A pastry shop and coffee shop in Argegno...
In Como, I have an expresso macchiato while I read the critically-acclaimed best-seller Non Ti Muovere, one of the books I most loathed in my life. The boring, self-centered, boo-hoo-poor-me confession of a man who remembers a sordid sexual affair while his daughter lies in a coma... The New York Times Book Review called it "Beautiful. . . . The splintered, humanizing observations that constantly animate this novel . . . are exhilarating." Beats me.
And at a tiny ristorante in Tremezzo, where only the locals go, some antipasti (pickled onions, baby artichokes and white flagioli) and a tiramisu. I blush to admit this, but growing up I was convinced that the tiramisu was a Japanese dessert - doesn't the name sound Japanese?