Just got back from a little Italian place in Greenwich/SoHo that serves the best panini sandwiches. The waitress, who we lovingly call "Carmelita" (no, it's not an Italian name) is so beautiful and so indifferent that you can't help but fall in love with her. Apparently there was a HUGE soccer game on TV between two teams I'd never heard of.
I felt like we (Amy, Carl, a mechanical engineer named Donald, and I) were the only English-speaking people in the place. Folks, the crowd was fired up. It was a good game with lots of flagrent fouls. When Milan scored a goal most of the cafe remained quiet in their disdain, while a smaller group of patrons went crazy. The Milan goal happened right before the first half ended, and Juventes was not pleased.
After the first half finished we left and went to a small Italian bakery in SoHo and bought some of the same foccacia bread that they use to make the sandwiches at L' Angolo. They also have authentic Italian pizza, the kind with not a lot of cheese, and has the black charcoal marks on the bottom.
No comments:
Post a Comment