I stopped getting my hopes up for decent Italian food in America when I got back from Italy and realized it wasn't the same.
But last night, I stopped at a place north of me that had the balls to bill itself as a trattoria, an Italian ristorante. My hopes were not high until I saw the menu.
I had the best bruschetta I've had since Florence. Oh, man was it delicious. Thin rectangles of toasted focaccia topped with mascarpone, a slice of tomato, roasted red peppers and basil, drizzled with olive oil and a tiny bit of red wine vinegar and a little cracked black pepper. Holy cow, it was delicious. Perfect.
I also tried a saltimbocca, which I didn't love, but that wasn't their fault. I haven't ever really been a fan. I should have had eggplant parm. Next time.
Yay to Benny Rappa for restoring my faith!
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3 comments:
But was the bruschetta as good as the bruschetta you make?
nothing is as good as teh brushetta she makes.
Awww. But this was better. Like, this is my new recipe better.
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