Twenty of the Best Restaurants in Venice by Lee Marshall
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When it comes to the best restaurants in Venice, things can change surprisingly fast and that charming osteria you've been telling your friends about for the last five years may not even be there anymore.
The following selection of twenty restaurants, bacari, cafés and pasticcerie - some famous, some known only to insiders - represents the very best of the restaurant scene in Venice at the time of writing. A few big-name restaurants - Harry's Bar, Al Covo, the Locanda Cipriani - have been left out for the simple reason that - in terms of food, service, value for money, or a combination of the three - they do not make the grade...
Al Bottegon; fondamenta Nani, Dorsoduro 992
This wine bar near the church of San Trovaso, popular both with locals and with the Anglo-Saxon expatriate community, is one of the best places in Venice to knock back an ombra or 'shadow' (the evocative local term for a glass of wine), especially on a sunny day, when quaffers and nibblers spill out onto the canalside walk and the adjacent bridge.
Sandra and Lino Gastaldi have been dispensing wine and cicheti (bar snacks) for years; two younger generations of the family now lend a hand. It's perfect for a quick lunch before or after one's fill of culture at the Accademia; the cicheti, served on slices of French bread, include the classic baccalà mantecato. The Bottegon goes under a variety of aliases; many Venetians refer to it as 'Al Cantinone', and the charming painted sign over the door reads "Cantine del Vino già Schiavi". Like many bacari, it closes early in the evening (around 9.30pm), and for an hour after lunch.
Alla Madonna; calle della Madonna, San Polo 594
"The only time I ever managed to book here was when I brought Jacques Chirac" said the man behind me in the queue. Tonight, having failed to procure a French president, he was waiting in line with the rest of us. But the turnover is fast, as the space behind this anonymous doorway on one of the narrow calli leading down to the Rialto bank of the Grand Canal is unexpectedly huge.
The food is decent, no-frills Venetian cooking; antipasti include granseola (spider crab) and cicale di mare (mantis shrimps). Secondi range from grilled fish and seafood fry-ups to ox fillets - all done with admirable competence, given the joint's proximity to culinary Venice's Heart of Darkness. Another great merit of the Madonna is that you can be in and out of here in under an hour - not always easy in Venice outside of the stand-up bacari. And the waiters are real characters, many worthy of a Fellini casting session - if not the film itself.
Alla Zucca; ponte del Megio, Santa Croce 1762
The setting of "At the sign of the pumpkin" is charming: in the heart of the down-to-earth Santa Croce area, by a crooked bridge across a canal. You'll need to book ahead to clinch one of the two tables outside; but inside is welcoming, too, with a large bar dominating the front room and plenty of pumpkin-related artwork on the walls.
Alla Zucca swims against the Venetian tide: first because there is hardly any fish on the menu, and second because the prices are astonishingly low for such assured cooking. Primi might include orecchiette (hat-shaped pasta) con broccoli or penne con sgombro affumicato e radicchio (with smoked mackerel and Treviso radicchio). Seconds cover both meat and game, but there is also - unusually for Venice - a good selection of vegetarian side-dishes that can be combined to make a complete meal. The atmosphere is pleasantly post-Woodstock (or the Italian equivalent) and the front of house staff are all female, to a man.
Alle Testiere; calle del Mondo Novo, Castello 5801
In a city of small restaurants, this has to be the smallest. It's also one of the most talked about. Beckham-shorn Luca Di Vita is the wine man; co-owner Bruno Gavagnin takes care of the food. The cuisine is based on those familiar denizens of the Adriatic - prawns, squid, mussels, fish of various kinds - that grace the tables of nine out of every ten Venetian restaurants; what is different is the way the finny tribe is prepared. Clams sautéed in ginger and black pepper, gamberetti in a coriander sauce - the big idea at the Testiere is using the spices that were once traded briskly on the Rialto to jazz up the local tradition.
And most of the time, it works; especially with the antipasti and the primi. The wine list is strong on the Veneto and surrounding regions; get Luca onto the subject of Friulian Tocai, or the relative merits of Cabernets Franc and Sauvignon, and the meal is liable to turn into a late-night tasting session. The decor is marine-funky, the prices still fair (though rising) for what is one of the city's most creative new restaurants.
