The temperature was finally below 85°F (30°C) this afternoon. We decided to go out for dinner. Shortly before we left, it even rained a little, so we took a taxi. Before we got into the taxi, Kenric showed the driver on Google maps where we wanted to go with the restaurant name listed. He nodded but wasn’t convincing. While waiting for passengers, all the drivers had their car doors on the sidewalk side open. The driver didn’t close the front passenger door, so Kenric sat in the front with him which was a good thing because the driver wasn’t sure where the place was. He phoned a friend, “Pegasus……Locale?” I wondered if “Pagus” is pronounced “Pegasus” in Albanian. A few minutes later he phoned again asking the same questions. Kenric showed him the map and we were very close by.

The restaurant was pretty quiet except for Purple Rain playing in the background. I was happy to see that the restaurant enforces the no-smoking rule. I don’t know when Albanians usually have their dinner; there was only one other table. There were four when we left around 8:10 pm. It is a Wednesday night though.

When the wine came, I noticed the server poured me a lot less than what he poured Kenric. He was nice and gave us suggestions on what to order, and was very attentive throughout. I was telling Kenric how the Airbnb landlord also gave me a mild vibe of male chauvinism. On his way out after showing us the apartment, he gestured to Kenric that he will have someone come change the bedsheet. We usually decline because we would have to get out of the cleaner’s way and also clean up before the cleaner comes. Kenric said, “No, no.” and gestured that he would do it. The landlord shook his head and insisted. So, I gestured that I would do it, and he immediately said “OK!” At that exact moment, over the speakers of the restaurant, James Brown screamed “This is a man’s world!!” We bust out laughing. Now, if the landlord thought I would do a better job than Kenric, he’s wrong. I don’t know how to fold the “hospital corner”.

The antipasti was good; the honey was the best part. We shared the homemade ravioli, and the server gave us each two pieces. Kenric said he has never had pasta this fresh. I gave him half of mine because I don’t really like raviolis. He demanded a reason. “Too much doughy wrapper and not enough filling.” He smacked his forehead. “I’d rather eat a wonton or a shumai.” He smacked it again.

In the “grill room” the Chef was elaborately sprinkling salt onto our meat. He reminded me of the meme of that Turkish Chef, Salt Bae. The ribeye was really good by any standard. So was the tiramisu. We’ll definitely return, but only wine by the glass.

On our way home, we walked by many bars and restaurants in the Blloku neighborhood. Most of the people at the bars were drinking coffee, soda or water. Occasionally, we’ll see people drinking alcoholic beverages. After the complete fall of communism in Albania in 1992, many former Muslims continued to lead secular lives, but many also returned to Islam. Hence, coffee and sodas at the bars. Many former Orthodox Christians and Catholics are also non-practicing.

As we got closer to home, it was clear where everyone was on this warm Wednesday night – at the cafes and Skanderbeg Square. We even saw a family of Malaysians at the square.

Map of Places Visited