Dinner at Ostria Pepò.
Having arrived on American time, before the rest of the city was ready for dinner, we got the best table in the house. We sat up in front at a corner table looking out on the street.
I ordered penne. Trudy ordered chicken cacciatore and a glass of wine. We relaxed in our seats, waiting for our meal as evening began to set in and the restaurant began to fill up.
Now this was probably one of the best places we had been to thus far on our trip. A fancy place, highly recommended. And we were ready for something like that. Although my blisters from the previous days had begun to heal, the climb up the cathedral dome had worn us out sufficiently that we were beginning to dread our upcoming hike in the Alps. So this place was just what we needed. We sat back, smiled at each other and just enjoyed being in that place at that moment, comfortable and comforted that our food was about to arrive.
And the food was great, as the reviews will tell you. When the waiter came to the table to ask if we would like dessert, Trudy looked up at him and said, “No. I would like…” and then she discretely pointed to the couple sitting at the table beside us. “I would like what he’s having.”
A true secondi.
The waiter’s eyes widened but he smiled.
“Would you like me to bring two forks?” he asked Trudy, nodding slightly in my direction.
“Oh no thanks. Just one fork.”
And she laughed, comfortable and comforted that her food was (again) about to arrive.
