The Battle of Pietramelara (cont 2)
Our suspicions should have been aroused by the fact that we could not find a single open restaurant or bar at 5 p.m. on a
Saturday. "Not to worry," said our hosts, "We know a great place about a half an hour up the mountain."
We had plenty of time, so "why not?" The drive was spectacular, up tightly curving roads passing through a thick
forests with beautiful vistas appearing again and again. When we arrived, however, the restaurant showed no signs of
life. We managed to rouse someone, but the answer was "chiuso." Finito. So, back down the mountain.
By this time we were pretty hungry. We reached a sort middle town halfway down, and inquired where we might eat.
Niente. Finally, as we were standing in a small piazza puzzling over our situation, a nice woman inquired what we
were looking for. "Food!" "I have a grocery store across the street. I can make you some sandwiches."
Whew! She made us some
delicious prosciutto sandwiches, and we picked up bottles of soda. While we were waiting, a wizened elderly woman
in black (straight out of Central Casting) overheard us relating our story of going up the mountain.
"They eat cats up there," she snarled. "They stuff a dead cat between two pieces of bread and say, 'Ecco il suo
panino'!"
Armed with that piece of information we hied ourselves off to the local park, a tranquil little place, and sat down on
the edge of a fountain to eat in peace. Ah, relaxation! More >>
