Category Archives: Uncategorized

Tourist food in Anacapri and Capri–four short reviews


It’s going to be much better than all right

1. Le Grotelle (Capri)

It is now, and probably always will be, a mystery to me that close to a major tourist attraction in Italy one can eat so well. Granted, that is not always the case.  (A hellhole in Cinque Terre comes to mind.) But here at Le Grottelle, the last restaurant on the road to the Arco Naturalle in Capri, we ate as well we have ever eaten in Italy.   Continue reading

Once More to the Pork


Put away your worries and reservations about fat.

A few years ago I stayed a week at a bed and breakfast above Villa Verucchio, an agriturismo called Duslaun. Every other night Sebastiano served a rabbit roast that was to die for. He roasted it, refrigerated it, then sliced it the next day and reheated it to serve. “People always want a nice clean cut,” he said. “It’s easiest to do when the roast it cold.”

I thought of this sometime after that, on a night I was savaging a pork roast I had just taken it out of the oven. Continue reading

How to Satisfy Your Green Tooth


Glorious green!

We had our neighbor here in Michigan to dinner one day. He was educated in Rome and traveled extensively in Italy during his time there. That day we ate a dish of pasta, enjoyed some wine, and talked. After clearing the table for the next course, I placed a pan of spinach in the middle of the table.

He laughed. “I bet this is the only house in Southeastern Michigan serving spinach from a frying pan.” Continue reading

Whole Lotta Love

She comes downstairs with her amazing hair. The curls just do not end. I have noticed that women with straight hair want their hair to be curly, women with curly hair want their hair to be straight. There’s not much middle ground.

Great hair, I say.

She pulls at it some with her left hand, says, Yeah, well.

You’re not going to straighten it, are you?

Just in the front.

You’ve got this Led Zeppelin thing going.


Do you like Led Zeppelin?

I don’t know any of his songs.

No, I guess you don’t.

Flies, of course


We’re on the shore of Lake Michigan for a few days, late summer, and it’s been hot. These guys, called alternatively biting house flies, stable flies, dog flies, power mower flies, affectionately known in fly lit as stomoxys calcitrans, busy themselves around your ankles, heels, toes, knees, shins, calves, thighs, sucking blood anywhere on your exposed lower extremities. An entomologist at Michigan State blames Wisconsin, suggesting the flies cross the lake from dairy farms over there. It’s a long trip. They get hungry. They like rotting organic matter and animal waste. To them, evidently, I’m as good as a pile of crap.