There’s no other word for it really – or words if one is being precise.

E was taking me out for a belated birthday dinner at Bocca di Lupo.  I’d fancied going for a while, so when he asked me to choose the restaurant I didn’t hesitate.

We looked at the menu as the waiter appeared.  “What should I have to drink E, I just don’t know” I asked with a concerned expression.

“I don’t know S, glass of champagne?”

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I’ll have”

We giggled.  Off to a flying start on the silliness we checked out the various dishes.  Lots of ceviche, sage leaves rolled in artichokes – or was it the other way around? Cornish anchovies,  Guinea fowl, Tuna tartare, baked scallops and lo and behold a ‘B.Y.O. Truffle’ menu.”

“What do you think that means E?  Do you think many people bring their own truffles” I said frowning.

“Maybe S, let’s ask.  I’m sure they could sell us some at a nicely inflated price if I can’t find the one I bought earlier.

There was a pause.  The table tipped.  “We’re going to have to get a box of matches to put under this leg.”

We giggled again.

“What do you think Spinach and Ricotta Malfatti is?” E looked bemused.

“I don’t know but it sounds rather rude.” I replied.

Service was brusque and non-smiling.  We lamented the lack of love in even an expensive London kitchen these days.  “It’s all about the money S, pack ‘em in tight and do what you need to do – but no more.”

A couple of courses later found us choosing a Pistachio ice cream to round off the meal. Our waiter approached. “I’d love a liqueur or something – what would you recommend?”  He looked glum. “Here, sit down” I said patting the seat beside me.

He sighed while he rested his legs and suggested a Capitelli.

I held it to my nose and was transported to another place. Floral aromas, lemony Italian summer days, ripe lusty apricots eaten by the beach.  I took a sip: Heavenly.

A large party arrived next to us. A number of bottoms squeezed in between our tables, blocking my view, hampering our conversation.  The man nearest leant over.  “Sorry, we’re a bit close” he said.  “May I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

“You certainly may” I replied and held my glass over for him to savour the aroma of my choice.