Tag Archives: milan
I’ve missed many a plane, train and automobile in my day for reasons both significant and not. In matters both personal and work-related, I am a professional only at being late, a fact I was grimly reminded of last month when our train from Florence to Milan nearly scooted off into the sunset without us.
Thanks, of course, to me. I bought a pair of Italian-made sneakers on the way to the station. (Yes, I have a picture of them, and no, I’m not going to show you. We just met.) Because of my poor judgment — or because of my impeccable taste in footwear — we literally had to run to make a dinner reservation in Milan with my buddy from Genoa.
This man is approximately two and a half times my age, a father-figure, friend, and mentor in one. He’s also part of the reason that, though I’m not actually Italian, I’m awfully good at faking it.
He and I are a dangerous, demented duo. We sat down and got right to business. No menus — just the chef’s choice on our plates and champagne in our glasses.
The first thing we ate at Al Pont de Ferr was not a chestnut. Continue reading