Tag Archives: Food

Out of my mind

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I must have been out of my mind!

It’s the only explanation.

You may remember, when I went to the UK the last time, I was having a coffee with Best Mate and saw a croissant (brioche, here) that looked delicious.

I was thinking of the brioches that we have at our local café. What I got, of course, was the British equivalent, which is is no way equivalent except that they look similar. It was not fresh – out of the oven that morning but, rather, several days old. It was dreadful.

I had a lot to drink on Friday night. The next morning I was up early to catch the flight home. I needed coffee – even if I knew the coffee wouldn’t be that good.

After checking in, I went to find coffee. Costa Coffee in the departure lounge seemed the best bet. there was a queue – a long queue. The woman behind mentioned that she would like a bacon sandwich. Mmmmm, I thought. Yes a bacon sarnie would be just right.

I wait. The queue is NOT inching forward. Of course, there’s not a queue in an Italian bar but the staff are incredibly quick and they are, normally, very good at working out who’s next but, anyway, I’m used to it now so can usually get my coffee quite quickly.

I feel that some serious training, given by Italians to the British, would be useful. They are not slow – they are bloody useless. I look at my watch. My plane will be boarding in about 20 minutes. They finish serving the customer at the head of the queue. The queue inches forward. I count the number of people and realise that, at this speed, if I am lucky, I will get my coffee and bacon sarnie about 10 minutes after my plane has boarded.

Oh well, I think, I shall just go somewhere else.

I leave the queue.

The only somewhere else is Burger King or the pub.

I opt for Burger King. After all, I remember the burgers as quite good – well, better than McDonald’s anyway!

I look at their offerings. I wonder why we’ve always got to look up at these places.

They have a Bacon Butty. It includes egg, which I don’t really want and cheese, which I also don’t really want but, OK, I can eat it. I order cappuccino too. I pay £5 something. Normally, in our local bar, we pay €4.80 for two cappuccinos and two brioches. Ah well, who cares, I think.

I sit at the table and unwrap my Bacon Butty.

I will try to describe it.

First, it is small – no bigger than my palm. The bread is soft but not soft as in soft bread but more like hot bread that has been run under a tap. Soft in a wet sense. The egg is not, of course, a fried egg. Nor is it some scrambled egg. It is a burger made of an egg-like substance. I suppose you could say it was like scrambled egg except that it really isn’t.

The bacon is thin – but so thin it is thinner than Italians cut their meat. Wafers are thicker. It tastes of bacon.

I liberally spread tomato sauce over it all. I have to hold the bun carefully, just in case the wet bun starts to disintegrate with gravity. I am convinced that, if I squeezed the bun, I would get about a quarter of a pint of water from it.

It is vile and not really food but it is, perhaps and only perhaps, better than nothing.

The cappuccino is interesting. The froth on a cappuccino is supposed to be thick and creamy. It seems that, whoever has been learning about cappuccinos has heard the thick bit and accordingly, the froth is so thick that the plastic stirrer stands up. In fact, it is difficult to move it around. Well, at the end of it, it tastes vaguely like coffee.

I can’t forget the Bacon Butty though. The wet bun, the terrible egg, the whole experience.

But, I wonder at how the British people got to a stage where this was acceptable. Where slow service (Costa Coffee) and bad coffee and this Bacon Butty were considered to be acceptable. Indeed, where the Bacon Butty came to be considered food?

I don’t think I could go back and live in the UK, not least because of the food. I must have been out of my mind.

Wonderful time and fantastic surprises.

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Well, I suppose I’d better start by wishing my faithful readers a glorious and happy 2012. And to say sorry for not posting over the festive period.

Christmas was, as expected, wonderful, even if I did wake on Christmas morning with what seemed like ‘flu. I ignored it. I felt much better by Wednesday.

So the highlights were:

The best present I got from F was not the vaporetto (steam cleaner) that F was so delighted with giving me but the snow globe with the pictures of the dogs inside. Don’t get me wrong, the vaporetto is wonderful but I think that if I tell you that F’s excited question (as if a small boy with a new toy) later on Christmas Day of ‘Shall we use the vaporetto now?’ you will agree that nothing more needs to be said.

