Whimsy on a Wednesday bringing you an Italian Adventure!

The City of Tiramisu (and Titti Fountains)

Treviso: the birthplace of tiramisu, charming walled streets, and, most importantly, the Fontana Delle Tette. Yes, that’s right—the “Titti Fountain.” This Renaissance marvel features a woman proudly bearing a fountain with water shooting from her boobs. Back in the day, it was a thing of civic pride. Once, during city celebrations, the mayor had white wine pouring from one nipple and red from the other. He allowed the residents of the city to drink freely for three days. Three. Whole. Days.

Naturally, my British brain couldn’t help but picture this sort of thing occurring in the UK. Imagine: within minutes, there’d be entire cars rolling up, boot-loads of barrels and buckets ready to tap into the fountain. Free wine, you say? Just watch as the nation collectively depletes the supply and leaves nothing but a few spare drops. A few drops of blood from the fighting, that is! Hardcore revellers would be found drowned in the last remnants of a rose nectar.

The old stone lady now sits in the cabinet in the forum while the current reproduction spurts water for tourists like me, who flock to her for selfies, a bit of history, and a gawp at such productive bristols.

Walk Until You Earn the Crust: A Guide to Eating Italian-Style

Treviso is the kind of city that makes you want to walk and wander all day. The charming streets wind past cobbled corners, ancient churches, and too many tempting trattorias. Of course, walking wasn’t without purpose. I was on a mission to burn enough calories to justify a wood-fired pizza the size of my head paired with a glass (or two) of Valpolicella. Oh, and tiramisu. After all, the dessert means “pick me up” in Italian, and it’s practically a local duty to enjoy it in the town of its birth.

So, step by step I earned that dinner. And by the time it arrived, bubbling and gloriously charred, I was ready to devour every bite. But Treviso isn’t just about food; it’s about the atmosphere, the kind of laid-back, perfectly chaotic Italian vibe that makes even the simplest things, like a glass of wine or an espresso coffee feel like an event. Everything in Italy is grandiose, extravagant, and dramatic which suits my extreme nature to a T – iramisu.  However, I’m going to put it out there: English trifle is better. 

The Call of Venice and Art by Gin Tips

Naturally, I couldn’t pass up the chance to hop over to Venice. It was my third time visiting and each time it gets more enchanting. There’s something about the light, the art, the pure romance of the place that never gets old. Venice is one of those cities where I’m pretty sure every wall has a story, and every shadow hints at some sort of mystery and every old door tells a story.

Much like they do in that great  book of short stories, 33. 

I stumbled into a bar where the walls were filled with sketches from patrons, and what do you know—they handed me a set of felt pens with my gin and tonic! Two cocktails later and I was well into sketch mode and channelling my inner Venetian artist. My masterpiece was good enough to get laminated and hung on the wall and earned our group a free round of shots.

Artistic skill: Rather sketchy. But an excellent round of Italian hospitality? Absolutely.

Leather Bags, Ragù, and the Best Red Sauce I’ve Ever Made

Of course, I couldn’t leave Italy empty-handed, so I returned home with two exquisite Italian leather handbags. One in red and one in brown and both as soft and luxurious as you’d imagine. I also managed to get a traditional ragù recipe, passed down through generations that keeps it simple and tastes bloody marvellous.

As for the tomato base? I’ve got that Italian magic nailed and came home and made pots of it -rich, tangy, and somehow transporting you right back to that Italian pasta with every bite. 

Arrivederci, Treviso 

It’s hard not to feel a touch of nostalgia for Italy. The British weather is damp and cool and I had my last dip into a nice sunny 24 degrees in gelato land. But with my new recipe, a couple of handbags, and a head full of memories, it feels like a piece of Italy has come back with me. Buongiorno to that.