DISCLAIMER: If you haven’t guessed by this blog’s title, this post is about veal. If you have a problem with people who eat said heavenly meat, maybe you don’t want to read this post, but please do visit again, please and thank you. I assure you I’m not a bad person, completely.
Sorry PETA and non-eaters, but there is just something so delicious about veal done right. Whenever I see it on a menu, I wistfully read its description – saltimbocca, parmesan, wiener schnitzel, piccata, I love it all.
I am my father’s daughter after all.
Tonight was no exception.
Tonight's yummy dinner.
Mommalah and I dined at darling little Italian place not five minutes from my house, and tonight’s special was veal something or other (I can’t remember for the life of me what the dish was called).
I know it might be wrong (and like my beloved “G.I. Joe” cartoon from the ’80s, always said, “knowing is half the battle,” right?), but I just couldn’t resist.
Eggplant.
Roma tomatoes.
Mozzarella.
Olive oil wine sauce.
Veal.
What’s not to love, really?
The entrée was exquisite. The sauce had that lovely clean olive-oil flavor to it, while the veal, eggplant, roasted tomatoes and red peppers all complemented each other deliciously. It’s rare that I let myself eat this manna from the gods, but I love when it’s worth the dirty looks from Mommalah …
NMM
Ink for Blood 
God that image is great looking! What was the name of the place?
Cafe Italia, in Pittston-ish. Fantasic!