Good service

27 August 2009

I chose not to have a dessert at the Napoli Italian restaurant last night. I was so full of garlic bread, caprese salad with amazing mozzarella and the strascinato pasta with chicken, ham and cherry tomatoes. The idea of adding two or three scoops of ice cream or sorbet on top of the rather large food baby I was now carrying did not appeal. I was already sitting up incredibly straight, that being the only way to fit my expanded stomach in at the table.

We had been entertained the entire evening by our exuberant waiter, who was rather enjoying playing host to a table of young ladies. Lauren and Suzy ordered sorbets and he soon brought them along. As he placed Lauren’s lemon sorbet down in front of her, opposite me, I noticed a heart dusted onto the corner of the dish in cocoa. “Hey, that’s favouritism!” I objected. Profuse and dramatic apologies followed, with the promise to practically give me his own heart next time I visited. I accepted his apology and went back to sucking on the lemon slices I’d somewhat indecorously collected from all the glasses on our table.

A few minutes later he was back and put a plate in front of me, saying in his thick Italian accent, “I made this for you!” He’d brought me a scoop of strawberry ice cream, a squirdle of whipped cream, a couple of wafers and, of course, a cocoa heart.