Chapter 32
San Francisco, 1945
Tony was in heaven. The osso buco at Fior D’Italia was just as tender and flavorful as his mother’s special recipe that he recalled. And the Barolo wine from Piemonte—exquisite. Even though he’d had a lot to drink, he was celebrating, wasn’t he?
He patted his full stomach and leaned back in his chair. “Fine choice of restaurants, Doc. You were right.”
“My father’s family was from northern Italy. This reminds me of some of our traditional dishes, although the seafood on the Sorrento peninsula is magnificent. Thought I might as well share my best finds in San Francisco with you before I leave.”
“What time do you board your ship in the morning?”
“I should be there by eight. Where are you staying?”
Tony stroked his chin. He figured he’d find a room. “Plent
