The Cracked Egg

In Venice, restaurants offering good quality at fair prices were harder to find than anywhere else in Italy.

The closer a restaurant was to a popular attraction, the more expensive it was. That was a universal rule. Venetians generally cooked and ate at home.

If they really wanted to dine out together, they would go near the Jewish quarter or St. Barnabas Church in Dorsoduro, where meals generally cost around twenty to thirty euros. After eight thirty in the evening, anyone looking for food on the streets had better be prepared to be fleeced.

The main island had heavy foot traffic, making business easier. On islands like Burano Island, far from the main island and visited mostly by photography enthusiasts, dining cost even more than on the main island. After all, once they had finally caught a fish, why would they let it get away?

"Render unto God what is God's, and unto Caesar what is Caesar's." The Republic of Venice was a city-state where art and trade ranked above faith. The brilliance of the Renaissance lay in viewing the world from the perspective of imperfect, impure people, rather than standing like God on the heights of morality and looking down upon humanity.

Venetians conducted business, watched plays, and went to church on Sundays. When it was time to rest, they rested; they were not so hardworking that they earned money all the time. They used cunning intelligence to make the most money in the shortest time. They did not attract customers through low profits and high volume. If you did not want to be fleeced, you had better keep your wits about you.

Those country-bumpkin knights of the Fourth Crusade did not understand prices. The Venetians gave them an outrageously high estimate and trapped them with it. In the