"this coffee reminds me of italy. . ."
bingo. after all these years, this is the statement i've been waiting for. to have coffee my husband thinks is almost as good as the tazza d'oro.
and how did it finally happen? with jessica's fresh dancing goats, and caesar vibiemme.
long-time readers know that while i talk about coffee all the time, it's my husband who's the real snob and generally refuses coffee outside of rome. the question: can i repeat this miracle?
in other news, i took the bentley (since the subways were barely running. . .actually i didn't quite have to resort to a car, but i did get creative) and sought all over mall-hattan in search of mitsouko body lotion. no dice.
finally i have found something that absolutely cannot be purchased anywhere in nyc for any price. . .