We are in Bologna. I simply cannot leave without having had tagliatelle alla bolognese. So for lunch we find a trattoria where I will be able to live my dreams. With - surprise surprise - a Hugo spritz in hand, I dig in. The ragu lightly coats the pasta, clinging to it rather than drowning it. There is copious parmesan to add to it, and I do. It is simple and effective and delicious. This is the kind of place that just has whatever dessert the chef fancies that day, and I am thrilled to be told it’s a chocolate cake, and even more thrilled to be actually served a chocolate fondant, dutifully oozing out chocolate sauce from an eminently peneterable casing, served with whipped cream to lighten it up. Just what I wanted out of this.