What do you say we finish up this "three" day tour of NYC? Ok, we left St. Peter's church and began to make our way uptown, realizing it would take a few hours to get back to the hotel on a good day with fresh legs. We decided that that wasn't going to happen so we made a pit stop at the first coffee shop we came to.

Why do women have to pee so often?

Any way, we thought it best to catch a cab. It was beginning rush hour and we were on a one way street going the wrong way. We found our way, after a few blocks to a street heading in the right direction and hailed a cab, and were back at the hotel in 15 min.


Remember that Italian restaurant that I told you about? The one 2 1/2 blocks away from the hotel that we were going to go to with Aris? Yah, well at some point prior to now, we had strolled down to Park ave and back , maybe it was yesterday, I don't remember. Anyway, we found it and looking in the window ascertained that, indeed, we'd probably enjoy ourselves within.

So here we are, our last night in the Big Apple, Both fatigued from miles of walking, we decide the Italian place is just the ticket. (Just the ticket; that's a phrase I picked up from Leigh. I knew you'd want to know that.)

We rested for awhile, freshened up, took a shower, or did we? I don't know! I'm suffering from CRS syndrome. Off we go.
If you look closely on the edge of the awning is the name of the restaurant: iTrulli. This is the entrance to the dining room. Immediately to the left is another entrance, to their wine bar.
Not being city folk we are used to eating early and as such we were early in the respect that even without reservations we were able to be seated immediately. After a half hour or so the place filled up, partly I think, because of two parties. We had a nice table near the connection to the wine bar and across from the brick oven.
This is the fireplace, not the oven. ;-) Our waiter was of European descent; Italian I'm sure, but when I kept talking in French he asked from where in France I was from, saying that he himself had lived in Nice for nine years. (I told him my great grand parents came from Quebec.) This was as upscale a restaurant as I have ever eaten in. The staff was exceptionally attentive, the wine was superb and the four course meal was primo. And all the photos are on KB's camera/blog.

One parting anecdote: Some months ago Leigh and Karen took us to Little Italy up In Ottawa (Canada's capital city) and at the end of the evening took us to a little place for after dinner espressos and Leigh introduced me to Grappa. Grappa is a brandy of Italian origin. Although I drank it all, I found it tasted like kerosene. Blahhh! It's not that I dislike brandy. Quite to the contrary; I enjoy very much the Armagnac I brought back from Condom, France.
In remembrance of that night with Leigh, I ordered a Grappa after dessert. The appertif menu offered 4 or 5 five types/flavors of grappa. Intrigued that there were different grappas I asked for one that sounded exotic. It was quite pleasant and not at all like the Petrol flavored one I'd sipped in Ottawa. A wonderful dining experience that I whole heartily recommend.




Last stop before Penn Station and the return trip to Albany.

Pashmina shawls anyone?