Don't you love it when the New York Times imitates life? When I saw today's article about sipping on a sunset and thinking about Italy, I couldn't decide if I should laugh or cry. I came back from Sardegna to Rome just in time for the latest heat wave. They've begun naming heat waves here the same way hurricanes are named in the States. Well, sort of the same way: it's not alphabetical and they are named after classical characters, both mythological and historical. The first one I heard about was Charon, then there were Minos, Ulysses, Scipio. Now it seems to be Nero. Insert Rome Burning Joke here. Except there really are fires in Rome, which isn't funny.
But here you see a lovely couple enjoying the sunset over Santa Teresa di Gallura in Sardegna. And here I will confess that I prefer Campari over Aperol, hands down. No, wait, hand holding cold glass beading with condensation--
I wonder if my fondness for Campari is an adverse reaction to this ad:
I'm pretty sure a tourist could get killed for using that hand gesture in some countries. Is it a sign of my impending old-age grumpiness that I hate this ad so much, by the way?
One thing I have noticed with the impending old-age grumpiness, though, is that I much prefer bitter things to sweet. Thus, I'm going to take issue with this article's take on Cynar. Yum, I love the artichoke stuff. In fact, I love artichokes so much I wrote a poem about one. [And if you don't yet have a copy of Cavalieri's & Pascarelli's The Poet's Cookbook, hie thee thither and think about holiday gifts.]
But seriously. Cynar is a great digestivo, bitter and crisp and if you haven't tried it, you should. In fact, I'd better scoot -- we're going out for dinner tonight and I'm going to see if the restaurant has some Cynar.
Tanti carciofi a voi!
