Did you drink and dial?

This week I ate at two Italian restaurants in Fort Worth, Aventino's and The Italian Inn. In retrospect, I have a feeling this'll be some of the last eating out I do, since a desperate squirreling away of pennies seems to be in order. It's going to be hard not to eat out, not to mention that a scaling down of my Netfux subscription is undoubtedly in order, but I'll worry about that later. In the meantime, the restaurants...

The first one, Aventino's, was more fine dining. I had the pumpkin gnocchi, which was really tasty. Before ordering, the waitress actually asked if I wanted to relax with my wine and book. While I was reading, she brought out some English peas--compliments of the chef--with this powdered olive oil side I still can't explain despite asking about it a second time--damn was it good. It was Monday, so it was pretty quiet all around and I finished off two books I'd been reading.

And I loved Aventino's but I admit it, The Italian Inn was way more my place. It's a Fort Worth favorite I've been meaning to try for a while. The doors boast, "Home of the Singing Waiters!" and I always just sorta took that to mean birthday stuff. No. First of all, the minute you enter you have to go downstairs into a basement, and you're surrounded by graffiti from the get-go. Years of it. It's the new Flying Tomato! (For me, anyway.)

The booths have doors on them that even close (rowr!), and there is a raised piano on the main floor, where the waitstaff periodically get up and sing Beatles, Broadway, classics, whatever. I got off the phone when I heard my waitress singing All My Lovin, since that is the best Beatles song, full stop.

And hey, the food rocked, too! Always a plus. I was reading a book, but was easily distracted by the graffiti. There are notes under the booth tabletops, which are all glasstops. 98% are anniversary "I totally love you baby" type stuff, but there was a clear winner:

Dear Larry,

Did you ever think you'd see the day when I'd be here with your ex-wife and you'd be living under a fucking rock--where you belong, scumbag. Maybe next time you'll value what you have and life will hand you what you deserve--warts and herpes. In the meantime, we'll be in Europe drinking champagne, asshole.

Love,
Greg & V.

Easily my favorite.

And honestly, it's reasonably priced enough that perhaps I can go back a couple more times before August. The girls at work want to treat me to dinner next Friday, so I think I'm opting for this place!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm starting to watch The Boy In the Striped Pajamas. Bet it's a laugh riot.