Anice Stellato; fondamenta della Sensa, Cannaregio 3272
Since it opened back in 1999, this "old but new" bacaro-restaurant has taken Cannaregio by storm. The name celebrates the star anise - one of those exotic spices which Venetian merchants occasionally imported for the local market. But, with one or two exceptions, the cooking is classic Venetian seafood, done by the book. Bigoi in salsa (fat spaghetti in an anchovy and onion sauce), spaghetti con caparossoli (with clams), antipasti of folpeti (baby octopus), garusoli (sea-snails) and baccalà mantecato - such tried-and-tested favourites are competently prepared and reasonably priced (sounds like an obvious combination, but it ain't in Venice).
In summer, tables spill onto the canalside walk outside. The place has been tastefully restored - with oak beams above in the back rooms and a huge bar dominating the entrance - and the young waiters manage to be both laid back and efficient. If time is tight, come for a quick snack; the bar, with its good range of cicheti, is just as crowded as the main restaurant space.
Antiche Cantine Ardenghi; calle Testa, Cannaregio 6369
An unassuming doorway in the northern reaches of the city, across a bridge from the equestrian monument to Bartolomeo Colleoni (a mercenary captain famous for having a pair of testicles on his coat of arms). Inside is not at all what one expects of a club privée: no black laqueur, not a single tired bunny girl. Instead, once past a long bar counter, one is enveloped by the unreconstructed wine cellar decor and the operatic soundtrack. Guests have to fill in membership cards, and there is no menu; as in the best families, you eat what you're given.
Just as well, then, that what you're given is delicious: especially the endless procession of seafood antipasti - schie con polenta, cicale di mare and - a real rarity - moeche in saor (soft-shelled crabs marinated in onion, vinegar and currants). The owner, who looks like a playboy footballer, keeps guests entertained with a succession of anecdotes, culinary disquisitions and impromptu bursts of song. There are only twenty covers; what happens on any particular night depends a lot on the chemistry, and on the amount of wine being consumed. However much you eat or drink, the price is the same.
Bancogiro; campo San Giacometto, San Polo 122
Though the setting - under arches once used as storerooms, on the Rialto market square of San Giacometto - could not be more downhome Venetian, this compact winebar is trying to do something a little different. The decor is bare bricks and scrubbed marble lintels with one or two moderne touches; upstairs a few tables nestle under a low, barrel-vaulted ceiling.
Owner Andrea - a gentle giant with a huge bushy beard - has come up with an adventurous wine list (ask him for advice, as most of the prodcuers are small and local) and a small but creative range of lunch and dinner dishes that might include grilled radicchio di Treviso with blue cheese sauce, or spicy raw diced meat, from a trusted local butcher. There is little or no pasta, and no distinction between courses. The formula is still being fine-tuned, but there is enormous potential here. Around aperitivo time, the bar is crowded with happy drinkers, who spill out of the back door onto a porticoed square overlooking - believe it or not - the Grand Canal.
Busa alla Torre; campo Santo Stefano 3, Murano
Busa alla Torre, on the glass-blowing island of Murano, is dominated by the personality - and bulk - of its owner. Lele Masiol is a giant of a man with flowing auburn hair and a bushy beard; he can usually be seen wandering from table to table, dispensing advice and anecdotes, or sitting down to argue an especially vital point.
His lunch-only trattoria nestles in the corner of a pretty square across a canal from the church of San Pietro Martire. Inside a Pompeii-red villa are two comfortable, osteria-style dining rooms; outside, on propitious days, tables fill the sunny side of the square. The cuisine is reliable seafood cooking, without frills: the excellent antipasti include caparossoli saltai (sautéed clams) and bacalà e gamberetti (cod creamed in olive oil with baby prawns); primi go from the classic spaghetti alla busara (with anchovies and onions) to homemade ravioli di pesce.
If you still have an appetite after all that, you can have whatever fish Lele liked the look of at the Rialto markets that morning, grilled to perfection. Lele's team of waiters are among the most professional, and affable, on the lagoon; he poached a whole bevy of them a few years back from the Locanda Cipriani on Torcello.
Ca' d'Oro - Alla Vedova; ramo Ca' d'Oro/calle del Pistor, Cannaregio 3912
For out and out trad charm, it's hard to beat this bacaro within hopping distance of Venice's most splendid Gothic palazzo, the Ca' d'Oro. Its official name celebrates this proximity, but Venetians continue to refer to it as 'Alla Vedova' - the widow's place - after the late owner, mother of Renzo and Mirella, the brother and sister team who now run the ship.
