Walking home today from kid dropoff, on Via Giusti, I saw a gaggle of chefs congregating. Is it a chef’s strike? Are they prepping? They sure seem to be smoking a lot. It’s not even 10 am. I look at the enoteca across the. Surely they’re not all employees there?…
Laughing, a shout of “Io ti lo giuro!”
Some toques. Many coats, some with embroidered names. Who are these people?
I looked at the sign: it’s the Florence Cordon Bleu. Around the corner from our house.
I laughed the whole way home.
This town! this crazy town!
