What kind of a question was that? Does a cat like catnip? Does a bear like honey? Am I not already standing by the door ready to go? Oh yes.
The beauty of Eataly, apart from the physical beauty of the products and their packaging, is that everything sold here is in season, grown or raised near-by. The store specializes in finding small Italian producers, who you can often see at Eataly delivering their goods, meeting customers and participating in one of the market’s two teaching kitchens. And if it is an imported product, it is protected by the Terra Madre group of the Slow Food organization.
While she went off to see what pasta dishes looked interesting I twirled around for another five minutes or so trying to decide what I wanted. It was time to declare my choice. It wasn’t easy. Up to this point every food counter we passed was like an encounter with the Sirens Ulysses was warned about, those seductive nymphs who so charmed the sailors of old that the besotted boys threw them-selves into the sea to follow them, only to die. In the end I dove into a large plate of the steamed mussels in white wine with garlic and parsely.
Before going back to our hotel, we stopped at the Eataly bookstore where Ginny bought a couple of beautiful children’s books for her granddaughters and I sat in one of the easy chairs with a pile of cookbooks on my lap, dreaming of all the things I could make if only I could put my bed in a corner and live in Eataly forever.
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Photos: (1) Eataly: Cousin Ginny and her Easter egg, (2) Eataly: part of the meat section, (3)Eataly: one of the many food counters, (4) Eataly: Wrapping up Easter Eggs; (5) Buona Pasqua a tutti.
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