Named a hill of flint in the Roman era, Monselice served as a quarry for the paving in Piazza San Marco in Venezia. It’s a walled town in a dramatic position, with a looming background hill crowned by a castle. We are stopping, at the recommendation of the Este Ceramiche’s owner Giovanni Fadigati, for a late, late lunch at Ristorante La Torre, next to the town’s thirteenth-century Torre dell’Orologio, clock tower. We’re late and in the restaurant, only an ancient woman and her daughter are left dining.
Here’s where I have the best pasta ever.
The waiter comes out with a box of white truffles. “The first of the year,” he says. “I recommend the ravioli filled with Taleggio, served with truffles and a touch of butter.” We wait with a glass of prosecco. Then comes the pile of thin lardo surrounded by quarters of figs and sliced smoked goose breast with toasts and curls of butter.
The plain pasta bowls arrive and the woodsy scent of the truffles rises. The ravioli is light, not chewy. Taleggio is one of my favorite cheeses, and this has melted to a creamy richness that marries the generous shavings of truffle.
“This is good?” the waiter asks. No, it’s heaven.
UP THE HILL after lunch. It’s hot. This via al Santuario passes Villa Nani-Mocenigo, whose tall stone walls are decorated with eighteenth-century stone statues of dwarfs. They used to be the mascots at court, of course, and many have been immortalized by painters. What the story is for this villa, I don’t know. Nani means “dwarfs.” I recall a story of a rich family, all small, who didn’t want their daughter to know she was different, and so hired only nani. The girl’s companion, however, began to grow and I don’t remember the no-doubt unsettling end.
The dwarf-topped wall is alive with the biggest caper plants I’ve ever seen. A vast stone stairway leads to some intriguing garden but, of course, the gate is locked. We climb to the top, rewarded with the Santuario delle Sette Chiese, six pretty chapels, each with a different painting above the altar. They’re architecturally identical. The Villa Duodo (1593) and the octagonal Chiesa di San Giorgio, the seventh, larger chapel end the sanctuary walk.
On the way down, we veer into other streets. Now all we have to do is find where we parked the car.