1. Tortilla soup with a sprinkle of shredded jack, a dab of sour cream, and a liberal dose of hilarity. Oh, and a blueberry tart that added the B to B-Utter.
2. A french dip nearly as good as the ones we used to eat in Pasadena, but (thankfully) smaller, and with a leafy little pile of lemon-vinaigrette-slicked leaves alongside.
3. Polenta, formed into a square, barely seared, floating atop a disk of pomodoro sauce, then topped with sauteed wild mushrooms.
Um. Yeah. Some of these were in private homes, some in casual cafes, some in a tiny, charming restaurant tucked behind a bookstore that has a section titled "Speculative Fiction."
Back tomorrow, with photos. I can't wait to: squeeze my boy(s), pet my dogs, and drink a cup of tea.
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