A good friend of mine invited me to a dinner last night which proved to be perfectly interesting. While it was supposed to be a number of other people, it ended up being just my friend, myself, & his two business associates; this ended up being a blessing in disguise, because I don't know that I could have followed the conversation had it been any more -- it was entirely in Italian. I was glad to be able to follow along, though I'd hardly say I added a terrible amount to the subjects conversed. We ate at Osteria dell'Olio, a neauveau Italian place near the Duomo, their website begins to give you a taste of the ambiance they provide (we were seated in the red booth in their picture below).
As I mentioned, throughout the dinner Italian - vibrant Italian - was spoken rapidly: I focused intently in order to keep current on the conversation. The conversation spanned from business, politics, Amanda Knox (aka: lack of justice), Biometrics, & a mild amount of gossip. At one point, they were speaking of a person who shall remain unnamed, & they used the phrase "non ha le pelle" which means "he doesn't have the skin". I really enjoy picking up colloquial phrases as such, they relate to ours, yet are a touch different. Similar to the Tuscan way to say "good-luck" "In bocca al lupe" or, "in the mouth of the wolf".
I'm sure I don't have to say it, but the food was delicious, after several glasses of wine & a little bread, our first course came - an eggplant dish which encased a mozzarella center & was placed upon a tomato reduction. Next an enormous platter of Bistecca Fiorentina was brought out for the table - I can't even describe how perfectly rare this tender cut of meat was, I can only suggest you find your way to Florence to personally try it!
Italian men are very attentive & appreciative of pretty women, that type of flattery is hardly wasted on me. My wine glass was dutifully filled whenever it began to get too low, & I certainly couldn't complain at that, it was a lovely & boldly tannic Tuscan Rosso. Although I added only infrequent & broken sentences, I received only kind smiles for my efforts. Over cafe they all lit cigarettes & relaxed their stance. The image of wasps of smoke drifting over & around empty wine glasses, kerchiefs, a typical Tuscan hat & their own sharp attire & demeanor was quite intoxicating....even romantic or enchanting in a very Casablanca way. Regardless, I doubt it will be an image I'll be able to keep far from my mind for some time.
What I took from this evening primarily, is that as with this fresco below which I found upon a wall of the old Midici palace, sometimes it's the cracks which give an object its character, the wrinkles & ingrained habits from the centuries which impart such a compelling taste upon our palate. As I said, it was a mentally intoxicating evening.
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