What was it like to dust off my passport? It was brilliant! From the moment I hit Delta and ran for my ritual martini I was off and flying. My mood lifted. I sprinted like a kid down the runway to the gate. And then I landed in Milan. Took a train to Parma where my travel buddy and barkeep of Tabarro, Diego Sorba picked me up. In an hour we were at his wife’s 94-year-old grandmother’s yard and Sunday lunch for 18 or so. Cinghiale and polenta for them. Polenta and leaves of lettuce for me. Reinforced and sustained, I saw some raw talent and gave his daughter and her best friend their first Morris dance class. Brilliant girls. Me and my two sweethearts. That night I jetlagged outside of Tabarro while Diego played host, putting me in the vicinity of some of his regulars. There was one fiery Romanian, one energetic heart doctor, an eccentric doctor-turned-antique peddler, and an enthusiastic x-ray technician on the eve of starting sommelier training. Soon we were at one table, drinking. Lots. Knowing anchovies cure jetlag, Diego served me some from Cantabria along with an assortment of Brittany butter. Those salty anchovies […]