43. Riso alla Cacciatora

Once, when I was a young man, a horse dealer and I set out on what was in those days a long trip to a fair in Rovigo. On the evening of the second day, a Saturday, after many hours of long travel with a horse which, under the very able hands of my companion, made short work of the road, we arrived, hungry and tired, at Polesella. Naturally, our first attentions were for our valiant animal. Then