It’s a sunny afternoon as we make our descend into Lisbon. I smile at the changing landscape below. We circle over where I assume the river Tagus joins the Atlantic ocean; the sun rays reflecting off the blue waters would make for some good photos but I continue to squint my eyes and watch from the corner of the window. We fly over a reddish suspension bridge that looks a lot familiar and I quickly turn to hubby, who is buried deep into this new book he bought at the airport, to ask him about it. By the time I manage to pull him towards the window, the bridge is far behind and we are flying over red rooftops, colourful houses and what looks like a bustling city spread up, down, and all around small hills. I forget about hubby leaning in to see the view, and unable to resist anymore, I begin to click a few photos excitedly.
My bowl of pasta looked very tempting! I could smell the garlic and basil from a distance, and couldn’t wait to dig in. Hubby’s creamy ravioli looked as sumptuous but I am more of a tomato sauce fan so, clearly I loved mine more! It tasted even better than its aroma and looks, trust me. By the time we licked the tiramisu off those lovely little dessert jars, we had concluded we ate the best Italian food in a long, long time.
It was perhaps the long walks we took during the day while touring this new city, that added to the flavours in tonight’s dinner, but even half hour later I was certain I had had the best Arrabbiata there! Pizza Pino was inching its way to becoming the delightful discovery of our visit.