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Fresh Tortellini

Bronwen Tate

A casa fra pochissimo. Sitting outside the fountain waiting for Daniele and listening to a couple of maybe Mormons or Jehovah’s witnesses talking to this guy in English about “asking ourselves questions.” Magari. Though I guess any kind of jam or something in a jar would be fine. Thanksgiving, but I’m not feeling especially thankful since the oven fucked up my pie crust. I’ve been told that there’s a nice enoteca on via San Felice, where I rarely go.

Bronwen Tate

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