Taste Your Feet

blaa!

I’ve got wellness on my mind.

“Canducci Tiziana.”  That’s how they call my wife when it’s her turn. Last name first. We’re at the Repubblica di San Marino Instituto di Sicurezza Sociale (aka the hospital), where she’s here to see an orthopedic doc.  A few weeks ago at the Bargello museum in Florence, while I was in the gallery at the top of the stairs, the one with Donatello’s David and Giambologna‘s Mercury, two fleet-footed guys, looking with new-found interest at theirs and other sculpted feet, while she was climbing the stairs to join me, something happened and she tumbled down six or eight steps, injuring a few of her appendages.  To wit: a knee and a wrist.

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I Malardot

the room

I Malardot–local dialect for malridotto–those who are in bad shape

The drive, the ambiance, the food–all well worth it at I Malardot.  Start with the food. We’ve eaten at I Malardot 4-5 times now.  With confidence, you can begin with a tagliere, mixed sliced meats and cheeses. For primo piatto our current favorite is artichoke ravioli with fosse cheese.  That might well qualify as a desert island food for me.  I could never tire of eating it.

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