When I was nineteen I started a small publishing house called Kasimir. That’s how I met my friend Karol. I needed a translator Polish-Dutch. My publishing house vanished, the friendship didn’t. On Sunday Karol arrived in New York for a short visit.
Tonight I took him to Sant Ambroeus.
Seated next to us was a young couple, speaking half French half English.
The man threw lots and lots of Parmesan cheese on his spaghetti aglio e olio. Call me a snob but cheese on spaghetti aglio e olio is a crime that should not go unpunished.