Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 32

           Butit’snotjustthemeatthat’swonderfulinLucca;it’sthechestnuts,thepeaches,thetumblingdisplaysoffigs,dearGod,thefigs…

           Thetownisfamous,too,ofcourse,forhavingbeenthebirthplaceofPuccini.IknowIshouldprobablybeinterestedinthis,butI’mmuchmoreinterestedinthesecretalocalgrocerhassharedwithme-thatthebestmushroomsintownareservedinarestaurantacrossfromPuccini’sbirth-place.SoIwanderthroughLucca,askingdirectionsinItalian,"CanyoutellmewhereisthehouseofPuccini?"andakindcivilianfinallyleadsmerighttoit,andthenisprobablyverysurprisedwhenIsay"Grazie,"thenturnonmyheelandmarchintheexactoppositedirectionofthemuseum’sentrance,enteringarestaurantacrossthestreetandwaitingouttherainovermyservingofrisottoaifunghi.

           Idon’trecallnowifitwasbeforeorafterLuccathatIwenttoBologna-acitysobeautifulthatIcouldn’tstopsinging,thewholetimeIwasthere:"MyBolognahasafirstname!It’sP-R-E-T-T-Y."TraditionallyBologna-withitslovelybrickarchitectureandfamouswealth-hasbeencalled"TheRed,TheFatandTheBeautiful."(And,yes,thatwasanalternatetitleforthisbook.)ThefoodisdefinitelybetterherethaninRome,ormaybetheyjustusemorebutter.EventhegelatoinBolognaisbetter(andIfeelsomewhatdisloyalsayingthat,butit’strue).Themushroomsherearelikebigthicksexytongues,andtheprosciuttodrapesoverpizzaslikeafinelaceveildrapingoverafancylady’shat.

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