Cibrèo
8 r Via A. Del Verrocchio
Firenze, IT
055 234 11 00

When Lisa and I decided to go to Italy, there was only one restaurant I knew I wanted to visit. I've been reading about it for years; it has as much foodie buzz as any restaurant in Italy, if not more. Last time I came to Florence it was closed for the August holiday, but this time I was determined to get a table. The restaurant is Cibrèo, and the first thing I did when we got to Florence was make a reservation.

Cibrèo, named for a classic Tuscan peasant stew made from chicken gizzards, is tucked away in a dark corner of the neighborhood of Santa Croce, where in my experience most of Florence's gastronomic treats are to be found. The ebullient chef-proprietor, Fabio Picchi, looks like a cross between Santa Claus and Rasputin, and over the past twenty years he and his wife have built a mini-empire of gastronomy in Florence, including the restaurant, a smaller trattoria, a café, and a gourmet shop. It's said that every morning purveyors from around the region bring their very best products to Picchi's door for his personal inspection. In my mind's eye the scene somewhat resembles a feudal ritual of vassals bringing tribute to their manor lord. The best of the best is selected by the chef and served in the restaurant that same night. The purveyors know that their products are in good hands; Picchi is world-renowned as the mad genius of Tuscan cuisine.

Diners in search of the perfect plate of pasta should steer clear of Cibrèo; Picchi does not serve any. What he does serve depends entirely on which ingredients have met his rigorous standards, and as a result Cibrèo has no written menu. Instead, a member of the wait staff sits down at your table when you arrive to explain to you - in Italian, French, or English - what the chef has prepared on that particular evening. A runner may dash from the kitchen to notify your waiter that a particular dish has been finished; he will apologize to you as he crosses the item off his crib sheet.

Once you have placed your order, a parade of amuses begins to arrive. There is a variation on the classic Tuscan crostini with liver paste, on a precious little square of untoasted white bread. An equally precious square of herbed cheese gratin accompanies it, as does a plate of hand-sliced prosciutto. One last crostini arrived a moment later; a toast square topped with melted cheese studded with bits of candied fruits. This is one of Picchi's favorite tricks, to deliver the magical trinity of fat, salt, and sugar in a single bite. When these three elements - each of which we have an instinctive craving for - are combined in perfect balance, you will always be left wanting more. This technique not lost on the best chefs: David Waltuck uses it in his prosciutto, fig, and foie gras pinwheel amuses at Chanterelle. Picchi is a bit more mischievous, but his alchemy gets it right every time.