To round off the weekend, we ended up at a local restaurant this Sunday evening. The place, called Il Quadrifoglio (four-leaf clover), is located merely a stone’s throw away from our place and it does do some nice stuff. This time round we had a rather scrumptious plate of salmon with tagliatelle, scamorza cheese and weeny tiny octopuses. We washed this down with a nice white wine and followed it up, well, my son and I, with a very good fruits of the forest cream dessert. And coffee, of course. Then we came back home and I finished off yet another translation I’d been doing.
Stop reading, start speaking
Stop translating in your head and start speaking Italian for real with the only audio course that prompt you to speak.
Yep, once again, I found myself working on a Sunday. Tough, isn’t it? Well, sort of. When you work for yourself, you never really work ‘regular’ hours. I guess that is just one of the prices you pay for ‘freedom’.
Oh, and it’s baking hot here in Milan. No wonder most of the city’s inhabitants have fled for their summer breaks.
