Arnon Grunberg


Al dente

Last night I had dinner with my godson and his mother in Lincoln ristorante near Lincoln Plaza. We didn’t have reservations but we could get a table outside, not far from the pool. Lincoln was offering specialties from Puglia, which reminded me of the summer of 2003. That summer I went on a vacation to Puglia, somewhere between Bari and Brindisi.
My godson ordered spaghetti vongole – he was happy with the vongole, but less so with the spaghetti. “The spaghetti is too hard,” he said.
“This is what’s called al dente,” I said.
“No,” he said, “it’s just too hard.”
I disagree with him, Lincoln was excellent.

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