The world's biggest caper

Being too lazy too cook, but not too lazy to go to Marro (Marronier in Collonge-Bellerive) for lunch, I walked to the next village through the late, lush summer country side. The trees and grapevines are all ladened with fruit.

Manager Antonio gave me his usual warm greeting.

My starter had what I think could compete for the world's biggest caper. I  enjoyed two bites not the usual one. The rabbit was falling-off-the-bone tender. The chef told me the rice had coriander, mint, ginger and several other herbs and spices explaining why it was so luscious.

As always, when I go to a restaurant alone, I had a book with me, but that doesn't stop me from observing the activity.

An Italian grandmother and grandson were at the table in front of me. The chef chatted with her in Italian and when the little boy's pizza arrived it had two extra pieces, rabbit ears and there were two olive eyes.

Then as the grandmother was paying the bill, the little boy dived under the table. The waitress, Cecile, whom I've not seen before, automatically put her hand on the corner of the table so he wouldn't hit his head when he emerged.

Love that restaurant because treatment is so personal, not just for those that are there often, but for the new customers as well.

On the walk back, I took a different route. There are just enough fallen leaves to perfume the air with the spirit of autumn.

I'm so, so happy.