Nosh

...isn't strictly the word for our soiree-at-table, night before last. But the food was memorably good tasting and unique to the neighborhood, I think, and after all, this is Venezia, where complaints ought by rights to arouse derision in the hearer. Or even contempt, for dissing this ultimately classy old city?

But back to the title/subject. We did enjoy a primi and secondi piatti, with several entrée choices, half litre of white wine and focaccia (served I think as a sort of "munch to distribute other simultaneous flavors"). Oh. It was about €45 altogether.

But the fun part was visiting with the proprietor himself, ever watchful to catch the eye of possibly hungry passersby. And we were watching that endless stream of tourists, each making for a studied attraction or region, or a few who seemed genuinely lost. Trying to discern the natives from visitors. Often that's easy. Many Italian women are consumately aristocratic looking, both in dress and deportment. My sense is that the men with them worry less about style, just counting themselves lucky to be near them. Tourists are just trying to cope.

Arrival to well-fed departure, a little over two hours of happy dawdling.