Italy
So. I started talking with this 74 year old man from italy at the bus stop every morning. He has become a good friend of mine. He tells me about real italian food, none of this american frozen food business. He tells me about the floating markets in italy and about that his mother used to make bread every morning. He tells me about the winery, and the smell of crushed grapes. Today, he brought me real bread (he says) none of this processed crap. I have to admit it did taste unbelievable! Like someone really cared when they made it, with their own hands. He says, dont bring me anything in return! you good friend! he yells. good friend with good heart deserves good food! I think I will go to the market in the north end with him one of these weekends.