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Flying over the world
at very low altitudes, we become aware of some pleasant cooking odors. After
a rough landing (not the fault of the pilot, but of the hippopotamus-like builds
of the passengers), here we are, seated at the table, with the appetite of the
ship-wrecked and the thirst of the Foreign Legion lost in the desert. We don't
visit museum...
continue
… , we don't speak foreign languages (we order, pointing our finger at
our choices on the menu, this and this and two of this. What’s this?
Yes, and that too).
My Aunt Ines was convinced to leave Venice only once, and that was to take
advantage of the offer of a free trip to Paris. Anxiously, we awaited her
return, amused and curious as to what had been of interest in a great city
like Paris to someone who had never left her native lagoon.
Finally, Aunt Ines entered, perspiring and puffing (she was very fat). A brief
silence, and then, all together: "Well, Auntie, how was your trip?"
After an eloquent look around, she announced, "Paris, what wines!"
Today, it is with the same attitude that we search the world reporting to
you on the good things we discover, perhaps after having written “Eat,
Eat, Eat” in chalk on the doors, in a wish to sing its praises.
