|Photo from www.asiarooms.com|
Back at the hotel, I took off my sweater, abandoned my umbrella, sneaked into the darkened office of the hotel manager to locate the password for the WiFi, and commenced to search the Internet for a good restaurant. I kept coming seeing Pallotta Trattoria, where I was fairly sure the Chinese family had reservations. I slipped back down the hill, accepted a seat with my back to a roaring real fire (the draw on the chimney was loud), and examined the menu. There were two married Americans and their crying, five-month old infant and a couple of older Italian couples seated in the front room. The Chinese party was in the back of the restaurant so they did not see their stalker. Yes, I had come here primarily because I figured if they had left their country during the Chinese New Year to come to Rome with grandma and their children, then it was probably a very good place.
Here are some pictures of my meal, taken as each new course was graciously set before me. The service was spectacular. The waiter and waitress both spoke English and the maître d'hôtel, who I suspect was also the owner, could make herself understood.