An early supper (we gathered at a quarter before 5 p.m.) at Italianni's on Tomas Morato Ave., Quezon City, gave four women a chance to listen to one another while nibbling from a platter of greens, another filled with deceivingly small ravioli baked with cheese, sidings of potato wedges with truffle-infused dip.
There was pizza with wild mushrooms, but as the most senior in the group said about that tiny appetizer that could pack a wallop, one piece of ravioli, no matter how slowly, mindfully you chew it to let the cheese's richness fill your mouth, once that thing lands in your tummy--oh dear, it does feel like a heavy stone. There wasn't space for a slice of pizza, not even for toppings of fresh leaves that I thought would be my atonement for the carbo binge.
Forgive us for this rare indulgence for we knew not what we did. We should be busy with what we've committed ourselves to doing in our respective areas for the rest of the year. By chance we also discovered that we've individually promised ourselves in the new year to cut down on the socializing or discourage others' encroachments on our private time, but this Thursday we exempted ourselves from futile promises like those. For one reason: it has become increasingly rare for these four women plus one chap who dropped in after three hours to pick up his partner to be on one floor area together.