We'll be back, Giuliana.

A little quaint restaurant. Out in the country. Sort of in the middle of nowhere. But it’s really in Paradise. So idyllic. Quiet. Serene. Tranquil. The owner, Giuliana, a pretty, young Italian woman, calls it the Trattoria Bar. Just outside the village of Villamassargia. Only a half-hour drive from the Sardinian city of Carbonia. And maybe nicest of all, the restaurant is plunked down in the middle of a vast grove of olive trees. Some of ‘em 600 or 700 years old. And the trees look it. Thick, gnarled, withered trunks. Anyway, my true love and I started off with caffe macchiato before we sauntered through the olive grove. With a message that we’d return in an hour or two. For lunch. But before we could leave the bar, a white kitten came to greet us. And she nuzzled up my pants leg. To tell me that maybe she’s related to by loving cat Loverboy. Back home in Minnesota. They both have the same loving instincts. Warming up to any and everybody. Not the least bit shy about showing unrestrained affection. When we sat down for lunch, the cat sneaked into the dining room. With intent to greet us again. But she was quickly ushered out by Giuliana. To my chagrin. I have nothing against dining with cats. They are the best of company. Anyway, the meal was delicious. I had a traditional Sardinian pasta with bits of pork and tomato sauce. My true love had an Italian sausage with potatoes. And we sipped home-brewed white wine. But it all tasted like nectar and ambrosia, the same fare on the menu for the gods on Mount Olympus. It was one of my most satisfying afternoons in Sardinia, since my arrival on Oct. 2. I’m sure my true love and I will return. Again and again and again. Keep a table open for us, Giuliana. –Jim Broede