I Have a Problem

Steve

Spotting this little vegetable shop, I ducked in to grab a healthy snack before heading back to Positano.

Having misplaced my jacket somewhere between here and London, I jumped on an early bus to do a little shopping in a place called Piano di Sorrento.  A small town close to Sorrento but without any notable tourist traffic and the high prices that come with it.  I figured I would canvas the main shopping strip and its side streets to see what I could find, and maybe grab a quick bite before catching the bus back to Positano by mid afternoon.  I covered a lot of ground early on, identified a couple of possibilities, and by 12:30 I'd picked up a jacket (basic black, nothing fancy) and a pair of shoes (semi-fancy).  With my purchases in hand, I stood on the main drag looking for a bus, enjoying the warmth of the sun, happy I had what I came for before the 1pm shut down.  (Shops typically close from 1:00 to 4:00 for lunch.  I'll be starting a petition drive to get this same schedule implemented across the US when I return.)  Standing there, waiting for the bus, I realized I was kinda hungry.  Twenty minutes later, with no bus in sight, I decided to walk down the boulevard to see if I could pick up a little snack before the hour long ride home.  

Now I've had my share of Italian meals with lots of pasta, and I figured today would be the perfect opportunity to eat light for a change.  You know, maybe an apple or a half a panini.  Within two minutes I stumbled onto this vegetable stand, so I ducked in to see what they had.  It turned out to be a bit more than just a veggie stand, with a deli, wine bar, and a few tables in the back.  After considering the boxes of fresh apples, tangerines, and plums, I ended up with the lunch pictured below.

What's wrong with me?  How come I can't seem to say "No" whenever I encounter a big plate of pasta?  Do they have something like the Betty Ford Clinic for people like me?  I'm guessing they probably do, but I won't be able to sign up until I get back to the US and by then the damage will have already been done.  (Sigh.)  One would think that after the better part of three months we would be over the food.  I mean really, we have had almost nothing but pasta and pizza since we arrived and you'd think at some point that stuff would not seem all that appealing.  Yet here I was with a huge plate of lasagna, a glass of red wine and basket of bread, and a big smile on my face.  

In any case, I have no regrets for having stopping in for "an apple".  Probably the best lasagna I've ever had, and the place itself was full of Italian charm.  In front of me was a wall full of wine bottles (although mine was poured from a tap.  Yeah, wine from a tap!) and behind me was a wall of dried pasta for purchase.  Tomatoes, sausages, and various dried meets hung from a ceiling so low that any patrons taller than myself (i.e. all the other patrons) had to duck to avoid getting tangled up in all the ceiling riff-raff.  There were two guys running the place, one short and squat with close cropped hair and the other a big tall guy who clearly had run into his share of sausages.  They both moved around the tiny serving area with plates of food, boxes of produce and a bit of good natured humor that even a foreigner like myself could pick up.  All in all, a great stop to wrap up a good day.  With any luck I'll make it back for an apple or two before we head home. 

Patrons dodge ceiling deco while placing their order.

One member of the Laurel and Hardy team dropping off a plate of meatballs to the gents next to me.

If you're in a rush, they have wine to go!