V’s Dad phoned me on Christmas Day. It was such a nice surprise and I was speechless. They never phone. They hardly ever phoned when V and I were together and so it was such a wonderful ‘present’. His Mum phoned on New Year’s Day to wish me Happy New Year. So nice of them.

On Christmas Day we cooked together most of the morning and ate together most of the afternoon. I couldn’t have wished for anything better (well, I suppose I could have wished for no ‘flu – but I’m not complaining). We opened presents, we had fun.

Of course, not everything was perfect over the period. I learnt that he really doesn’t have patience and also that he really doesn’t like the fact that I won’t argue with him – but really! A light in the bathroom, overcooked lentils, not being able to fit the roasting net over the cotechino, not being perfectly ready in time for our New Year’s Eve guests – none of these things are actually important things. Well, not to me, anyway. The light in the bathroom deserves it’s own post. Oh yes, and in addition to the lack of patience and me not arguing, one could add that he doesn’t listen to me – but then, that’s not really new :-)

I know that, for a lot of people, they are glad to see the back of 2011 but not me. It was a wonderful year and one of the happiest I’ve ever had. I hope that 2012 will be the same both for me and for all you out there.

The Chritsmas Spirit; Friends from across the water.

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“Did you like the thing on the table in the lounge?”; he grins as he asks this of me.

“What thing?”, I ask back. Of course, I knew he had been there, dropping off some jars of antipasto stuff for Christmas day lunch. But they had been in the kitchen. Although I had put some washing out to dry in the lounge I had, as normal, failed to look at anything. I am a man. It’s not an excuse – just a fact.

He is obviously excited about it. In fact, he seems very excited about Christmas all round. Which is lovely.

I go back home and look on the table. There is a festive table centrepiece. All green and gold and red. I tell him it is lovely – which it is – but more for the fact that he is making such an effort with everything this year. Not that it is really effort – at least, I think he’s doing it because he’s really looking forward to it.

The previous morning, we had gone for breakfast and, on the way back, we popped into the Chinese shop round the corner from me. He had decided that he didn’t like the lights round the doorways in the lounge. They were not the right shade of white. He bought two more sets of lights that were the right shade of white.

In the evening we went to Baia Chia – the Sardinian restaurant. A colleague (of mine from 18 years ago, he said – and it was probably true) and his wife (whom I had never met) are over in Milan and we had agreed to go out. Also, Stef was over from the US. An also joined us and so we were six.

We had a fabulous meal. I miss Stef and Nicole quite a lot so it was particularly good to see him. He has gone very American though and all the good work I had put into teaching him British English has been for nothing. Obviously, it’s OK but it was funny to hear him speak with an American accent and use words live ‘beverages’ when he meant ‘drinks’.

We also had a lot to drink. Indeed, between the six of us we must have had the best part of two bottles of Mirto after all the wine! F was a little drunk. When we arrived home, he started trying to put up the new lights. I told him not to do it because he was drunk. He did one but left the other until the morning, thank goodness.

And now the flat is nearly ready. The only room which has not had the full ‘spring clean’ is the bedroom – to be done on Christmas Eve.

And, unusually for me, I did some Christmas shopping on Sunday! This just shows how much I am into the Christmas spirit this year. This could be the very best Christmas ever :-D

Gnocchi Fritti and the Tree

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He couldn’t wait until Sunday.

Friday evening we had been out at one of the shops’ Christmas ‘do’. His colleague insisted she take her partner so I was invited too. We went to a place a long way out of Milan, near the shop. It was fabulous. Gnocchi Fritti is one of those wonderful Italian foods that I had never heard of until I had lived here for a while. Pronounced knockey free-tee, it is a thin, deep fried dough so that it puffs up with air and resembles a very small cushion – a few centimetres square. They are deep fried and served hot. Once you have one you slice or pull it open and put in some lardo, salami or other meat and then eat it.

