The bowl of olive oil for bread is filled with good ripe olives. The antipasto plate is the best in town, with salami, beefy bresola, a ball of fresh mozzarella creamier than a latte, Parmesan cheese and a mountain of prosciutto. Melon with that lovely ham, often a dainty appetizer, was more than two could eat without embarrassment. An arugula salad came with more shaved Parmesan than I've seen in a year. That's vigorous sensuality, not piggishness. A special of octopus magically grilled to charred lobster richness was all the more delightful because of the free hand in seasoning with lemon juice and dusky pink peppercorns.
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