We walk into a sports bar, nondescript but for the waterbearer statue fountain. Nana-in-the-back makes the bread and desserts from scratch. She's a pastry chef who wanted to open a pastry shop, but played it safe and opened a sports bar instead.
Note to self: playing safe causes sadness and tragedy, like Old World Italian pastry chefs opening sports bars.
I complimented her bread and told her to close the pub and open a bakery or at least open a bakery window. I declined her offer to make me a free tiramisu, but I pled that La Monstra was waiting in the car, so she gave me a slice of her homemade yogurt bread. If I had stayed any longer she would have made me a bigamist.
Viktor Frankl was right. When you nurture people's search for meaning, they give you things for free.