behold the bar italia iced chocolate. the surly counter boy took my order, and then turned away. when he faced front again, he held a drinking glass packed with chocolate gelato, to which he added as much cold chocolate milk as he could. and then he splashed a glug of normal milk in for good measure.
it was a luscious thing, but it threw a wrench in my post-cannelloni gelato plans. out back under the tarp, two sets of parents (three, if you count me and the boy), a baby, an aunt, a cousin and someone new, somehow managed to consume most of a lot of pasta. i turned thirty-three. my mother got on a plane. and just now, in two txts, she reports from the front:
“now in darwin to offload ill girl” and “stewardess fell, hit head, was unconscious, then vomited. suspected internal bleed.”
6 Comments
As they say in Ireland…durty dree! Happy Birthday!
That chocolate gelato erm drink erm scoop looks fabulous. I’m impressed your mum can sms. Mine has problems with double click…
thanks, sue!
yes, my mother has a random and peculiar set of skills, each of which surfaces at random and peculiar times (and not always the best time). she also has a joke involving a smudged drawing of a tree, and a man named vinnie.
happy HAPPY birthday bowb!
I do hope the pasta was just as fabulous. I too had a birthday lunch on norton street, up the hill at cafe barzu. i ended with dessert elsewhere; but bar italia is always a splendid place 🙂
your mum is hilarious. at first i thought the incidents belonged to two different people!
happy thirty three! when a third of a year has passed, you shall be up to speed (bad, bad joke you may not get).
that gelato confection is worth a little counter surliness.
thank you, saffron! my ricotta-spinach cannelloni was yummy, as was my mum’s prawn and bacon spag. i tried one of the boy’s gnocchi, and as earlier clarified, that one piece was enough for me.
santos: um. is it some sort of obscure record reference? heh heh. i had to go off and do a load of dishes to think about it. the counter boy wasn’t bad-surly even; nothing in the vicinity of soup nazi. although the punters on eatability sure have a lot to say about it.
The Bar Italian iced coffee rocks my socks as well.
And yup, I’ve just been catching up on your posts too. I’m with Robyn – a lazy RSSer.