Whereas that might not sound particularly appetising it is one of the best ‘comfort foods’ I can think of. And, if the meat is particularly good, so much the better. In this case we were at the Trattoria Campanini, a delightful restaurant in Busseto. This was a special Christmas do and, therefore, menu. It included the gnocchi fritti (seemingly without end), three different pasta dishes, wine, water and desert. Mine was some chocolate mouse thing and was the best of all the sweets, although they were all good.

It had been planned that we would stay at a local hotel. Unfortunately, Milan had a traffic block on both Friday and Saturday so we had to return that night. However, it was a lovely evening and the guys and girls from the shop were really nice – a good crowd.

The next day, even if we had arrived home very late, we weren’t up so late at all. After the dogs and breakfast, F was itching to put up the tree. On the way home from walking the dogs he had bought some red crepe paper to cover the bucket.

So, the tree was put up. It’s a nice (actually perfect) size for the table it is on and the room in general. Then came the decorating of the tree. F, being a visual merchandiser (it used to be called window dresser – although he does more than that, of course), had already decided how it would look. It was to be, basically, red. The lights he had bought were white, the decorations mainly red. I had one set of red lights so they went on too. Then came the ornaments. He had bought special red ribbon to use to hang the ornaments. I did the threading of the ribbon for the ornaments – I’m not so stupid that I thought I could actually hang anything! :-D

There seemed (to me) to be an awful lot of ornaments going on – but in the end it did look beautiful. You can see why he does the job he does. Then there were lights (white again) to be fitted round doorways.

He used some of my (gold) stuff for the hallway – which had to be thoroughly cleaned first.

The flat really does look wonderful and is very festive. I am really looking forward to Christmas. He too as, not only is he pleased with the decorations, he is also planning the Christmas day menu! I tried to take photos of the decorations but have lost the cable to my camera. I will try to find it and post at least a picture of our glorious tree.

Stepping back in time………….

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You’ve seen the films. Usually American, depicting the High School Prom. The dancing, the essential glitter ball, the live band. Particularly from the 50s or 60s.

The strings of lights from the roof. Maybe, if it’s a dedicated ballroom, it has mirrors round every wall. If it does a dinner dance, the tables are arranged, length outwards from the longest two walls, leaving the central part as the dance floor.

You sit at the tables. Maybe you drink some wine. You have the first course and the band starts playing. Between courses, rather than going out for a cigarette, people start dancing. The cha-cha-cha, waltz, tango, etc., etc.

In those days, this WAS the Saturday night out. Couples went to enjoy time with their friends, eat and dance. All for a very reasonable price.

_______________________________________________________________________________

We have the address. An’s birthday was that day. She had been persuaded by her colleague (whose birthday it was last week), known to us as the Lesbico since she is lesbian, to join her birthday party.

An had an address. It was a street I have walked down so many times and yet, I could not remember any restaurant being there. We met up at An’s flat for a glass of prosecco and walked, together, to the place.

‘It’s a bit trashy but it should be super fun’, she told us. ‘The food is super good’, she added.

It was next door to the police station. ‘It can’t be here’, she said when we got to 2A. ‘But this is 2A’, I said remembering that there was a place offering dancing lessons. Yes, it was here alright. We walk down the steps, following the signs for the entrance.

We walk down some underground corridors. Quite wide, lined with that pale, fake-wood boarding. It was very well lit but strange. We turned left and then right and then left again, going through several sets of doors that had been opened.

We arrived at a bar. It had a few people sitting around. There were no windows but still very bright. But the ‘entrance’ was through the bar. I wondered what type of restaurant this could be.

We walked up a few steps.

We were on a fairly narrow balcony. The balcony had a railing over which was a …. ballroom. You could check your coats in for 50 cents. We walked along the balcony and down some stairs. It felt like we were a long way below ground – but that was probably not the case.

The room was a big rectangle. Round three sides were mirrors so the place did not have a claustrophobic atmosphere. What looked like trestle tables (but with table cloths so I couldn’t say they were) to seat 10 people (or 12 if there were people sitting at the heads of the tables) were arranged along the long-side walls, lengthways out from the wall. This still left a huge area in the centre. They had a small table in the centre on which there was a selection of salumi and some parmesan and a couple of buckets holding ice and wine. And plastic cups!

