“I’m going to seat you up at the bar” the manager said when I booked Bocca di Lupo. “I think you’ll like it, you’re overlooking the kitchen and there’s always a bit of drama going on.”
A and I met at 8pm and took our places. High stools at a high bar in front of which we could see grills, deep fat fryers, cooking on gas and four intensely focused chefs. One in particular caught my eye. He never looked up not even when he was called to produce another rack of lamb and mountain of rocket. Just a ‘Yes Chef!’ and the sound of a hatchet striking bone followed.
Conversations with Strangers 