Overlooking the East River, it was a warmly lit room, with rows of burbling tanks inhabited by octopuses, whose mysterious signals they hoped to decode.
Soon the lamb is rotating on its skewer, chicken is sizzling on the grill and falafel burbling in the deep-fryer (the cart is a symphony of efficient design, without an inch of wasted space).
I didn't want to go back to my silent little room, with Ilaria's news program burbling down the corridor, its ghostly echoes of Sam, and the temptation to check my e-mail every fifteen minutes.