It struck me that this was similar to the Feste delle Unita things I’ve been to in those country places. This was not something I ever expected to find in the centre of Milan. It was like it was a volunteer thing and yet it most certainly wasn’t.

We all sat down at our tables. M (The Lesbico) had done the seating arangements for the five tables we had. All An’s friends were on one table with a couple of M’s friends to fill the table up – but, very kindly, M had arranged that these people spoke English. However, some of them had cancelled. It looked like there were the 5 of us plus another couple meaning there were four empty places. But these were filled later when people turned up to M’s party who weren’t on the list!

The other thing was that M had told all her friends that the women should wear dresses and the men, DJs. An had only found out that morning. M, we learnt, had also sent out special invitations.

There were probably towards 250 people all told. In the end we learnt that there were at least 3 birthday parties being hosted plus, along the one wall, people who really knew the ropes and seemed to come there often (I’ll explain later).

Just after we sat down, the band were introduced and started playing. They were a good band. Not a group to go and see in concert but tight and well-rehearsed.

There were bottles of wine and water on the tables. They started to deliver the antipasto which was a kind of vegetable lasagne. Not bad. Whilst we were eating that, they cleared the table from the centre. Then people started to get up and dance.

The staff were efficient. After the antipasto was risotto. It was OK (me, not being a big fan of risotto) but a lot of people didn’t really like it. Finally the main course, which was a veal casserole with polenta.

As it was An’s birthday, she had bought a strawberry gateau and that was our sweet.

And, for entertainment there was, of course, the dancing. We were struck by how good some of the dancing was. As we discussed, soon this type of thing will die out since most people of my age and younger don’t know how to do this type of dancing. I have tried (and I’m sure I’ve blogged about it) but failed miserably. My feet just don’t seem to be able to function for this type of thing.

F did get up and dance with this rather strange looking woman – short, no neck, a smile as wide as her head, short, black dress and white pearls (or beads, anyway). She knew all the ‘formation’ dancing that went on and was on a table on the opposite side of the wall to us – which I think was ‘the wall for the regulars’. Fabulous! In fact, she only smiled when she danced with F.

We met a couple on our table who were going to get married next year, although they seemed to have a definite disagreement going on about the honeymoon.

Oh, yes, and there was a tombola (that’s the English tombola not the Italian one). In fact, the woman due to get married (who was Irish but has lived here since the late 90s) won the second price – and overnight bag!

The whole thing (without the tombola tickets) cost us €20 each and it was a great night – so much fun.

I think it wasn’t so much ‘trashy’ as ‘old fashioned’ but so weird to find in the heart of Milan. However, if you have a party to organise, it’s a fabulous idea. I would definitely consider it as it is really a hidden gem.

If you wanted to know, it’s called the Sala Venezia and is at Porta Venezia. The link I’ve put is to a blog that gives more details (in Italian).

Fashion, hair and worrying.

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“You don’t care about fashion.”

It was made as a statement. I didn’t try to correct it since, probably, it was a bit lost in translation.

It’s not true that I don’t “CARE”. It would be better to say that I’m not really too bothered about it. It doesn’t rule my life; I don’t have to have the latest things – even if I live in one of the world’s centres of fashion. But I was with people who work in fashion and, I guess, to them it seems that I don’t really care.

R (F’s friend who is up for the weekend) said that he liked my jeans. These are, probably, about 10 years old. I’m struggling to fit into them now, of course, but at least I can still fit in these. I also, last Tuesday night, got a lot of clothes that F was throwing out – to make room in his wardrobes for all the other clothes he has. That’s why R is up – to select a load of clothes for himself.

R also said that he liked my hair. I explained that I was only growing it because I didn’t know what to do with it. He said it looked really good as it was and I should keep growing it. That’s not really “fashion” either, I suppose but it explains why F has been reluctant to advise me on what to do ……… maybe. A colleague at work asked me if it was my real colour. It’s a kind of light, mousey brown. A nothing colour. But, compared to when I had it short and it was totally grey, it is completely different. I was amazed that it has gown with colour. It wasn’t what I had expected at all.

