4 /5
Valoración media
★
★
★
★
I realize that in order to understand the title of the review you must have listened to the anonymous song by Franciscan Guccini. It remains the fact that after making kilometers of endless curves under a sun that clearly told us that we were up to the desert, we arrive at artenara, where after having parked and looked with indistinct the thick rain of rays of sun even a meter not repaired from the shadow makes us plot the veins of the wrists. with a superhuman radius we look for shelter under the roof open at the side of the church and we hypothesize to sit at the tables arranged them. not having received feedback from the staff met on where to sit we decide in a last year to cross the square and to go to ask for fresh shelter to the house of the kite. we are immediately greeted with kindness and concern and in an amen we find ourselves sitting with the owner who begins to cuddle us wondering what could be useful. refreshed with the drinks that were brought to us, in a mild and pleasant climate we were guided in a very interesting typical menu. all very good and what we did not taste was only motivated by the temperature, which did not allow great fancy flights. Russian salad remarkable, cheese with excellent red tomatoes jam, rings of fried totans with the right care and zucchini and scalded prawns that have concluded worthy lunch. desserts prepared by them with imperfections (small, perhaps too toasted caraemllo) that only things cooked in the house can afford and that have made it even more valuable and familiar. only in the end we remembered that the sun continued to be a master's fault and that there were still many curves. but we had properly recoupled. By the way I forgot to say that the first album by francesco guccine in which he appears state is also the first album (folk beat and the song is the second side b.