I am in Italy, prisoner of the Gruppo Ristoratori Italiani, a horde of crazy U.S.-based Italian chefs who go to Italy one week a year and eat like they're never going to see food again.
Okay, maybe that's a bit unkind. Actually, it's totally inaccurate, the ramblings of someone trying to jot a few words before slipping into a food coma. The GRI is a group of charming and quite interesting restaurateurs, their friends and assorted others who choose one of Italy's 20 regions to visit each year and check out the food and wine there. I am one of their guests, along with some other journalists etc. The week's almost over and I doubt very seriously that I'll able to go into much detail about the adventure that has been my trip to Puglia (the heel and lower calf of the great Italian boot) before boarding a plane in Brindisi that will take me to Rome, where I will board a plane and fly home to New York.
But I wanted to check in with you, say hello, and let you know that I haven't forgotten about you, dear reader. I'll let you know of my adventures as soon as I can.
In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of an Adriatic monkfish.