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Carpaccio di bue dressed in lemon and oil, whole peppers stuffed with cheese and prosciutto, buffalo mozzarella with fresh tomatoes and roasted peppers draped with marinated Italian anchovies, grilled salmon with roasted potatoes and garretto d’agnello—spring lamb braised in red wine, served with grilled eggplant and potato puree. Laura touched a finger to the ravioli di zucca e noci (hand-made, green ravioli filled with butternut squash and served in a sage cream sauce) and I looked at the bianchi e neri just below—black-and-white ravioli filled with shrimp in a simple lemon and marjoram beurre blanc.

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When I stepped back outside, the wind had picked up. The fuzz from the cottonwood trees was blowing so thick down the street it looked like a freak summer snow storm, but the rain wasn’t far behind. I walked back down the boardwalk and crossed towards the water, looking for Laura, finding her sitting, waiting. She asked what I’d found to eat.

“Jesus, you must be the happiest boy in the world.”

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For those of you who just can’t get your fill of talking shit right here in town, there's quite a lively discussion on the Food Media and News forum here at chowhound.com . The focus appears to be primarily about how much I suck, how crooked / deluded / psychotic / egotistical I am and how nothing I say can be trusted since my July 2004 kneecapping of The Kitchen in Boulder -- which was not a great restaurant then and continues to not be a great restaurant now.

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