The Italian island of Sardinia (Sardegna) brought out the adventurer in us. Our first stop was Sassari, a city of approximately 120,000 inhabitants with a rich history dating back to the early Middle Ages. A university town, home to the University of Sassari with some 18,000 students that opened in May 1562.
Our host, Gianluca, a treasure of Sardinian tradition, accommodated us at the Hotel Vitorio Emanuele in the center of the old city. As we walked through the meticulously persevering city center, we came across cobbled roads, old buildings, and streets so narrow that we could touch the walls on either side at the same time (however, locals drive cars, trucks, and scooters with hidden side mirrors in the ease). The dialect of the people around us, especially children, sounded beautiful, like music.
Sassari may seem so alien to modern New World eyes, yet we soon discovered that behind the ancient look were the comforts of the 21st century. At our hotel, we found motion sensor lighting, video security, wireless access, and a staff who spoke an incredible repertoire of languages, moving seamlessly from guest to guest. Just a passing glance, or in Veronica’s case an intentional snooper, at the open doors of the houses revealed all the newest gadgets. State-of-the-art kitchens with gleaming compact appliances, LCD screens on widescreen TVs, and computers and furniture to die for.
During dinner the first night, the conversation turned to local food and customs. Gianluca mentioned that horse and donkey were the “national foods” of Sardinia and that people who are not from the island may find them difficult to eat. It wasn’t a challenge, but for us, the glove had come off. Given that David had tried the horse on a previous visit to Italy, it was obvious that we should eat each other’s asses.
The next day, we noticed an intriguing little local retreat called Trattoria da Peppina in a small square near our hotel. Turns out the assenello (burrito) was one of the less adventurous menu items. The spinal cord, little lamb’s heads, three types of snails, various entrails, and goats’ legs were available, as well as various things that we couldn’t decipher even with our fairly comprehensive dictionary. This was it, we had found our place. The obvious jokes preceded our meal: “That’s a good ass”, “There’s nothing like a good ass”, “How would you like to bite me …? Well, you get the idea.
We were hoping a good sauce would cover our butt, but while we were enjoying our pasta “first course,” we heard the distinctive sound of meat on the grill. Sure enough, the donkey was served directly, just on a plate, roasted to perfection. They even went so far, perhaps by accident, perhaps not, to serve it in a way that could look like a toilet seat or a human butt.
Lemon and salt were added as we gathered our courage. The steak was cut, tentatively enough, and the first bite was sniffed and inspected. It smelled good, it looked good … Here we go. It’s good! No, really, it’s okay. Hoping to get just a bite or two, we ate every bite. Is very good. So now, best of all, at dinner we could honestly say, “No thanks, I had an ass for lunch.”
After lunch, it was time to explore more. Sassari sleeps during this part of the day, so it seemed like we had the whole place to ourselves, but we found the Museo Nazionale Sanna open. The museum has very convenient hours and houses some of the earliest Stone Age and Neolithic finds on the island. Phoenician and Carthaginian objects such as pottery and gold jewelry, Roman finds with statues, a pinch of coins, bronze buckles and a cache of heavy Roman ship anchors that pay homage to Sardinia’s maritime history share the space with the art collection. by Giovanni Sanna, whose family built the museum.
We then visit the famous fountain, Fontana di Rosello, built in 1606, which first supplied the aqueduct for the nearby seaport of Porto Torres. Later, the citizens of Sassari carried the water in buckets by hand and by donkey, we assumed before dinner.
At one point on our walk we passed a souvenir shop that carried t-shirts that said “No Mirto, No Party.” Intrigued, we stepped in to ask the owner about Mirto. With little language in common, we learned through hand signals and interpretive dances that Mirto is a traditional Sardinian liqueur that tastes harmless, but all hell breaks loose in half an hour. Immediately after arriving at the hotel, we began our investigation. We discovered that Myrtle comes in two varieties, red and white, and is made from the myrtle plant: the red (rossa) is made from the berries, the white (bianca) from the leaves. No hallucinations. Since we weren’t sure who to trust, Wikipedia, or the guy from the souvenir shop (could he have been exaggerating just to sell us a t-shirt?), We feel like more personal research needs to be done.
We made our way to Piazza Italia, home to the only clock in Sassari that showed the correct time. It resides in the building of the provincial capital, Provincia di Sassari. After dark, Sassari really comes to life. The square was full of outdoor cafes, families strolling, teenagers making out, and, as always, old men sitting on benches, watching.
Located at an outdoor table, we decided to start with the Mirto Rossa. Very sweet, 32 percent alcohol, flavored with herbs. We enjoyed people watching, hanging out for a while, hoping the effects of the drink weren’t too harsh. Still consistent, we decided to share a Mirto Bianca. The herbal flavor of the Bianca is more apparent as the sweetness of the berries has been removed. Again we await the hallucinations. Any.
Our study concluded that while Mirto will warm your spirit, it’s probably best not to expect a mind-expanding experience, but it may make you want to exclaim the local howl of “Aiooo!”
