I just got home from an evening at Zampa, a new wine bar on 13th Street and 8th that my friends Danny Emerman and Sandro Prosperi have opened. To quote Maggie Smith in Gosford Park, “Yummy!” I wish I lived close enough to have lunch there every day and go back for wine and octopus every evening. Zampa means hoof in Italian. I thought there would be pigs trotters for dinner. But there was tuna and there were white beans and there were beets. Not a cloven hoof in sight.
ZAMPA
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“Not a cloven hoof in sight.”
Not even on any of the patrons? Hmph.
I laughed when I read Nancy’s comment because that’s exactly what I thought as I read about the restaurant. Then I thought Nancy might be Nancy C. and suddenly it is 1968 and you and Nancy are making me laugh while I do my best to appear to be your English teacher. It is lovely to start the day with a memory that makes me smile.
Hello! Of course that’s Nancy! She’s the only one who reads this! How are you?
Oh my. Vicki’s comment gave my memory a little revisionistic jolt and suddenly it seemed as if maybe high school wasn’t so bad. I laughed more in that class than just about any other time of my life, except for a few other times wth cathleenschine.com ™. It is an absolutely new idea that Miss T(aka:Vicki) would smile at that memory. I’m so surprised and glad to know this.