BY ROGER WATSON
The screams of swifts echo off the buildings as they swoop down from great heights to gorge on insects flying just about twenty feet overhead. The evening is balmy, and diners are beginning to gather at the finest trattoria in Boccadasse, the exquisite fishing village at the end of Corso Italia in Genoa.
My wife and I find ourselves at Osvaldo, where we first dined over a decade ago. I have been fortunate enough to visit several times over the past fourteen years, but this was my wife’s first return.
As soon as we walked into the charming square off the harbour where the restaurant is situated, the owner recognised me and beckoned us over. As usual, the restaurant was fully booked, and, as ever, I hadn’t booked in advance. She told us to return in twenty minutes. We did, and our table was ready.
In summer, Osvaldo’s capacity doubles as they set up tables under parasols in the quaint square. This is a prime spot for people-watching as locals come and go from the surrounding buildings, always exchanging words with the owner. Occasionally, a tourist stumbles upon the square, tries their luck with the owner, but is politely informed there are no free tables. This prompts a comment from my wife that I am “loving this,” and she’s right.
Situated in a fishing village, the menu is naturally dominated by seafood. Apart from Ursula Andress in “Dr. No,” I have a limited capacity for most things that come from the sea. However, there are some signature dishes around the seafood, and being a creature of habit, I always opt for these.
The owner is cautious about changing the menu, and I get the impression that, in the case of Osvaldo, familiarity breeds respect. The signature dishes remain but have been updated and refined slightly over the years without losing their essential character. Thus, as I do on every visit, my antipasti was zucchini flan and for primi, I had the pansotti.
For anyone who turns their nose up at courgette, I urge you to set aside your reservations and try the flan. It almost doesn’t taste like courgette and is served in a unique creamy sauce that simply must be mopped up with the copious amounts of bread provided. Pansotti is a local dish of shell-shaped pasta served in a walnut sauce. Again, the excess sauce pairs nicely with the bread.
Both of these dishes are available in Genoa at other restaurants such as Rosemarino off Piazza di Ferrari. However, good luck booking a table there, and try not to flinch when they present the bill. Osvaldo, in contrast, is remarkable for being reasonably priced.
My wife opted for the seafood mélange, mainly squid and a few other fish, served with tempura vegetables, which she found difficult to finish—delicious but voluminous.
There is no wine list at Osvaldo. One of the waitresses, a large girl always dressed flamboyantly, is the sommelier. She recites a list of wines from memory. It has been many years since Osvaldo stocked one of my favourite whites, Cinque Terre, so I always select another local wine and have never been disappointed. I have never been disappointed in the price either.
After a long, leisurely dinner topped off with grappa—always “morbida” (smooth)—with the swifts still dive-bombing from above, the sun sets, and the lights illuminate the square. Osvaldo is still welcoming customers as we leave for our hotel (another hidden gem of Genoa). It is uphill all the way, and there is no better way to end the evening than to visit Excelsia, possibly the best gelato counter in Genoa. There is always a queue. Scooping out creamy gelato and a scoop of fragola with the scent of jasmine in the air is an abiding memory of my years working in Genoa.
Sitting out on our balcony, my wife reminded me of my propensity to do little except complain about my international work, the locations, restaurants, and the people who look after me. I have a habit of emphasising the problems: the delayed flights, quirky hotels, and colleagues who exasperate me. She reminded me that I was probably one of the luckiest people in the world. Reflecting on my years in Genoa, Boccadasse, and especially Osvaldo, I sometimes think she’s right.
Roger Watson is a Registered Nurse and Editor-in-Chief of Nurse Education in Practice.