Everything is just right, from the wood and marble bar piled high with tasty cicheti to the gleaming copper pots overhead. The young waiters offset all this history with their effortless urban cool; one has sideburns you could ski-jump off. Most people come here for the polpette - spicy meatballs - but the other cicheti are good, too - especially, in spring and autumn, the batter-fried artichokes (carciofi or, when young and tender, castraure). Primi include classics like spaghetti alle vongole as well as more adventurous fare - if you're offered homemade potato gnocchi with salmon and ricotta, just say yes. Secondi might take in seppie al nero con polenta (cuttlefish cooked in their own ink with fried polenta). But there's no need to eat a full meal here: a plate of polpette and a glass of Valpolicella is often more than enough.
Caffè Florian; piazza San Marco 56
In piazza San Marco's most famous café, you really feel the pressure of 280 years of history; but after a couple of dry martinis mixed by resident bartenders Maurizio or Massimo, the anxiety is sure to pass. There are three degrees of intimacy at Florian's. Out in the square, paying extra to be serenaded by the orchestra, is pleasant but cold. Inside, in one of the mirrored and gilded rooms that glitter and preen like a self-conscious jewel casket, is warmer. Perched at the bar - or at one of the two small tables opposite the bar, where stand-up rather than sit-down prices apply - is hot.
This is the inner sanctum: sit and watch the cream-jacketed bustle of waiters and flying trays, while enjoying a hot chocolate, or an espresso (good, but not the best in the piazza; Caffè Lavena does that) or whichever Bellini-style sparkling wine and fruit juice cocktail is currently in season. The Bellini itself - based on fresh peach juice - is only really good between July and September; in autumn, the pomegranate-juice Tintoretto comes into its own, only to lose its mantle to another painter (Giorgione, perhaps, or Titian - I forget which) as Carnevale approaches.
Corte Sconta; calle del Pestrin, Castello 3886
When it opened in 1980, Claudio Proietto's restaurant in the backwoods of the Castello area, not far from the Arsenale vaporetto stop, was a revelation. Proietto bases his daily menu on whatever the Chioggia fish market has to offer; the wee beasties are cooked, or marinated, the same way Venetians do them (or used to do them) at home. The irony is that, over the years, this militantly simple, local approach has drawn tourists, as well as Venetians, in droves.
The big thing here are the seafood antipasti - canoce or cicale di mare (mantis shrimps), garusoli (sea-snails), canestrelli (baby scallop shells), granseola (spider crab, served in its shell) and the classic sarde in saor (sardines marinated in an onion, vinegar, pine nut and sultana sauce). The primi, all based on homemade pasta, are good too. Few make it to the secondi, which is a shame, because alongside fresh grilled fish there are generally one or two more creative offerings such as calamari ripieni di radicchio di Treviso (squid stuffed with red Treviso radicchio).
If you can, leave some space for the warm zabaione, served in a glass with a spoon and a selection of Venetian biscuits for dipping. The ambience is that of a cheerful trattoria, with wooden tables and paper placemats; two dining rooms surround a pretty, vine-covered courtyard, which is a great place to eat on a summer's evening.
Da Bonifacio; calle degli Albanesi, Castello 4237
Why come to a tiny cake shop in a narrow calle behind the Doge's Palace? Because the traditional cakes - all freshly made on the premises - are delicious, and because the shop's other speciality, pizzette (mini pizzas), are perfect for an impromptu picnic on the Riva degli Schiavoni. Among the cakes, the zaleti - cornflour biscuits peppered with sultanas - are especially good.
But like many Venetian pasticcerie, Da Bonifacio is also a bar, where you can breakfast on cappuccino and corasan (marmalade-filled croissants), or sample the favourite local aperitivo - spritz. This white wine, soda water and Campari cocktail is an acquired taste; but it's worth acquiring, if only to amaze Venetians, who are not used to seeing tourists downing their sacred cocktail. When you order a spritz - which costs a risible sum - you'll be asked what kind you want. Spritz al bitter is the classic Campari-based version; spritz al aperol is more medicinal, while spritz al select is sweeter. After a couple, you'll be ready to emulate Byron, who liked to swim across the Grand Canal pushing a candle in front of him, like the Pobble (Who Had No Toes). A word of advice: don't.
