Monday, November 27, 2006 by Ospite.

The Jackal is moving to the floor. Whose decision it was and how it was made are unknown, but either way, I'm fairly interested to see the result.

The table she was at was getting under way. She was approaching with wine, oil, and bread, as is standard fare for the trattoria. For those of you who don't eat Italian food, extra virgin olive oil/herbs/pepper/sometimes cheese, are poured into a shallow dish for the dipping of bread.

The Jackal was chatting with the table, making small talk as she reached for the bottle to pour into the dish. Reaching right, she retrieved the open wine bottle and proceeded to pour a fine chianti into the oil dish.

As she went for the spices, a shocked look came upon her face. The guests laughed.

"No no, go ahead. We usually like pepper in our chianti."

She desperately grabbed for a fresh dish and tried to play it off as if nothing had happened.


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At your service, Ospite

I am not in the restaurant business, I am in the people business. I use every opportunity to people watch, because to me, even the most mundane is fascinating.

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