A taste of Italy

Maybe it's because I have una amica from Italy staying with me for two weeks, or perhaps it's because I've finally put some of the finishing touches on my upcoming trip to Rome and Venice with my nephew, Caleb, but my head and heart (and stomach) have been in my favorite boot-shaped country, lately.

Today, I had lunch at a voce with a former colleague at SELF. Below, the amazing brussel sprouts and foccacia, along with a window-side view of Columbus Circle. Which looks much nicer from above than when you are in it (as is the case with many things).

 

And the other night, I dragged my friend to my favorite neighborhood Italian spot. I know better than to try and suggest that visiting Italians eat pasta, but I did manage to get her to sit at the bar and talk with Maurizio, the charming Sicilian bartender, who proceeded to pour us several glasses of (free!) wine. (What can I say? I'm a good customer.) Around us sat visiting Italians, talking in that mellifluous tongue I love. (But still can't speak.) It was like a little bit of Rome in New York City. What could be better?