Missing Rome: the young man in the kitchen

Okay, I will admit that older ladies generally are quicker to like me.  Maybe I live up to an outdated standard that resonates with them more… I just don’t know why, but that has been my experience so far in life.

So, in Rome, there was a great little Italian lady who ran the bed & breakfast.  I was the early riser of the group, greeting her in my spanish-accented Italian attempts.  She laughed at my feeble attmempts of using Spanish to communicate (which I was told could work, but seemed to only cause confusion and her grabbing another cigarette if she was not in a laughing mood). She taught me how to use a percolator to make coffee, and how I miss the taste of that fresh of coffee… and that concentrated!  Wow, that stuff got me on my toes right away.

So, more memories from the kitchen!  How could I go this week without a post about food or kitchens?!

AND, oh my fates, I had my iTunes on shuffle and what pops up… “Hey, mambo, Italiano!”  No freakish way…

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