As soon as Wessel and I decided to spend Thanksgiving week in Italy, I started dreaming of cioccolata calda — hot chocolate. In 1986 (!) I spent a winter in Vicenza, a lovely city about an hour west of Venice, and I was addicted to cioccolata. It’s not so much a drink, but a pudding, always served with a spoon.
The first one I had on this trip was in the university town of Padova, on the piazza across from the duomo. I was worn out, while Wessel was still wandering about, so I stopped at a café. 
The cioccolata was bellisima! I was in heaven. It was dark, rich chocolate and so thick that using the spoon was necessary. I take mine “senza panna,” ($3) but with whipped cream ($4) is always an option. I vowed to treat myself to a cioccolata daily.
Then a sad thing happened. No other cioccolatas lived up to that first one. One barista in Venice started to pour a powdered package into the cup when I order one. Basta!
Elsewhere, they had the real goods, but they weren’t as good. They weren’t as rich or thick. It was like trading in the Dean’s Sweets truffle for a drugstore Easter bunny. Still, it’s nice to relive that first tazza (cup) and know that more heavenly cioccolatas are out there.
Coincidentally, today’s New York Times has an article on thick hot chocolate in New York in its Travel section.
For you at-home hot-chocolate cooks, I found a recipe online for thick hot chocolate and it was molta buona!
Places we go, People we see 
