A True Confession

Last week once we checked into our hotel in Florence at 2 pm ... right on the dot .... we headed out for a late lunch. Not a problem in late lunching culture, or so I thought. As we stepped in the door to the local trattoria, the cook joked with us about why we had come to his restaurant. Perhaps it was to dance he suggested. I gave him a big smile and laughed. Surely we weren't a bother. Surely??? Oh no -- we were his amusement! This chef gave us the royal treatment! After we had ordered and eaten our primi (first) course, he came out to inquire as to what we wanted for our second course. He really didn't speak English. I have neither the ability to speak Italian or accurately read Italian. He communicated through lots of hand motions that he wanted to bring a sample of something to our table for us to try. That sounded great to me. He brought the plate out ... I had no clue what it was ... and truly unlike the expat in me, I wholeheartedly sampled this cuisine the chef was so very proud of. The dish was small slivers of something in a white wine/garlic sauce. Harmless right? So I took a bite. Swallowed. Meanwhile, Matt is inquring as to what the mystery dish actually was. The chef says the following: "the cow pee." The cow pee??? Fabulous. I then had to reckon with the fact that I had just heartily sampled cow bladder.