Pizza polpettine

As only Lil Frankie's can make it. I did it again. Ate it all. Our Learned Leader sprang for lunch when he heard me muttering pizza thoughts. All I had to do was fetch it, which I did after waiting the requisite 15 minutes. Mr Bob, who had already eaten, ate more. We are partial to these little meatballs, the melted buffalo mozzarella, the light tomato sauce.

That was yesterday. Today I took Natalie to the tiny Tuck Shop on 1st Street, to eat $5 pies, and to see if the Australian I want her to marry was there. He was. She was impressed. The pies were good. I had lamb, for a change (usually chook and ham), and a just-tossed green salad. She had a vegetable pie and brussels sprouts. They serve beer and wine too, which is an excellent thing to know.

And just to round out the neighbourhood restaurant tour, tonight our work-pack goes to Inoteca for the annual shindig. These dinners are usually riddled with traps for the socially opinionated, like me, but at least I got to choose the menu. Sort of. We'll see.