Replete, we both opined that the gelato in Calimera is much tastier than the one we had in the big city of
It'll be pizza at Berlino’s tonight or maybe I'll have the tripe, a la casareccia (home style), again, that is, if the cook decided to make it today. I know, tripe sounds gross but it's really soooooooo good.
Berlino's is casual, and I mean casual. The owner is a guy named Rosario, whom I've never met. His brother, Gino, is the one that seems to run the place (He's married to Adelina, who has a fruit and vegetable store on via Roma), and Alessia, his daughter, is the waitress.
Apart from thinking about and eating food, I spent the early part of the day reading some of those 100-word narratives that are part of the New Page project (see previous post). Quite beautiful. I'm working on a submission myself, and that may be the culmination of my work in
The artists that come to MIRA have an exhibit at the end of their stay. Barbara and Shay are painters;
But I have nothing so tangible to present so Paola decided to organize a series of performances on opening night. She's invited poet Elio Coriano to give us one of his bracing, thought-provoking readings, and his wife, Stella Grande and her group, to sing from their roster of folkloric songs.
Will I have the nerve to stand up and read my meagre little 100-word New Page narrative, which may end up on a poster and displayed in some Apuglian store window like the New Page works?
Hell, yes. About 80 per cent of the people likely to attend won't understand English. I couldn't put a foot wrong if I tried.
Berlino's did have tripe tonight, and I enjoyed every mouthfull.
Barbara's ultra-thin crust pizza had bresaola (salt-cured beef), rucola and grano. She tried her very best but couldn't finish it.
The view just as you enter Berlino's