When I die I want to go to Gino heaven where I can eat all day and never get fat, never be overloaded or sick. I can go from warm octopus salad with arugula & cherry tomatoes to tagliatelle with lamb ragu and wash it down with the lovely La Massa without a care that it will be too much for me. I can even eat the warm Nonna cake with pine nuts and vanilla ice cream, so divine. God won't care, neither will Gino. He'll just laugh and take another swallow of whatever he is drinking. It's easy for him to cook in heaven, no heat. A few tables with comfortable chairs and a wall of wine whose bottles are magically replaced as one is removed. The tables are in the middle of an olive grove with little bamboo lights hung from the branches. It is heaven, Gino heaven. But it's MY Gino heaven,
here on earth, in Los Angeles, on Beverly Blvd, and all you have to do is call.
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