I thought I’d take advantage of the lull between construction and deconstruction here and show you pictures of our lunch on Federal Hill, in Providence.

My daughter-in-law wanted to eat in a “real” Italian restaurant, so we found one with a Mafia history and a Frank Sinatra soundtrack.

My happy Texans.

My son is known for his large appetite.  He ordered chicken parm.

He was very happy.

And he finished every bite.

And because it was his birthday celebration, he had dessert.

We picked out all sorts of special pastries at the Italian bakery and then trudged through the rain to Venda Ravioli, the best and biggest deli in Rhode Island.  We bought ravioli at Venda’s to cook for dinner–I had meatballs and sauce waiting in the crock pot–but no one was hungry!  Imagine that!

Post-martini shopping.

Last stop?  Gasbarro’s liquor store to buy the wine for Thanksgiving.  One of the owners offered us doughnuts from a huge Dunkin Donuts box on the counter.  The Funny Grandson took him up on it, of course.  The kid is a doughnut freak, but more about that in another post.

FG slept all the way home, to the shock and awe of his parents.  It did eventually stop raining, which made the drive home easier.

Banjo Man had stayed home to monitor a particularly dreadful day in the stock market, but we brought him cookies and pasta and sauce and bread so he didn’t feel too left out.