Anyway, across the street from this entrance is a cute restaurant Villa Squisito. We plan to return for dinner.And we do. What an experience.
There are three or four roadside tables but we elect to eat inside, which is not inside, but not on the street. Our waiter is a petite, well not petite but short, italian version of Harvey Fierstein at his effeminate best. He tries to get us to order the whole fish for two. The couple from the UK opposite us do and we elect to order some Rukla and Breasole, which is aged beef carpaccio. I wanted some wine as well and even though I was prepared and kept hedging toward the Brunello, he kept telling me I wanted the Chianti intermeddio. I gave in remembering what Stefano told me. There are no bad wines in Italy.
It was very good and as we were enjoying our appetizers, the women at the table began to ask our waiter, who had put on the best of Abba as background music, if he sang. Of course he sings, he replied, I am Italian. He proceeds to warm up like an Opera sing as performed by Mel Blanc. He was hilarious. Then all of a sudden, out comes this terrific opera tenor voice. I have no idea what he was singing, but it was beautiful. We all clapped when he concluded and he scampered off gaily.
Joan had fillet with green peppercorn sauce and I had linguini with cherry tomatoes and lobster. Joan's fillet was sized for a king and my linguine came with half a lobster. Both were delicious. Neither of us could finish our dinners. To be scolded in Italian by a small Harvey Fierstein is an experience I won't soon forget.
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