Campagnolo

Yes, yes, we got an upgrade, and thus we "enjoyed" breakfast on the plane.

(not so secret confession: I'm fond of a lot of airplane food and have long had an especial affinity for eggy breakfasts)

(United, this was not one of your better efforts)

It was just after 1:00 when we got to the apartment, and Marie hadn't had lunch, so we wandered down the block to a favourite place, Campagnolo.

(oooo, another aside: fireworks out there - great view, too!)

Brunch it was: all three of us each had the pancetta, spinach, and goat cheese fritatta. Not at all stodgy, very light. A half litre of an Italian white to wash it down, and we were good to get out and start walking.

Poor Conrad. A cold has him down, jetlag hasn't helped. We considered a few familiar options for dinner, but in the end we went back down the block. Twice in one day, but I doubt they mind. The front of the house was busy, but we wanted to park at the bar in the back,
and found ourselves for a few minutes the only ones there.

My pork shoulder was fine (also fine but not photogenic, apparently, were Conrad's flank steak and the olives and hazelnuts we shared), but the winner was the albacore tuna crudo for a starter. Wow. The sushi we had a couple of nights back in Chicago wishes it were such good quality fish.

A half litre of an Italian red kept the food company, and Conrad, worn down, finished and headed back to the condo to climb into bed.