My in-laws were over from The Tundra this weekend, on their way back from an Italian Odyssey. Wonderful people. The bididdly boings of Canada; the walking yin & yang of couples. Mothernissimo glides with Buddha-like serenity, touching even the most contemptuous of London Underground pickpocket-types in blissful acceptance of all. Meanwhile, The Good Doctor defies medical science and he should know. He is a doctor. At 70, the man can out-party a bunch of frat boys on a Cabo Spring break and still have the energy for a flaming sambuca first thing in the morning. This is not a euphamism. I have seen the phenomenon with mine own sleep encrusted eyes. He considers beer one of his '5-a-day'; Guinness not rice should be distributed by The Red Cross and he does not abide by anything that requires more effort than a phonecall.
The Lish was in Grandies Heaven. In fact last I saw her, she was knee deep in presents and love. I should go fish her out before school starts in September. Sadly, they did have to leave yesterday and the place feels dry without them. I warmly recalled conversations with Mothernissimo about her experience in Italy this morning, sipping my coffee, feeling very sad for a second. She described a trip to an italian country kitchen with such enthusiasm, I didn't have the heart to tell her that the brown vinegar she loved so much was not basmati ....
- Oh, and you should have tasted the basmati vinegar with 'erbs (silent 'H')
Yes, I imagine it's delicious with bread and extra virgin orange oil....
