Safely ensconced in my personal sauna, I napped and turned on the tv and found some sort of American Hallmark Channel movie about a woman who meets a wealthy guy who helps her save her dog rescue, or somesuch, which was good background while I did some of my not-very-good embroidery.
More napping, eating my leftovers, turning on the tv to find Italian Food Network. Joe Bastianich and some gigantic meaty fox with lots of hair help rescue failing restaurants, including one called La Principessa. It is owned by a woman so glorious, so much herself that she cannot be unseen. The food is apparently inedible, and her manner is completely off the wall. The only subtitles were in my mind, but it was apparent that the standard menu had no abbreviations for the cooks, and she often took them longhand, with whatever descriptions. Damn, this was good. In the end they took down her beautiful old neon street sign and replaced it with something unattractive, but at least they toned La Principessa down a notch herself.
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