(Annecy, France)

My second day in Annecy was quite different from the first. At the end of the first day, I realized that the city was hosting a big marathon race…and well as some shorter races for those less inclined to run for 26 miles. One of the waterfront parks was completely closed off to handle the administration of all of those races.

On top of that, all the street vendors from the first day’s antique market seem to have disappeared. So, while the main street was still rather busy, it wasn’t nearly as crowded as the first day. I did feel more relaxed downtown. Some of my technological issues resolved. And I also felt better after getting a full night’s sleep.

But the finishing touch to the second day turnaround came from an unlikely source. In my pre-trip research, I had learned that “The Little Italy” restaurant was ranked the highest of all 100+ pizzerias in Annecy. This surprised me for several reasons.

Firstly, restaurants in France with English names attract suspicion from me. Were they just trying to lure homesick English-speaking tourists? Secondly, the restaurant was on Annecy’s busiest pedestrian street, with tables spilling out onto the sidewalk. This raised the risk that the location was taking a priority over quality. Thirdly, the pizza names were mostly based on “The Godfather”: the Corleone, the Cosa Nostra, etc. That didn’t seem too “authentic”.

But even on a rainy Sunday evening, the place was nearly packed. I told myself to trust the experts and give it a try, despite the many red flags. I managed the secure the second-last available outdoor table, which was in the middle and very close to the street. I ordered a Pizza Sinatra, which is made up of tomato sauce, fior de latte mozzarella, fontina cheese, speck, oregano, and olives. And to drink, a glass of lambrusco, a glass of sparkling red wine.

I was very happy with the meal. There was a *lot* of cheese, and the fontina worked well. It was a very substantial pizza, considering how thin the crust was. I was able to spice it up a little with some pepper-infused oil. And they did *not* charge for the bread sticks or the water that appeared on the table: some Italian restaurants levy a cover charge (coperto) for the bread and water if you touch them at all.

Best of all, I didn’t feel either ignored or “overserved” – they had found the perfect balance. And they were very helpful when I returned to the restaurant later looking for my lost electronic hotel card. They found it under my table and retrieved it with a minimum of fuss. So, despite all the red flags, “The Little Italy” turned out to be a satisfying final meal in Annecy. And, in turn, I ended up feeling a lot better about the town after the underwhelming first day. Maybe the problem that day was just a jetlagged and cranky me, rather than Annecy itself!