When I started thinking about the first time La Passeggiata (pa-se-ja-ta) came to my attention, it was not on my first visit to Italy, which was to the Eternal City of Rome, but on my second. I witnessed this time-old Italian custom in a tiny village I fell in love with. Since then it has become the most warming welcome each time I return. So what is this most precious tradition I refer to?
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Envies d'été
Tender.
Ripe.
Des tomates cerise.
Un crumble salé.
Une ballade au verger.
Un sorbet à la pêche blanche.
Une tarte aux myrtilles.
Un cobbler encore tiède.
Les glaces de Jeni's.
Plein de popsicles.
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