Milano: more than a cookie

I woke to his key in the door, promptly at 7pm. We had loose plans to go for an aperitivo and meet up with a friend for dinner afterwards. Going for an aperitivo is akin to Happy Hour in the states - discounted drinks and free food. Lots of free food, apparently, which momentarily blinded me to the fact that we had dinner plans - big mistake. Bjorn had 2 Camparis, while I downed 2 Pimm's #1s - done in this case not with the British spear of cucumber, but in sangria-style with lots of fresh fruit. We snacked on ham-croissant sandwiches, tomatoes and mozzarella, and canteloupe that gave way in the mouth as nature intended. The eating and drinking and talking and all of deez tings filled up the time until we met Simone for our 10:30 dinner reservation. I somehow swallowed back my fear that I would fall asleep every next moment.

If I were staying in Milan, Simone would have to be my new best friend. I liked her immediately, with all of her warmth and frankness and friendliness. She was open and easy in conversation and laughed often, leading the rest of us. I found that laughs always translate, even when words do not. We were eating in a very busy Roman-style restaurant, where we shared a long table with two other deuces. It made for a very merry evening, with several shared conversations, some of which I could even follow. As the food that Simone had ordered rolled in, I stopped looking up at the blackboard menu to figure out the names of the dishes; eating and drinking took all of my focus. 3 courses, 3 dishes per course, shared amongst the three of us. Wine was poured, and again and again, plates were passed, and the lights glowed a most appropriate golden hue. Was I drunk again, or just happy? I wanted to make love to everyone at the table.

Finally, all the food was gone, and digestivo options were offered. I recognized "limoncello" from the list rattled off by our amiable server, and though that a drop of that tart lemon treat would be just the thing to end this day (and digest dinner, whoa). A TUMBLER of it arrived. I hate to waste...