Da Fiore; calle del Scaleter, San Polo 2202a
From the street - a narrow calle just west of Campo San Polo - Da Fiore looks like a traditional Venetian bacaro - which is exactly what it used to be. A small bar inside the entrance likes to give the impression that it still serves as a drinking post for locals. Beyond is the main dining room: a long, low space with half-paneled walls. It looks like a restaurant on a luxury canal barge, except that there are no windows, only discreet silk wall-coverings picked out by discreet spotlights.
Claustrophobes may have a hard time here; but foodies will exalt as Da Fiore is one of the best restaurants in Venice. A seasonally-changing menu centres on whatever fish and seafood the market offers. It's odd that Venetian cuisine has never made more of its ways with raw fish - a light antipasto of thinly-sliced tuna, scampi and baby squid proves that Adriatic sashimi can be quite as delicious as the Japanese version. A pasta dish of pennette with broccoli and scallops was excellent: nothing too fancy, just a perfect meld of flavours. Fritto misto (fried mixed seafood) fans will find a textbook version here, and the desserts are irresistible. Prices have crept up in recent years, in response to critical praise and a Michelin star; but they have resisted the galloping inflation of Harry's Bar.
Dalla Marisa; fondamenta di San Giobbe, Cannaregio 652b
Many of the seafood dishes presented today as authentic local specialities were out of the reach of ordinary Venetian families. The municipal slaughterhouse which stood at the far northern end of Cannaregio provided an alternative source of cheap protein - and it is this tradition that is celebrated at Dalla Marisa.
Only five minues from the rivers of tourist tack around the station, but miles away in spirit, this tiny bacaro perches on a corner near the top of the Canale di Cannaregio. The place may look unadorned, but the food here is something else - literally. Marisa comes from a family of butchers, and she honours her origins in dishes like the classic risotto con le secoe - a risotto made with a particular cut of beef from around the backbone, that only one or two Venetian butchers can still provide - and bollito misto (the classic north-eastern Italian boiled meat platter - more succulent than it sounds). In summer, tables spill onto the canalside fondamenta; in winter, it's always best to book, as there are a mere thirty chairs inside, and people who've eaten here once tend to come back.
Fiaschetteria Toscana; salizzada San Giovanni Grisostomo, Cannaregio 5719
A reliable, long-standing favourite, which nevertheless has its share of blemishes: the tacky artwork, the long display fridge downstairs, which hides two beautiful marble columns, the faintly military way in which guests are assigned to their tables. But one forgives the Fiaschetteria for three good reasons: fine food, a great wine list, and extremely reasonable prices.
So heads down, and let's hear it for antipasti like schie condite con polenta (schie are baby shrimps - only available locally in the late autumn); for primi such as the classic bigoli in salsa (fat spaghetti in an anchovy sauce) or the house speciality, risotto di pesce; for secondi like seppioline ai ferri (grilled baby cuttlefish) - all cooked correttamente, as an Italian would say - i.e. by the book, without nouvelle pretensions.
The Tuscan origins of this fiaschetteria (where wine in straw flasks was sold) are honoured in a range of Chianina steak dishes and in a wine list which is strong on Chiantis and Brunellos. Finally, spare a thought for the delicious deserts, made by co-owner Mariuccia.
Gran Caffè Ristorante Quadri; piazza San Marco 120
The upstairs restaurant at Quadri may well be the most opulent place to eat a meal in Venice, and it certainly has the best view - if you can secure one of the four tables that overlook the square.
From the crimson damask walls to the Murano chandeliers, from the painted rafters to mirrors so venerable they have given up trying to reflect, all is in line with Quadri's two and a quarter centuries of history. Byron, Wagner and Proust came (sadly not at the same time) to sip coffee and hot chocolate downstairs in the café itself, whose pretty painted stucco decorations are unjustly ignored by those who sit at the anonymous tables in the square.
