Two shops to visit in Bologna and Venice if you like stationery stuff
plus one for amari
Are you going to Bologna or Venice? Do you like pens, printmaking, or bittersweet liqueurs? Then good news: I spent half of February in these cities AND I HAVE RECOMMENDATIONS!1
And let’s go straight into them! (No one likes those recipe pages where you have to read ten paragraphs of someone’s life story before you get to the recipe, you know?)
Bologna: A.C Vecchietti, for writing implements
Bologna has A LOT of stationery stores and this was my favorite one, with one of the biggest selections of fountain pens and writing implements I’ve seen in person outside of a pen show.
The shop is owned by the same family who owns the Nettuno brand, and like the Pineider family store in Florence they do a nice job of presenting their own brand without pushing it—the Nettuno stuff is in a side display and the woman who helped me didn’t bring it up until I asked about it specifically (at which point she explained a whole bunch).
I wanted to check out the “forever” pens2 that seem to be popular in Italy—one of the churches we visited in Bologna sold Jubilee-themed versions—and she let me try out a bunch of them. I ended up buying a Pininfarina Aero (above), which I love and will cover later. If you do a day trip to Bologna and only have time for one shop, this is the one I’d visit—it’s a short walk northwest of the Piazza Maggiore in the city center.
Venice: Antica Stamperia, for printmaking
My wife found this place in a CNN article, I think; I have no idea how, as it’s hidden away in the northern neighborhoods of Old Venice. It doesn’t show up on Google Maps at the moment (it did two days ago, so I’m assuming it’s a glitch), but it’s on Calle del Fumo, next to Inkae Tattoo, and the owner seemed legitimately surprised we came there. As in, he literally asked us why we came.3
That’s because this isn’t really a retail shop; it’s basically the printing press for the rich and famous, where ancient stamping plates are used to make ultra-high-quality stationery for those who can afford it. They did have some stuff already printed, and I bought a small print from the original Pinocchio (below), but it’s really where you go to get wedding invitations if you’re getting married in a glorious old castle and also the castle is your house.
The proprietor was super friendly and funny and showed us the machines and plates they use. All of this work appears to be done by snail mail correspondence (or showing up in person, like we did), and he showed us stacks of orders from various parts of the world. He also has a little museum next door, and he was taking a Scottish couple (whom were making a pilgrimage as retired printmakers if I remember correctly) through it when my wife and I left.
This place is not close to any of the main sights in Venice, and if you’re only there a day it might be a tough one to make. But if you have the time and even a remote interest in printmaking, it’s pretty cool to see the old methods still in use.
Bonus Venice shop: Drogheria Mascari, for amari
If you’re the sort of person who reads this blog, you’re probably also the kind of person who—if you drink alcohol at all—prefers niche liqueurs, especially those that others find gross. You’re the type of person who likes fernet.
And hey, as someone who toured the Branca distillery in Milan: same, friend! You should definitely visit Drogheria Mascari, located by the Mercato Rialto in San Polo, for a wild selection of amari. I picked up a bottle of Jefferson (Calabria) and Nostrano, which is made by the owners of a restaurant a little bit away from the shop.
That pretty much tapped out how much I could bring home, which is a shame because they have shelves and shelves of this stuff at very good prices, while just finding something like Braulio is a challenge in the US. My only regret is that I didn’t know how easy it is to find Jefferson in Italy—it’s even in the duty-free shop at Bologna’s airport—and I probably would have picked up something else super-local like the Nostrano had I known that.
All of these shops were staffed with people with good English, though trying to hack your way through Italian gets you a long way as always.
You might remember these when they hit the market a few years back—instead of transferring ink/graphite to the page, they use a chemical reaction that oxidizes the paper with what looks like a permanent pencil mark. Not for everyone, but I like them quite a bit.
To be fair, this may be because of personal style—it does look like we’d be more looking for the tattoo parlor than a printmaking shop, so that may have been why he asked.