Today I was transported.
I heard a little boy with a delightful British accent say, “May I have a drink of water?” and I felt like I had entered a Dickens novel.
I rode the PATH train and got deep into a New York Times article titled, “Just How Good Can Italy Get?” and I may as well have been there eating the chocolate and hazelnuts or sausage myself. And then this line about the angel hair-like pasta called tagliatelle: These noodles carry butter as if they were created to.
Transported.
