I had a break in the shooting schedule and decided to come home for a visit. I talked to Peter everyday when I was away, but Angela was not one to reveal much over the phone. I needed to come home. Angela doesn’t believe in vacations. She would only travel for a “serious purpose” as she puts it — meeting a mentor in New York, going to school in Andover, taking summer courses at Brown, or attending a cousin’s wedding in Los Angeles. Since she doesn’t have a serious purpose in Budapest, she will not travel there.
I used to lug Angela around the world with me when she was younger, but slowly she stopped wanting to go anywhere. I found out that the external and physical world has never held as much power for her as the inner and intangible world that exists only in her head. The vast, fertile and zigzagging interior terrain is where she prefers to explore.
In an effort to gain insight into her mind and to stay connected when I am not with her, I resort to reading the books that she has read, and carefully considering all the notes scribbled by her on the pages. Angela often sells the books back to Green Apple Books, a local bookstore, after she’s finished reading them, but the store doesn’t accept the ones with too much doodling. Those are the ones I inherit — my conduit to her world. I have also begun to follow Angela on Spotify and listen to the songs on her playlists. In Budapest, I was reading The Street of Crocodiles by Bruno Schulz and listening to Troubled Mind by Marina and the Diamonds, imagining what Angela felt about certain metaphors or symbolism. The longer I didn’t see Angela, the more consumed I became by the incessant wondering about what’s on her mind. Only coming home and seeing her could relieve me. Nothing is more reassuring than hugging the healthy body of one’s own child.
It was a glorious day in San Francisco, sunny, warm and with a pleasant sea breeze, not at all our typical foggy cold summer day. Peter took off from work to spend time with me. We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito for lunch. Poggio Trattoria was recommended to us by one of Peter’s patients, who lives in Sausalito. Everything on the menu looked enticing to me. Peter ordered grilled octopus for appetizer and seafood fregula pasta as main course. I ordered burrata to start and grilled salmon with fresh summer corn for the main course. We loved all the dishes. After a month of rich Hungarian food, the lighter Californian-Italian cooking was a much desired change for me. A perfect and long overdue date with the man of my life.
If you ever visit Sausalito, Poggio is definitely worth your while to dine in.