Non ho la parola
I'm doing it! I'm blogging! I guess it's like riding a bike....although it did take about a dozen tries to get the right username/password combination.While faced with the monumental task of blogging again after such a long, long silence, I find myself faced with another challenge: processing pictures from a week in bell'Italia...made only more bell' since Jackie came all the way up to Torino to visit! Of course, we talked about better intentions with the blog and found lots of fodder for posts including being on the Italian show Bistro TV, finding Jelly Bellies, and checking out the foggy view from La Superga.
While aiming for two birds with one stone, hopefully this is the first of several posts with pics from our week in Piemonte.
Jackie, Bowden, and I were on the hunt for a quick coffee when we stumbled into this Torinese Enoteca. No espresso machine between the bottles there at Parola so we left that day but Bowden and I got to go back a couple times later in the week.
We always arrived between two sets of regulars. The petite, curly-haired barista spoke like a mouse and splashed the first juice of each new bottle into the sink before she poured a glass. The quiet, Cyrano-look alike that we named the "resident artist" never asked for his glass to be refilled though it always was. After we'd sipped half a glass, the next group swung the glass door. Three glasses of prosecco was their tradition: one for the sturdy gent who laughed loudly and was convinced that we were German and one each for the two quieter ladies who laughed at his jokes and whispered about the cold that he didn't seem to feel. Everyone seemed to know each other and noticed but didn't mind that we strangers were there.
Here's the view from inside Parola.
