking for help. I looked back and behind me a lady with a cold-blooded face, a face as if she could kill anybody in the room with her gun in between her thighs. She gave me a chill in the spine, almost made me cry out mama. Helpless, I turned back to the waiter, randomly pointed on one line in the menu and ordered a plate of pasta quickly. I saw everybody also ordering some sort of burger, and there was a separated stall where there was the cook preparing it on spot. I thought it was an obligation to order it since everybody did so. So yet again, I pointed at the burger stall, and signaled to the waiter that I would like one of that burger.
The restaurant serves like a canteen. I ordered the food and paid at one end, and then collected the food at the corresponded stalls. I collected my pasta, and then the burger. The cook said something to me in Sicilian that I certainly didn't understand but I guessed it was a question, I just nodded as hard as I could. I finally sat down with my food. I wanted to take a picture of the food, but I didn't dare to do it openly. I sneaked out my camera and then took a quick photo. At this very moment, two wild policemen walked in and my flight or flee mechanism broke down entirely. My brain was shut down, confused. Try not to make eye contact with anyone and eat your food obediently, I told myself again and again.
 |
| Literally a quick snapshot. The photo of the food I ordered. |
 |
| The photo of the restaurant I took from a "safe distance". |
Anyway, it was a funny experience, a funny story to tell people, my story. That is why this restaurant always has a special place in my heart. I don't remember the details of the interior nor the taste of the food. I only remember that the building kinda gave me a nostalgic feeling and the food was really cheap. For what I ordered, I paid only 4 euros and the quantity was so much that I couldn't even finish my food that night. But on the off chance, there was also the possibility that my appetite was disturbed by my only wish to get away as soon as I could.
No comments:
Post a Comment