She wiped the tables as I downed my 3oz hit of murkycaffeine and put the upturned cup on the saucer, pickingup the blue parcel that came with a “...special coffee.”She didn’t need to say anything, but just rang the bellon the counter and held out her hand to me.Her sister noisily strode into the shop from the smallkitchen and rolled her eyes when she saw me taking theoutstretched hand of Alessia. My host licked her lipsseductively and lowered her eyes to the floor as sheguided me. "Hey, sir, what would you like to eat?" she asked me, taking unusual pleasure in her service to this particular patron."Well, I hoped for a nice clam dinner, but I'll settle for the best food in West Virginia," I teased her with a rather deviant gripe."Oh, I wouldn't give up hope for that, just as I haven't quit salivating over the prospect of a unique kind of sausage. But short of that, I recommend the chicken-fried steak. It's an artery-clogging dream come true. The potatoes are hand-cut, by. More

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