Fritto Misto

 
 

Sunday in Venice. I sleep in. That lazy Sunday morning that has little do with sleep & more to do with rest. Awake. Under the covers. I have a feather duvet from Pandora made with angel wings. My bed is an experience. I lay eyes closed. Music playing. The aromatherapy diffuser slightly misting citron vert. Lime for releasing anxiety & stress. Steven Favreau - somehow I can never refer to Steven with 1 name - said it. “You’re better at self care than anyone I know.” At first it was my salvation - then it became a way of life. I am wondering if I can squeeze in a massage before I leave for Parma but don’t see how. This week @mercanteinfiera_parma is always one of our busiest weeks of the year at @theantiquesdiva. And this year we are busier than normal. I swear it’s like everyone is back and on speed. Chiara & Orseola will join in Parma to help as guides. Melanie as VP comes from France. We will have a special British night with our English dealers. It’s all hands on deck. We have so many clients I fear I might lose track. Plus an editor who is quickly becoming a friend.

Confession, it was after 12 when @mrclintsmith texts & I was still in bed. “I have a craving for Fritto Misto.” he says. I am suddenly starving. It sends me down a long calorie laden road of restaurant suggestions until we decide on Paradiso Perduto in Canneregio. A long walk across town. I beg to differ - paradise wasn’t lost - it’s been found. Alessandro first introduced me to this place. Sunday afternoons filled with large tables of Italians gathering. Loud conversations. Laughter. Plates of squid, gambas, polpo grilled coming to the kitchen. The restaurant is so full we have to sit on the stage. I drape my fur over the piano and Clint is nestled up against the drums. The arm of a guitar protruding over his shoulder. We are talking and his eyes follow the plates of food coming from all directions. “Organized chaos.” He says. Which might be a perfect way to describe what he’ll experience at the antiques fair later in the week. And yet in Italian fashion everything miraculously is to perfection. Clint tastes the fritto misto & smiles in a way that makes him look 20 years younger. Viva! Italia!


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