There's a hill covered with olive trees that nestles around our house like the strong, safe lap of an infinitely patient grandfather.... The tiny stone house sits tucked into the side of the hill so that tour bedroom window isn't exposed to the early rays of the sun, but that morning I was up with the first soft light in the sky. I had slept the sleep of the sated. Perhaps the three glasses of grappa at the end of dinner had helped a bit with that. Along with the bottomless pitcher of the local red wine that went down so easily with the wood-grilled lamp and the fried potatoes. God, those potatoes. Maybe it was all a dream; I never eat potatoes after a big bowl of pasta. Not in the same meal. Not in real life...
Living in a Foreign Language
It seems we never had time to get things done because our days were filled to the brim with lingering. Breakfast became a longer and longer linger.
Great quote! This book is about food and meals and great wine, i.e. Italy, and specifically Umbria. The Tucker-Eikenberry contingent has found a way to live life to the fullest, to reap the benefits of their early labors. An inspiration.