Some of the things we ate: Roma

I had thought that I would write about each restaurant we experienced in Italy with individual posts. A pursuit, which would be a bit aggressive. Here's my collective feeling:

The fruit is above and beyond anything I've ever experienced (and I lived in California, the land of roadside farm stands!). I'm still fantasizing about noshing on tomatoes and sliced cantaloupe.

Buffalo mozzarella: creamy and moist, when you push your fork into it, the milk explodes onto your plate.

I couldn't get enough mussels some days. I'd have them for two meals a day. Fresh, garlicy and with toasty bruschetta to dip in the sauce--amazing.

I've found my new summer beverage: Spritz. The cocktail is a vibrant mix of prosecco and Aperol over ice and garnished with citrus fruit. After getting home to Manhattan, I picked up my Pug from my girlfriend and marched him to La Petit Cave, to stock up my fridge with the essentials to make my new favorite cocktail!

My contention is that the attention to detail and love of the labor in the food brings the quality of the ingredients and the dishes to a higher caliber. Beyond the family-owned cafes we visited, where the entire crowd of father, mother, sons and daughter would close up to eat together as we finished our wine- it was clear that the business of dining is taken seriously, right down to the bread basket and espresso punctuating the meal. Our waiter at Penna La D'Oca brought us a card with the address of his family villa scribbled across it, "the best beach, I am almost finished renovating it." There is something deeply humbling in the connection between food and the people who gingerly prepare your dishes. It's refreshing to see someone slowly plop three ice cubes into your cocktail, or to focus deeply on crafting your espresso.