A description of dinner for Caroline

Bruce and I Skyped with his sister Jane on Bowen Island the other day and yesterday with his sister-in-law Caroline in Prince George, one of the most faithful of my blog readers though we've never met. And yet they both feel like family.

Tonight he and I went back for dinner to the restaurant we discovered yesterday - Monti D.O.C., recommended in my French guide, a warm elegant room with simple, inexpensive food and no other tourists. Bruce asked me to write about the food for Caroline, who wants to know what we're eating and won't find out from him.

So - of course we were ridiculously early for Italians, there at 7.45. They offer an aperitif menu for people at that time, so they can sit and drink and have a snack before they go out for dinner at, say, 9.30. He and I, however, being the uncultured Norte Americanos that we are, ate dinner. Yesterday I had eggplant parmesan, light and flavourful, and he a lasagna made with homemade pasta. Tonight he had the eggplant and I had a soup with chickpeas and spinach ("Ze cheek peas are smash-hed," said the waitress, "but not too smash-hed." And they weren't.) and a dish made with a big glob of almost melted delicious Tormino cheese surrounded by grilled zucchini.

And the only word is: delicioso. A glass of wine, and yesterday a tiramisu to die for. A guitarist came in and began to tune up - as we were leaving, a party of ten women arrived for dinner (at 8.45.) The guitarist began to play and was so out of tune that we had to get away before Bruce the musician started to howl.

There, Caroline - that was dinner. I took a picture but it's completely out of focus, and I hadn't even had my glass of wine yet.