Opening the refrigerator, he felt as if he was looking at a great discovery, some sort of vast treasure buried by pirates. Adelina had gone overboard cooking for him. The works: eggplant parmesan, pasta and sausage, caponata, eggplant dumplings, caciocavallo di Ragusa, and passuluna olives. Apparently there wasn't any fresh fish at the market. He set the table on the veranda, and as the eggplant parmesan and pasta were warming up, he drank two glasses of cold white wine to Fazio's health. When he got up to phone Livia, a good three hours had passed since he'd first sat down.
He slept badly.
The Dance of the Seagull, Andrea Camilleri
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