Enoteca Buccone, Rome
March 1985When they finally emerged from Valerio's, it was late afternoon and time to walk off the giant meal they had consumed. Giorgio took the reins again and guided Tamara down wide streets and narrow alleys, pointing out the architectural designs and carved shrines that were etched into the corners of the buildings.
He even pointed out the best galleries where tourists were known to shop for copies of the Italian masterpiece paintings. And a tiny shop with a brightly lit window where gleaming gems and gold necklaces were on display.
“The streets in my home of Firenze are, of course, the best place to buy gold, but…” he shrugged and paused for a beat, “this one's not too bad either.”
With no warning, Giorgio turned right and stepped through the door into a wi