Some people seem to like my hair and they say so. Most people, I think, don’t really like it and so, say nothing. It’s not quite shoulder length but we’re getting there.

To be honest, it feels more ‘me’. Since I was about 11, I always liked long hair. And I wanted mine long. My parents weren’t so keen and it was always a bit of a fight come hair cutting time.

Maybe I am too old for this but, really, who cares. Who knows what will happen tomorrow so I might as well do what I like. And I like it long. And it’s a little bit rebellious and I like that too.

Finally, although I probably shouldn’t tell you this, especially to Gail and Lola, I have a sort of thing with my throat. And, in spite of myself, I am a bit hypochondriac – or I would be if I let myself be. I’ve had it for about three days now. Like it’s a bit swollen but in a particular place, making it a little uncomfortable. Maybe it’s a sort of cold. Of course, I keep thinking it’s cancer or something. It probably isn’t. But it’s a thought that crosses my mind knowing, as I do, that I am on borrowed time now. And, no, I won’t be going to a doctor, not least because I don’t have one and it’s too much hassle to go and get one here. It is, almost certainly, a bit of a sore throat now that the weather has changed. Everyone is having it right now. In a few days it will be gone and then I shall stop thinking about it. So, don’t worry.

But it did make me think for a moment about not being able to eat and, therefore not being able to taste. And that worried me quite a lot. See, I’ve done enough worrying about it for all of you ;-)

Some guys doing an eating tour of Italy in an Ape

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Eating is a bit of a pastime here. And so it seems only right that if you’re going to tour anywhere, with the main purpose of eating stuff, it should be in Italy.

Of course, you could do it in style or ……………….. you could do it in an Ape. This is a teeny 3-wheel, moped-engined ‘vehicle’. Of course, to do a ‘tour’ in an Ape is crazy but, amazingly, it’s being done.

I know this because of the following email. Follow them through their trip (of course, they’re only going up one side of Italy – so missing out on half of Italy’s good food :-) )

Hi,

I came across your page and thought you might be interested in writing about two brothers who are currently on a food road trip through Italy.

They will be constantly documenting their journey, so will be able to supply you with daily info/images/videos.

Please feel free to write about this journey, embed our videos/images and share it with your friends.

Please check out all the information below and contact me if you would like to know anything else.

Thanks,

Jess

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Travel Dates: 09/10/11 – 04/11/11

I’m back

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I’m back!

J has been here for a few days and I really didn’t get the chance to write anything.

And, after 5 days of eating, eating, eating, I am VERY fat. Last night I went to try on stuff that F was getting rid of from his wardrobe. It was distressing that many shirts did not really fit. I HAVE TO get rid of my paunch. It’s not good. And, next summer, I MUST remember not to eat as much.

Anyway, it’s cold now and miserable and, well, like winter. Did I ever mention that I hate winter?

3 days in Piedmont/Lombardia – the things we ate

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When we arrived at ViaVai, there was some cake in the room. Home-made, chocolate cake. Very nice. It was part of the deal as this was via Groupon.

Later that evening there was an aperitivo. There was red wine and two types of tart (all home-made and very, very nice). As usual with these things, people kind of stood around not saying much. Francesca, the owner of the B&B came in and chatted to everyone. Some people had tried to book the fish restaurant in the lower town that Francesca had recommended – but it was fully booked. We knew that already because we, too, had tried to book it.

She tried to use her ‘influence’ to get it for this one couple (as they were leaving in the morning) but ultimately failed.

She had, previously, suggested restaurants to us. We chose the ones we wanted and tried to book that afternoon. As I said, the fish restaurant was fully booked (so we booked it for the next night – Sunday) and, instead booked the Cascina Rosengana, in a little place called Cocconato.. I really like the name ‘Cocconato’ – I don’t know why.

