I like to go to restaurants, knowing the dish I want, walk in, and say "i came here for _______" and then i get ________. So last night, I was trolling Marin for MUSSELS. mmmmmmmmmmm. What a dream to have a french place in Marin that serves all you can eat Moulles Y Frites, RIGHT?? not happening. So anyway, in I walked to Ginolina. Immediately the owner grabs my hand, and gives it a kiss. I tell him I want MUSSELS and i told him I wanted to sit in the corner and he was SHOCKED that i was by myself. i of course, was not shocked, and was actually a little TICKLED to be so.
1 ferrari fume glass & 28 mussels later, i had licked the platter clean (using the table bread).
elation. skipping. spinning.
light years away from electronics.
it made me think about my summer in italy.
wine oozing out of my pores
friends free. walking cobblestone. love.
basics - tomatoes! lemons! olive oil.
fruitti di regazzi.
oh - back to sitting there, on a wednesday night in san rafael.
i was offered cafe, and espresso, tiramisu, blah blah.
i waltzed back to my miata.
what does miata mean? for a japanese company, it sure does sound italian!
miata - Make. It. A. Topless. Afternoon.
once i got into my car, all i wanted to do was BELT dean martin.
i recently watched the movie MOSTLY MARTHA - it was delightful. there is a scene where the man in the kitchen says of dean martin's voice "he really puts feeling into it" or something like that. i totally agreed with the comment, and thought i'd round out that whole sequence by having my own special dean-o moment.
so the end of my story is me, dean-o, the miata, and a belly full of mussels rolling home so happy and skippy, feeling life is back in order.
1 comment:
will you be my alter ego? do you want me to make you a cape? ;)
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