They Tried To Throw Me Out Of My Own Restaurant Until The Chef Stepped In

later on a Tuesday night after the last table cleared, Marco opened a bottle of red that cost eleven dollars and poured it into the same glasses we used for the eighty-dollar Barolos, and I made pasta. Not the kind that goes on a menu. Not the kind with a French name and a sauce that takes four hours. Just garlic and olive oil and chili flake and a continue reading …