One of my favourite things to do in Italy, as is the case with many who visit, is eat and drink. I tend to focus on the drinking, but that usually brings me back to the eating, especially if there’s prosciutto anywhere nearby (hint: there always is).
Basically, after work, from 6 to 8, or even until 9, Italians (at least in the North) celebrate happy hour! The notion itself isn’t really a novel concept to us North Americans, but the Italian iteration is truly a sight to behold.
What had initially started as a small accoutrement to a pre-dinner drink has turned into a proper spectacle, with bars offering even more extravagant nibbles to entice locals and tourists alike.
When your drink is brought to the table (in Brescia it’s most likely a pirlo**), it is accompanied usually by a few small dishes with nuts and chips and olives. Some places will add simply some mortadella, bread, and cheese while others offer more, such as breadsticks, skewered shrimp and friend things of unknown origin (all delightful).
At the most popular places that are offering an apericena (an aperitivo/dinner), there is a full buffet of finger foods and snacks. Little fried pastry things, breads with sauces and cheeses, anchovies (oh my!). Thinly sliced meats! Spicy things! And, my all-time favourite: a hollowed-out half-wheel of parmesan filled with large chunks of the king of cheese!
Now, common sense and polite manners may dictate that one should fill only a small plate at a time, per drink purchased. Don’t believe the travel magazines (here’s lookin’ at you Lonely Planet!). The economy has changed, times are tough, so get there early and get your fill! While the predominant Italian culture seems to dictate quiet restraint in these moments (after all, this is what you eat before you eat), there seems to be no taboo with going back for seconds, and I’ve witnessed on more than one occasion several native children slowly sipping their drink, blocking the buffet and surreptitiously snacking until sufficiently suffonsified.
Just last night I had the great pleasure of sharing an aperitivo with some others from the English speaking world, and we couldn’t possibly wrap our heads around the profitability of such a venture. What the heck do the margins look like? Sure, the prices may be slightly inflated (five euro instead of four for a cocktail or glass of wine), but that hardly seems enough to justify such an enormous loss-leader as these bounteous buffets, especially with us gluttonous Anglos around.
It should be mentioned that the vast majority of places stop refilling their buffets at 7PM, so since the typical dinner begins between 8 to 9PM, there’s still a whole other meal in which one can be upsold. I now imagine that must be precisely it, especially considering the lack of minimum wage keeping their overhead on staff to a minimum. Heck, my three pirlo paid for five man-hours!
Unfortunately, I am not Italian, so I ate too much too quickly, and instead of risking a tummy ache decided to leave before the dinner hour, so I could hit the hay, digest, and try again tomorrow.
**the pirlo is Brescia’s version of the Venetian spritz. The former with plain white wine, the latter with prosecco, plus a bitter (in my case Aperol), a splash of soda and a slice of orange.
A Nix in Brixia 
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