Yesterday I went to a PTA coffee where I two women who invited me to join them for lunch. Rita is Italian. She has moved every 2 years in her adult life, and has lived in Paris, Rome, Milan, New Jersey among other places. Mariko was raised in Kyoto and sent to California as a teenager to go to an American boarding school. She married a Navy officer who is working at the embassy. They have lived in Japan twice and a number of years in Fairfax county Virginia. Clearly, the three of us have a lot of moves between us.
Rita suggested an Italian restaurant. Once there, Rita carefully surveyed the menu and then suggested what we should order. We started with a sampler of Mozzarella--three kinds. It was about he freshest mozzarella I've had outside of the North End of Boston. Yummy.
Still, something amusing about the fact Rita told Mariko what to order, so she could translate it to Japanese for the waiter. The wait staff would deliver the meal and tell us, in Japanese, how to eat the food that is Rita's native fare.
Mariko said she would take us to a traditional Japanese restaurant for lunch next time. I offered to do my part too: MacDonald's and then follow up with a Starbucks.