Unfortunately, it was a 20 minute drive from the B&B. Fortunately, the food and service were, as expected, fantastic. All the produce is grown by them or by local farmers and everything is hand-made.

To start, we had some salami. One was normal, cured salami and the other was boiled. I don’t think I have ever had boiled salami before. It was wonderful. Then there was some cheese with some sort of jam, and then, something else (I’m sorry, my memory is fading a bit). Anyway, it was all delicious.

We had chosen red wine (which, although F doesn’t really drink very much, he insisted on) – Barbera. They offered a choice of two – ordinary and superior. F decided we should have superior. It was lovely. He drank his with water in it, which is what he often does, especially with red.

Then we had a choice of primi. One was gnocci and the other was ravioli. We chose one of each to share. First they brought the ravioli. This was very small ravioli, home-made, with meat and simply done in butter and sage. The taste was amazing. The sage was so strong. We finished a dish that, to be honest, seemed a portion for two. The gnocci was next with a ragù sauce. I have to be honest, gnocci is not my favourite thing. This was quite nice and, again, a portion that was, surely, too big for one person. We didn’t finish this.

Next we had a choice of brasata done in Barolo (red wine) and vegetables or chicken. F decided he wouldn’t have anything except vegetables. I had the brasata. It was fabulous. I made F try the gravy as it was really strong – also, unfortunately, full of garlic. The vegetables (carrots and potatoes) would have very easily served 4 people. They had brought extra because F wasn’t having the main course. Needless to say, we didn’t finish the veg (although I did finish all the meat :-) ).

For the sweet they brought us a small portion of each type. There were 4 different sweets. I’m afraid I am unable to remember what they were but they had a chocolate mousey thing that was really lovely.

We had coffee (from a moka).

We bought some stuff in the shop (some of the wine, some bottled beer and I bought some mostardo because I love that). The bill for the meal was between €50-60 which was what we would pay for one person for a similar meal in Milan!

I recommend this place. And the service was wonderful, the girl being really nice and giving exceptional service.

Breakfast at Vaivia was very nice. Do-your-own toast, a cake, jams and real butter. The coffee was like a nespresso thing. The only drawback is that, for me, it was not really enough. Normally I have the equivalent of 2 large cappuccinos in the morning. Still, very nice all the same.

Therefore, we didn’t have lunch, just a couple of small pastries in Turin. Neither of us was hungry.

Later that evening we went to the fish restaurant in the lower part of Caslaborgone.

It was called Circolo del mare. The only thing to tell you it was a restaurant was its symbol on the door. Other than that, it looked like someone’s house.

We walked in. It was two largish rooms, the walls painted in a rag-rolled way, nets and similar fishy type things hanging on the wall. At first it seemed like we were the only people there. We were given a table in the other room – and as we went round we saw that Francesca, her husband and their three daughters were the other customers for the night! F saw that they had Lighea wine on the shelves so, obviously, we had to have that. For antipasto I had anchovies. They were a bit too salty for me but quite nice. I can’t remember what F had – it was seafood salad or something.

Next we had spaghetti con vongole (clams). We had one portion between the two of us which was a good thing as the portion that came fed the two of us very adequately! This was delicious. One of my favourite seafood dishes with pasta.

For the main course, I had rombo (turbot) with capers, olives and tomatoes and F had branzino (sea bass) with, more or less, the same. We shared half and half. It was lovely. For desert, we had chocolate cake and then a digestivo. In all, the meal came to about €50. We also had to join their ‘club’ – but that was for free (I think).

The service was great but they closed up the moment we left (Francesca and her family had left about half way through our meal), which was about 10.30 p.m.

The next day we had the breakfast and then packed and set off for Milan but avoiding the motorway, we ended up in Vigevano for lunch. Although we wouldn’t normally have had lunch, a) it was a lovely day and we could eat outside, b) we could eat in the main square which was truly beautiful and c) if we didn’t eat at lunchtime then we would be starving later – and I had a lesson and stuff.

There were two or three café/restaurant type places in the square but only one of them was really busy. We picked that one, obviously. As it would be mostly locals, it MUST be the right choice.

