la prima colazione

I think I have that translation right (thank you, Google Translate!).  La prima colazione, or breakfast.  Our hotel in Bologna was the only one of the three (well, also leaving aside Rome, which was one night at an airport hotel) that didn't offer breakfast.  And that was fine!  Because each morning we could emerge from the hotel courtyard into the protico and head east.  Before we made it to the next corner, there was Caffè Letterario - Sebastiano Caridi.  Ah, what a delightful convenience and a convenient delight!

We never really got the hang of ordering the coffees we wanted in Italy.  Conrad made the mistake on the first morning in Ischia of asking for a latte, not realizing that he would get only milk.  Shorthand doesn't work!  I always managed to get my decaf, happily.  But we realized that we wanted something with two shots, and sometimes that came with a lot of milk and sometimes not.  At another hotel we came to order it as a macchiato, but even then it wasn't always the same.  By the end, I was asking for cappuccinos, and that was fine.  But the inconsistency from place to place and even at a single place was a little maddening.  It also didn't help that at Caffe Letterario it was never consistent on where and how we ordered - inside, at the counter, with a waiter?  Who knew.  Each morning was an adventure.

What was indisputable was that the caffe knew its food.  Those pastries? 

Conrad eventually started getting one savoury and one sweet, and that was a lot, but also so good.

We were there every morning in Bologna, not even bothering to find another place to try to start our day.  So good.  And, as a bonus, a beautiful church across the street

that we popped into a couple of times to admire.

Breakfast, Italian style, as utterly bastardized by three North Americans - maybe not super traditional but undeniably good!

breakfast in Ischia, Italian style

We'll never fool anyone into thinking that we're Italian at all.  Heck, to hear us bludgeon even the simple "buongiorno" greeting, you'd think that we had something against the country and its language.  Not so, I swear.  We're just tourists.

When Conrad and I visited Italy in 2017, we adopted the practice we observed in Rome of going to a nearby coffee/pastry shop and standing at the counter, enjoying a hot drink and a sweet treat for breakfast.  Where our hotels did not provide breakfast, we enjoyed this habit.  On Ischia, our hotel provided breakfast.  And yet, we were up and walking early enough that one morning we decided to have a pre-breakfast.  We had passed a place a few times on our walks, and it lured us in one day. 

Coffees,

pastries, sitting outside on the sidewalk instead of standing at the bar.  Close enough!

A nice find there were the sfogliatella. 

Italy week on Great British Bake Off first showed me them (oh, the bakers struggled), and then I sampled one at a Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes dinner at a local restaurant (underwhelming, sorry to say).  Here was my chance!  Friends, it did not disappoint even remotely.  That flaky, crisp pastry!  So good.

So yes, Conrad

and Van

and I attempted to fit in.  Ha!  But we weren't unhappy when, during our next leg in Bologna, the hotel did not provide breakfast and we were left to fend for ourselves at a nearby cafe.  But we'll save Bologna for another blog entry!

Friday morning

A short post, a simple post, a lovely morning.  I was out the door before seven to walk a few miles, and oh, the morning sky. 

A hint of bad weather, red sky in the morning, but we have no rain in the forecast for days to come, so maybe it's just a beautiful morning sky.

And then a morning of working from home, decaf in hand!  Friday, underway successfully.

Saturday breakfast

You ever get hankerings?  In the mood for some particular food or beverage?  I get that way, for sure.  Fly to Hawaii, and by gosh, I need some Spam.  That sort of thing.

Saturday morning we did a rare thing in the desert and went out to breakfast someplace other than walking to Koffi or to Starbucks.  Equally as often, it seems, we would just have some brewed coffee (well, decaf for me) and a light bite at home as well.  Saturday, however, Van and I wandered up the 111 to The Atrium for breakfast at The Palms Cafe.

Breakfast is a conundrum for me sometimes.  I have come to love eggs as an adult (I was so-so on them as a child), and I seldom make them at home, so I usually want eggs when I go out.  Something savoury for me, some protein.  But I had a hankering for pancakes, too.  The solution?  Grand Slam it, as it were.

I don't usually eat breakfast in this quantity, but I told myself there would be no lunch.  Eggs over easy, bacon, hashbrowns (which are a miracle of potato cookery), and a side of a big pancake.  Perfect.  Van had his coffee,

I had my decaf,

and we started the last full day at the Rancho Mirage house together just right.

a few things

It's a mellow Friday night. Conrad got home about an hour and a half ago, we've had dinner (salmon), we're sipping wine and dealing with a few things related to finances and our upcoming Hawaiian vacation (YES!!!!). Some music playing. A good weekend ahead, according to our plans.

So let me get caught up.

I shan't worry about where I last left off and try to figure out everything I've done since. Instead, a few highlights:

A visit to TK.

And Michael, who doesn't care to be photographed. And Coney and Buster, my two favourite dogs in the world.

Go ahead, ask me how much dog hair I brought home on my clothes. Those dogs got some love from me! A quick weekend in Baltimore, but for a chance to see my best friend (and really, I can never say enough good things about Todd) and enjoy conversations while strolling around the lake? So worth it. Add in those banana desserts

at the Taste of the Town fundraiser event, and, well, we've got a memorable visit indeed.

Vancouver. An even shorter weekend there, but enough time to get in a good run around Stanley Park followed by breakfast and coffee at Safari Cafe.

Ah, Safari, we have missed you. Never close, Adam, please. Time spent with friends,

birthday cake,

and some new furniture.

Oh, and have I mentioned how freaking gorgeous that city is in the spring sunshine?

A return to Girl and the Goat. Eric was in town,

so we caught up over some small plates and (for me) drinks at the bar. I'm a fan, though I've only been there a few times. The shishito peppers once again were a star.

Breakfast with a library bigwig. Well, he might not think so, but Jeff lit up the library blogosphere last year. It was a real pleasure to sit down with him for a leisurely meal and discuss matters related to our profession and otherwise. And may I say that the man has some fine suits and shoes!

Small plates and cocktails at Erwin.

It's not that far south of Yoshi's, and yet it's mostly off our radar, sad to say. Conrad was out of town, but Michael

happily came along while I used up a Groupon. French fries, properly salty.

Yum!

So that's the world of Peter lately, and much food involved, of course. I will need to do some trimming down for a conference in Anaheim next month, but for now, I am content. And oh so happy to have Conrad home!

favourite coffee shop

One more post before heading to bed, and oddly (given the time of night), it's about coffee.

So much to write about with Vancouver, and each time we go there are some of our reliable favourites and new experiences. New this time? Bao Bei.


Good restaurant, nearby. We'll go back. Familiar to us? Campagnolo on the Friday night.



Shopping at Roots.
Granville Island.




And then there's Safari Cafe.

We go there everyone morning we're in Vancouver. A short stroll over for what we have come to think of as the best coffees in Vancouver.
They remind us of the flat whites we came to love so much on our New Zealand visits. It's not a big place, but there are some seats and free wireless. And regulars. We don't know them really, but the faces are familiar, and occasionally conversation flies across the room. Adam, the owner, takes good care of us. Breakfast items daily for us, though we are careful not to take that for granted.



And anyway, the banana loaves are quite satisfying.

I would find it interesting to know how many hours we've spent at Safari Cafe on past visits. It must add up into days, easily. I think it was 10-12 hours on this trip, though I tend to get there well before Conrad, who likes to sleep in a bit. My/our morning ritual in our second city.

By gosh, are those coffees good.