A historic spot serving cicchetti and wine since 1944 – as soon as you walk in, you’ll notice it’s part osteria, part wine shop, with a huge selection of mostly local labels lining the counter, and a beautiful all-wood interior. Behind the counter is Alessandra, who has invented around 70 cicchetti of her own, ranging from classics to more daring combinations.

We couldn’t skip the baccalà mantecato, one of the classics and the one we’d been told was especially good here – and they were right. It’s also a dish with a great story: it was born out of a shipwreck. In 1431, Venetian merchant Pietro Querini washed up on Norway’s Lofoten Islands, where locals showed him how they preserved cod by drying it. He brought the technique home to Venice, where it quickly caught on for being cheap, long-lasting, and needing no refrigeration. What started as a poor man’s food is now considered refined – the original recipe has the fish whipped by hand with olive oil until it turns into a smooth cream, and getting that consistency just right is no easy feat.

Bacareto da Lele is one of the most famous bacari in Venice, and also one of the most authentic. It’s tiny, always packed, and the service is friendly, if a little chaotic. There’s no seating – you either grab a spot on the church steps outside or stand. Here they serve small panini with all sorts of fillings, so you just pick based on what you’re craving, plus a glass of wine, obviously. It’s super cheap, and honestly, the bread isn’t the best you’ll ever have – but the atmosphere makes up for it, energetic and genuinely convivial. This is a place where true Venetians, tourists, students, and workers all end up side by side, no barriers, no differences, the real spirit of the bacaro.

Hidden at the end of a quiet calle, this place isn’t easy to stumble upon, and that’s not by accident. It naturally separates those who know from those who don’t – a space built to be found by locals, not visitors. Generations of young Venetians have grown up around here, and they still come back, sipping wine and nibbling on the famous polpette, which have become a real institution at La Vedova. Once inside, you can either order something to go from the small deli counter, or sit down and eat like in a proper trattoria.

We went for the polpette, of course. We can’t tell you the exact ingredients, but we can tell you there’s definitely garlic in there, and they’re really good. Venetians often just stop by to grab one as a snack and eat it on the go. And the name? It tells a story of its own: the place used to be run by a couple, and when the husband passed away, his wife kept it going on her own. Regulars started saying ‘let’s go to the widow’s place’ – and the name just stuck. While we were there, we actually met the nephew and he confirmed the whole thing – the widow was his grandmother.

This is a more modern take on the bacaro – with more refined cicchetti and wines, and gastronomically speaking, definitely the best of the bunch. All the classic bacaro traits are still here: a tiny place serving wine and cicchetti, just with a more contemporary vibe and less history behind it, feeling like a possible evolution of the format. The wine list is genuinely impressive, full of interesting, sought-after labels – and obviously, the prices go up a bit here too.

We tasted a wine called Civile, from Colle Regina, made with Regent – a PIWI grape variety, meaning it’s naturally resistant to fungal diseases and needs very little treatment in the vineyard. PIWI grapes had their moment, then got overshadowed by more “classic” varieties for decades, but with climate change pushing growers toward more sustainable, low-intervention viticulture, they’re now making a comeback.

As for the food, we tried a bunch of different cicchetti, and they were all excellent – a nice touch is that they warm each one slightly before serving it.

From Cantine del Vino già Schiavi, keep walking straight and you’ll get to Osteria al Squero. The name comes from what’s right across the water: the place sits directly facing the Squero di San Trovaso, one of the last active gondola workshops in the city – so whether you’re inside by the window or eating outside, you can watch gondolas being built and restored.

Here we tried the cicchetto with sarde in saor, another classic of the tradition: fried sardines marinated with onions, raisins, and pine nuts, a technique fishermen developed to keep their catch edible for days at sea, with no refrigeration – just like the baccalà, another dish that became a staple thanks to how well it kept. We tried their version too, but honestly still preferred the one at Cantine del Vino già Schiavi.