In America, typically, you order a couple large pizzas for the table. Assuming that it was no different here, for me it was not a question of if we would share, it was a question about what we would share.
As I walk the streets of Florence, I can't help but reflect back on my first visit here so many decades ago. At that time, I was like countless others seeking to lose my innocence like a Henry Miller -- or was it James? -- heroine.