Scenes from an Italian Restaurant

Ask me about the night I met my husband and dined with clients in the courtyard of a little Italian restaurant in Danville, CA, and how I was surprised to see a man of his physique and the detective means I deliberated as a way for him to notice me.

Ask about his foreign tan skin, charismatic smile, and dark, adventurous eyes and how his striking biceps popped seamlessly under his fitted button-down, short-sleeved, crisp white shirt.

Ask about how I approached him when he was behind the bar, inquiring where the bathroom was with butterflies spinning in my belly.

Ask me if I remembered to use the restroom. I do not.

Ask me about when I went back to the bar of that little Italian restaurant with a girlfriend and goal: a mission to meet the mystery man again and charm his attention.

Ask how we arrived unannounced with two bar stools waiting as if reserved faithfully for us. The sound of confidence as we feasted on fresh Italian cuisine and Kettle One Vodka and Sodas with a spritz of lime. How I passed smiles of curiosity and eyes of flirtation with the man behind the bar as guests gathered in the intimate backdrop.

Ask me about the months of courting and captivating conversation, cocktails, Mamma Carmela meatballs dunked in tomato sauce and parmesan, and tossed wild arugula with roasted beets with goat cheese crowned in a citrus vinaigrette.

Ask me how my dad met Renato. How he walked into the restaurant and announced to everyone at the bar, "So, you are dating my daughter?"

Ask me if Renato was embarrassed.

Ask where I told my father we were getting married, and I will share it was at a quiet table for two at the little Italian restaurant in Danville where it all started.

Ask me about the stunning granite Roman and Greek-inspired structure where we married casually on March 15, 2017, at the San Francisco City Hall. How we stood in center stage delivering our vows on the marble floor landing of the famous Grand Staircase, a chandelier and natural light suspended overhead, contained by our closest family and friends.

Ask me about our reception and the generous spread of mouthwatering appetizers made of blessings and bruschetta with fresh basil, mozzarella, and tomato, drizzled in golden olive oil and bite-sized crunchy crusted wood oven-baked pizzas made with love and how we folded together under the stars at the little Italian restaurant in Danville painted in blue disguise and white trim under the shelter of darling yellow awnings where it all began.

Dina is a Walnut Creek resident. In her newsletter, Through the Lens, she writes about yoga, mindfulness, love, loss, and the human experience.

Explore Dina’s coaching services and classes at https://www.dinavarellas.com.