Italian Meat Market

This evening as I was walking Seattle I turned the corner to discover an Italian meat and cheese counter.  Out of curiosity I stepped one foot in the door (trying not to commit) to be greeted by three Italian men, "Ciao Bella".  In a matter of two minutes, I was served with a slice of prosciutto and toscono cheese and offered a beer.    The prosciutto was melt in your mouth delicious.  It wasn't too salty or dry. It was soft, chewy and delectable.   They took one look at Seattle's cute yet deprived doggy face, and whimpered "shame" while offering Seattle a slice of pizza.  He now manipulates people with sad puppy eyes to get special treats and favors.

I asked the man helping me if they could package the prosciutto and have it ready for me Friday afternoon.  He answered "Yes, I will have it ready just in time for dinner for the two of us."  Ahhh, yes, I almost forgot you ARE Italian.  I laughed and declined the offer, but it put a smile on my face.  So sly.

The French may have the romance language, but Italians know how to romance (even at the meat market).