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About Bologna

Once, I saw this gal, red heels clickin’, smokin’ a cig like she owned the night. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s runnin’ this show!” Made me happy—power in the shadows, ya know? But then—BAM—some creep rolls up, actin’ all tough, grabbin’ her arm. Pissed me off! Wanted to jump out, scream, “Why so serious, punk?!” But nah, stayed cool—Joker don’t snitch.

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Anyway, I finally make it to the market. It’s bustling! Fish everywhere! I’m talking fresh catch, the smell of the sea, and locals haggling like it’s an Olympic sport. I’m in heaven. I spot this old dude selling some crazy-looking fish. I’m like, “What’s that?” He just grins and says, “Pesce di fango.” I’m like, “What the heck is that?” Turns out, it’s mudfish. Who knew? I’m thinking, “I gotta get my hands on this!”

GIORGIO ANDREOTTA CALÒ