And it was. We stopped at Il Re di Napoli (the King of Naples and the website I’ve directed to you shows part of the square as well!).

I don’t really like sausages much but, for some reason, I really fancied their Naples Sausages – so that’s what I had. F had seafood salad. The bread (because F asked) was made by them from the same dough that they used for pizza and it was great.

We had some white wine too. The sausages came with what seemed boiled cabbage. But it was really, really nice. We didn’t have sweet but I did have a coffee. The total came to just over €30. We also sat outside under the umbrellas and it was a nice way to spend our anniversary.

And, so, there you are – our feasting over our weekend. All very scrummy.

Milleluci – restaurant or bar?

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“I’ll wait outside”, he says, “It’s very gay”

But he wouldn’t tell me over the FB chat. He waited until we were there.

We were using another Groupon coupon. For a restaurant called Milleluci. On FB chat I translated it as ‘a thousand lights’.

“Yes”, he said, “that’s correct but I’ll have to tell you later why it’s very gay”.

I got there first. It was very gay. There were gay people outside and when we got in, it was very gay.

It’s a bar and a restaurant – bar at the front and restaurant at the rear. It’s open from 6 p.m. until 2 a.m.

The service was great, especially as F did his usual and chatted to the waiter (maybe owner) about the restaurant and how fabulous it all was. Milleluci was some TV programme or something with Mina and some other singer. All very showy and very gay. It’s a restaurant that has memorabilia from that time (80s, I think). It’s red. And black. It has hand-painted red tables with a picture of an Italian diva of that time pasted on top. It has hand-made posters/pictures on the wall – again of the divas of that time. The music is also of that time.

There is a glitter-ball in the centre of the restaurant/bar. I suppose it’s mainly for the bar but WTF?

V and I used to go to this restaurant before, some years ago, before it became a very gay restaurant/bar. When it was run by some North Africans/Turkish people or something. Anyway, then they closed. Since then there have been a few restaurants and bars that have opened in it’s place ….. only to close within a year or so. The last I knew, it was a sushi restaurant – that was always empty.

And, now it’s Milleluci.

It’s a nice, trendy bar/restaurant. The waiter (or owner) was very nice. We had our plate of cold meats and salami to start with a prune/sausage/sage and something ‘thing’ that was lovely. We had a glass of prosecco as well. Then cold meats were nice. It came with a kind of onion marmalade that was also nice.

F chose some wine. It was good. The next course was a choice from their range of pasta, chalked up on a board. F had leek and something (which was really lovely) and I had the taglietelle with ragù (meat). I wish I had had F’s. Unfortunately, mine was not so brilliant and part of the pasta was dry and another part it had stuck together. But the taste was OK.

The main course was a choice of two meat dishes. I chose the costata (basically a chop) which came with potatoes. F, not liking meat, had one of their starters. Burrata I have mentioned before. I wish I had that too rather than my chop. Burrata is a kind of mozzerella. It is like having a soft, light butter but it is really divine. F’s was as good as I have tasted. Unfortunately, although my chop was cooked fine, it was tough. The potatoes would have been better if they had been a bit crispy – but they had a nice taste. The meat was nice tasting – it was a shame it was not such a good piece.

Then I had some chocolate thing, whilst F had their fruits-of-the-forest cheesecake. This was the only time I preferred my choice. Cheesecake, here, in Italy, I find too heavy.

We paid €20 for the wine. I suppose a meal with antipasto, secondo and sweet would have set you back about €25 per head – so, in the end, we would have paid €70-80 with the wine – but, obviously, we had more food than we would normally have.

It’s a nice, friendly place. We would (probably will) go there again but I will be more careful with my selection next time. Also, I won’t eat so much because now I am very fat.

In the end, they asked us to come to their one-year anniversary party, next Monday. Yes, they were very nice people. After all, they were gay and, as F said, “Gay people know how to treat their customers well”. It made me laugh …. inside, of course.

We talked about the Knox verdict and stuff as well. I will give you the results of my “survey” in the next post.