Palle D'Oro

Norm from Cheers would love this place.

The waiters here always remember your name and your favorite menu items. They "mistake" Vino Nobile di Montepulciano for cheap red table wine. They always manage to find a table in an impossibly crowded restaurant.

Located on a side street near the Mercado Centrale in Florence, the Palle D'Oro is why people go to Italy. Quiet, unassuming and oh-so-non-pretentious, the D'Oro is everything many Italian restaurants in America are not.

The patrons are a cross-section of Florence -- German businessmen, Italian families and American students to name a few -- and all are eating, drinking and socializing.

The food, however, is all Italian.

From a spaghetti al ragu to die for to the succulent bistecca alla Fiorentina, the D'Oro's fare is inexpensive, fast and molto bene. Even more important, you can take as long as you like. No one will ever ask you to leave.

The restaurant is one of those treasures that can only be discovered while walking down side streets and alleys, away from the gravitational pull of Frommer's, Michelin or of travel writers like myself.

Affairs with places like the D'Oro are the result of a chance meeting -- of a love at first sight -- and are entirely personal relationships. The Palle D'Oro is my favorite haunt; discovering your own will make it all the more special.

When I lived in Florence, I ate at least 10 meals a week at the D'Oro. My favorite waiter, who spoke very little English, would always say, "Hi, guy," when I walked in. I would invariably reply, "Grazi, ragazzi," and we would laugh. Pretty soon, I didn't even have to order. I'd sit down and 10 minutes later the first course would arrive. They even started giving me a double portion of the pasta. 'Due spaghetti al ragu," it came to be called. And this was after about two weeks.

Fourteen days, and I was already being treated like family.

Next door is a small neighborhood wine shop where the proprietors also remember your name.

If you should happen to stop by, be sure to pick up a bottle of their homemade extra virgin olive oil. Introduce yourself and tell them Wright said hello.

Because that's the kind of people they are.

And there are countless other enoteca and trattoria that I didn't discover. These purveyors of pasta and wine are your to find and treasure just as I treasure the D'Oro. They are what Italy is really about.

I lost most of the leather goods I bought in Florence a long time ago, but I will never forget the smell of the D'Oro. To this day, I can tell you how to get there from nearly any spot in the city.

The train station?

No problem. Take Via Nazionale until you get to Via Faenze. Go right. Take another right on Via S. Antonio. The Palle D'Oro will be on your left, third set of doors from the end.

The Duomo?

From Via de' Martelli, take a left on Via dei Pucci. Walk through Piazza San Lorenzo and turn right on any side street that will carry you to the Mercado Centrale. From there, take a left on Via S. Antonio.

You get the point.

So often, a trip to Italy turns into a series of photo opportunities. You end up with rolls of film filled with pictures of other people taking pictures. There is the occasional church or museum thrown in.

When you get home, however, you can't quite seem to remember whether a church was in Rome or in Florence. Or even if it was a church. The Duomo is a sight to behold, as is the David and the leaning tower and all of the other attractions along the way on an "Italy in four days" trip. But these antiquities and static reminders of an Italy past pale in the sharp contrasting light of a modern day Italy still teeming with life.

Leonardo da Vinci is dead and gone, but the waiters at the Palle D'Oro are still very much alive.

That vitality -- to this observer at least -- is why people come here from around the world. The Italians themselves are what sets apart a trattoria in Florence from the Italian restaurant at Disney World.

Well, actually it's the waiters and the bread.

Describing the bread is like describing how a banana tastes. It's better to just go and try it yourself.

There are other places in Florence that you will remember long after the trip is over, the bags are unpacked and the silly souvenirs are lost.

Take the Lion's Fountain, for instance.

Although it is called an "Irish Pub," try telling that to the tables full of Italians watching soccer on the big television in the corner. The ragazzi (boys and girls) rise and fall with each game, usually soccer unless American expats have hijacked the set during the NCAA basketball tournament. Most of the soccer fans don't care when the Duomo was built. They only care if Fiorentina is beating Inter Milan. And they are happy to let you sit down and cheer with them.

As long as you are not from Milan.

That is Italy. That is why you are here and not at the Epcot center.

Or you might want to stop and have a panini at the Cafe San Trinita, located on Via Maggio.

The owner and his daughters will remember your name if you stop by several times. They will also let you run a tab.

Or if that isn't your cup of espresso, you can have some of the best pizza in the world at Le Campane. Oh, and eat your pathetic-pie making hearts out Domino's, because the kind folks at Le Campane deliver.

Want something a little nicer that still feels "Italian?" Want to go somewhere upscale but prefer to stay away from tourist traps and their McPasta?

Then try the Cantinella Antinori, located only blocks from the Santa Maria Novella train station.

The Cantinella Antinori is an upscale trattoria/wine bar which is authentic without becoming a parody of itself.

There are literally thousands of other restaurants and establishments like these in Florence. One seems to pop up every time you turn a corner.

That's how I found the D'Oro. I was meandering (read:lost), and all of a sudden -- there it was.

Yours is out there as well.

All you have to do is find it.