En route Torino-San Francisco, July 26, 2016—
SPAGHETTI CARBONARA at the Torino airport; steak-frites at the Toronto airport. Hunger is the best sauce, someone said (I've seen this attributed to both Plato and Cervantes, and would love to have been at a symposium with the two of them hashing things out). Twenty-four consecutive hours in airports and airplanes leads to hunger and its other sauce, boredom. The food on the airplanes was mediocre, but lunch, a plate of spaghetti carbonara, wasn't bad — thank you, Torino.
A glass of white wine
At Toronto's Logan Airport my plane was delayed, and the check-in attendant suggested whiling away another forty minutes at dinner. The only possibility seemed to be a 12-ounce beefsteak and a pile of okay French fries. Could have been worse.
A glass of red
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