- Mike Sula
- Lampredotto, Nonna’s
When I first visited Florence as a young whelp I was too much of a wuss to try the city’s signature panini di lampredotto, a tripe sandwich sold from street stalls all over the city. Historically a workingman’s sandwich, it was a cheap, high-protein way to fill up on the way to the olive orchards. But it’s maintained its appeal despite its filling: the abomasum, or a ruminant’s fourth stomach, which resembles “bundles of dirty dishcloths” as the The Oxford Companion to Italian Food puts it, and can smell fairly miasmic if not properly cleaned. Typically it has to be bleached before it’s stewed with celery, onions, and carrots and piled on a crusty roll—topped with a parsley-based salsa verde—and dunked in the beefy brodo, just like an Italian beef.
If you feel like courting controversy you could argue that the panini di lampredotto is like the ur-Italian beef. You can even order it with giardiniera, and assume the Italian Stance at the three stool counter that provides the only seating in the joint.
- Mike Sula
- Nonna’s
