Here comes the Swedish banker and his disgusting Italian girlfriend

There is a restaurant called Cencio La Parolaccia in the centre of Rome, not far from the Vatican. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever been to before.

It is a fairly small establishment. They have room for maybe 60 guests, tops. If you are two, you may find yourself sharing a table with another couple. You have to book, because it is fully booked months in advance.

Dinner starts at 8pm. Furthermore, there is no menu. It is the chef who decides what is served. Vegetarian options are available, but no vegan stuff. If you have made-up allergies, sensitivity to gluten or a blue-haired feminist, this is definitely not the restaurant for you.

The two times I’ve visited La Parolaccia, the menu has been about the same. Charcuterie plate with bread as a starter, spaghetti or some other pasta as the first course, and then a large plate of mixed grill meat pieces and sausages. This is accompanied by unlimited amounts of red wine, which comes in large bottles with woven straw around the bottom half, also called fiasco.

Now to the point, the reason why I love this restaurant, and why you absolutely must book a dinner here the next time you visit the eternal city: They insult all their guests.

Yes, you read that right. Anyone who comes through the door is handed a rude insult by the waiter as he shows you to your table. In my case, he shouted loudly to the kitchen, across a packed restaurant: “here comes the Swedish banker and his disgusting Italian whore, now dinner can finally start!"

The room erupted with laughter. Chiara was shocked, but recovered quickly. She laughed as she translated what the waiter had said. After only a few minutes, the next guests entered. They got the exact same politically incorrect treatment from the staff. It was wonderful.

I realised we should have arrived earlier. This was a lot of fun. Everyone in the room sat in dead silence, anticipating the next guests to walk through the door.

When all the guests arrive, the dinner begins. Like I said, no menu. You can just decide how much food you want to eat. During the evening, you can expect to be insulted at least a couple more times. I was both a "capitalist pig" and a "perverted old man."

The waiter asked Chiara if she really couldn’t find a better looking boyfriend. “Have you seen his gigantic ears?” he said out loud as he pointed to my right ear. Absolutely amazing. I loved it. Best evening ever.

Once an hour, dinner was interrupted for sing-alongs or magic tricks. It is sung in Italian, parodies of well-known songs, but with obscene lyrics mixed in. On one occasion, the waiter conjured a “middle finger” out of a hat, which he then proudly held up in the direction of the guests.

“Grazie mille per tutti!” This amount of immature humor can definitely be deemed as offensive to a more sensitive audience.

However, this suits me perfectly. I love immature and offensive humor. Often far more than it is allowed. The experience at Cencio La Parolaccia was very refreshing. I hadn’t had this much fun in a very long time.

The concept has been tested in Palermo, Sicily. It did not work. The owner ended up getting murdered.

Would the concept work in your home town? What do you think? Send us an e-mail.

Peter Ternström

peter@granturismo.org