Upstairs, service glides along as smoothly as a gondola, to a piped Palm Court soundtrack. The ambience suggests ultra-traditional food and inflated prices; but neither prediction is entirely accurate. The cuisine, which includes not only fish, meat and game but - wonder of wonders - a few clearly-signalled vegetarian options - is surprisingly light, and the prices are less damaging than one might expect - as long as you lay off the truffles. At lunch you can generally walk right up, but book for dinner - especially at weekends.
Harry's Dolci; fondamenta San Biagio, Giudecca 773
First, a few words of warning about the mothership. To claim that Harry's Bar is the best restaurant in Venice is to expose oneself to ridicule; it barely scrapes into the top ten. To claim that it is the best in Italy - as one American journalist recently did - is to risk incarceration for fraud. But for not a few of Harry's I-spend-therefore-I-am devotees, the quality is a consequence of (rather than an explanation for) the final bill.
Harry's Dolci - Arrigo Cipriani's other Venetian venture - is a far more attractive, and far less expensive option. Don't be fooled by the name; cakes and desserts are not especially prominent. In fact, the cuisine is pretty similar in quality and approach to that on offer at Calle Vallaresso; some dishes are identical. The difference is that they cost half - in some cases, slighly less (even the Bellinis are slashed).
And while Harry One is all inside, Harry Two makes the most of a stunning view across the Giudecca canal to the Zattere, with tables and chairs (plastic, it must be said) arranged under a rouched linen canopy. There is an inside here too, but to eat inside is to miss the point entirely. Come for lunch (mosquitos can be a problem in the evening), dine lightly on the house marinated salmon, followed perhaps by a risotto con scampi e zucchini and a killer chocolate cake. And enjoy that view.
La Colombina; campiello del Pergolotto, Cannaregio 1828
The owners of this late-opening wine bar and restaurant just off the Strada Nuova, near the church of San Marcuola, are so enthusiastic and dedicated to the cause of good food and wine that it's hard to believe we're in easy-profit Venice. In the single dining room, antique-rustic wooden tables and sideboards play off against the jazzy mustard-tinted walls and ceiling. At the end of the room, a large table is loaded down with bottles of wine.
The menu - like the kitchen - is small, but Biba Candiani is a talented and creative chef, and as well as preparing simple but succulent antipasti (Sicilian bruschetta, or raw salmon marinated in dill sauce) and traditional Venetian primi like spaghetti ai caparossoli (with clams), she can also pull out the stops with mod-Med dishes such as the excellent involtini di pesce spada con caponata (swordfish rolls with Sicily's answer to ratatouille).
Flexibility is the keyword: you can eat a whole meal or just one dish, or play at matching a wide selection of cheeses with wines from a list that extends way beyond the north-east of Italy, guided by the restaurant's wine expert and front man, Alberto Metope. The prices are extraordinarily reasonable and - dulcis in fundo - tables spill out into the little campiello outside on summer evenings.
Vini da Gigio; fondamenta San Felice, Cannaregio 3628a
For around three years now, this cosy, all-indoors restaurant, on a quiet canal just north of the Ca' d'Oro, has had one of the best quality/price ratios in Venice. As a result, it's always packed, and one should book at least three or four days in advance. Fish, meat and game all feature on the menu, in dishes firmly rooted in the Venetian tradition, though with the occasional creative touch.
Razor clams or cape longhe - a common enough antipasto around these parts - come fried in batter, still in their shells. Non-fishy secondi include an excellent rendition of the classic fegato alla veneziana (liver in a sweet onion sauce). The decor is rustic-elegant, with waist-high wooden paneling and cream walls; and the wine list is a well-priced delight, especially strong on bottles from the Veneto, Alto Adige and Friuli.
The one big drawback is the service, which gives the illusion of haste, but is in fact excrutiatingly slow. On my last visit, a small American boy on the next table began to chant "Daddy wants the bill", much to the embarrassment of his parents; I was on his side. Vini da Gigio is the sort of place where you find yourself drunk by the time the pasta arrives, and start to nod off over the dessert. If this happens, stray from the banks of Lethe just long enough to order a sgroppin - a vodka and lemon sorbet chaser that is the traditional (and entirely legal) Venetian equivalent of a line of cocaine.
Like to know more about food in the City of Light? Check out Lee Marshall's guide to how to eat and drink in Venice or see more travel writing about Italy. For somewhere truly sensational to stay check out our selection of luxury hotels in Venice.
This article originally appeared in Conde Nast Traveller (UK)