the brunch

woke up too late -- a terrible mistake. good old sun was blasting its goodness upon the unsuspected peoples. living furnace. it was obviously too late to make a breakfast but surely opened a whole new opportunitet for brunching out.

i went to this little italian place i know where they know what the food is all about. upon approach of the place it seemed populated by lovely copules and a few italian families. one table however contained only one girl of female pursuasion. thinking that what could be more appropriate for an italian brunch than some company i had parked myself with the permission granted. the girl of the opposite sex was of talian origin spending her time in this largest italian villages of all just for a summer break and working as a secretary in the near-by office.

girly had already ordered hers so i went bravely on with an aperol spritz. while tugging on the straw two bits of italian squeezed out for ordering the meal. what a marvel! if it pre-organic soup where them infusorians got themselves together from them lifeless matters of nature ever existed it was surely an aperol spritz. with a smirk at my comment mamacita went on rattling at how much wine they drink back home... an incoming elderly couple seated at the next table. die oma got herself some holie water and der opa got himself an alc-free beer. upon arrival their pizza di napoli got sliced on one end by der opa armed with a fork and a knife while die oma cut it like they do in radial sectors and ate it with her hands. they wished us a good appetite.

at this point our dishes have arrived. bunch of linguini with some whacky mushroom kisiel came upon her and for me they arranged a full of colours and odors mixed anti-pasti. two mozarella balls and a couple of forks of grilled veggies seemed to ground off abit of her jealousy. perky pink shrimps with fresh scallions; avocadoe salat; tender virgin veal under cream sauce; all topped with an unbeatable duet of prosciutto on cantaloupe. there is no way to miss with a mixed anti-pasti -- every place makes it to the top of satisfaction. unfortunately it was not much to tell about the linguini..

now there was time for the main course. it became as them al dente bambinho calamaris -- tentacles cooked separately to a pleasant chewiness and only very slightely breaded and garliced heads soft as it babies bottom! segniorita started talking about how much they eat of the sea food at home and it was obvious what is necessary. sweet aromatic olive oil went into the flesh just as they were thirsty for it. we shared a few of them cephalopods and it came out as they were almost like they eat them back home. a cool breeze went through blowing some leaves over the table.

it was time to fix it all up with a shot of black poison as a funky duder rolled into the picture -- one looked just as celentano from the 60s and apparetly talked the same. it appeared our table was the only one with an opening and surely one of the noisier ones so he bummed himself over. it was immidiately ordered espresso dopio for each one of us and two grappas for the men. two fellow country-men went on in their mammas tongue and the scene all looked like a black-n-white movie. with the grappa in hand i tosted the celentano duder:

-- you stamp my passport with poison!

and to my immidiate delight and to auter confusion for the girl he shot back with a huge smile:

-- i miss my wheel! narfo!

we joined in the battle cry:

-- mamma! mamma mia!

a bunch of near-by pigeon rats took off with a loud clap of their wings!

my day was made.

all content copyright 2013 michael shalayeff
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