To Die For Part I

I'm sure there's nothing left to say about Italy's food that hasn't already been said by more talented writers than me. But, one of the magnificent things about Italy in general is everyone who goes feels like they're the first. 

The food, so far, is deserving of its own post. When I die, I'm certain I'll have never eaten finer food.

Last night we had Tuscan style food. We didn't know it was Tuscan style but the waiter told us. No idea what that really means except they don't have seafood and the wine is sublime. And cheap. We got this whole bottle for less than one glass in the US. 

We started with figs and prosciutto for an appetizer. They brought the figs, whole, on one plate and the prosciutto on another. No frills, no fancy prep, just the food. Fresh, simple, glorious.

I wanted pasta. I hadn't had it yet and, well, it's Italy. It's a law.

I ordered the Carbonara. I make it at home but wanted to taste the real thing.

Needless to say, I probably won't make it anymore.

Hard to believe pasta, butter, prosciutto and eggs could taste so heavenly, but it did.

Hubby had the Pasta Castalinga - named after the restaurant. Castalinga means housewife. So, they've got it going on in Italy, those housewives. This pasta had tomatoes, chili flakes and basil. Sweet, spicy, light, perfect.

I knew it was time to go when hubby started to recommend this fantastic pasta to the other ugly Americans sitting at the next table...the Pasta Cunnilingus.

Dessert. Even though we'd stuffed ourselves and drank a whole bottle of wine...well...dessert was still a no brainer. 

Especially almond biscotti dipped in Vin Santo. When you get to the pearly gates, this is what they're serving.

I swore I'd never eat again. 

Till breakfast.

When hubby and I travel, we make it a point to never eat at the hotel we're staying in. We prefer to take our chances out and about. But, our zillion dollar hotel room came with breakfast so we felt like we had to. 

Good call.

How could you not eat in a place so lovely?

And how could you not love a waiter who brings you your own foot stool. I mean, right?

Even the flowers were delicious.

I just wish I could've filled all these plates. I tried.

I think I even love that toaster.

Man can't live by bread alone. So how about some of this?

And this...

A little bit of this...

Or, this...

Or, this...

Yeah, I know...ridonkulous.

No, I'm not kidding.

Yes, there's still more.

If you're feeling healthy.

Healthier...

A little cereal? Granola? Pumpkin seeds?

Yogurt? Like, the best in the world...yes, that's a whole wall of champagne back there.

That's what I'm talkin' about.

Thought they'd never ask.

I know, looks like I hardly ate a thing.  That was my first plate.

I've gotta go...we're getting ready to go to dinner. And I ran out of time before I could add lunch pictures. 

So glad I brought my fat pants.