"But I longed for that second-grade feeling of eating meals as a family. Eventually, I found it at La Famiglia Giorgio’s in Boston’s North End. I was a sophomore in high school, wandering around Little Italy in search of “real Italian” food before a school trip to Italy and for a place to read Weetzie Bat unbothered. I stumbled into La Famiglia Giorgio’s and ordered the pesto alfredo with chicken, broccoli, and homemade fettuccine. Instantly I was hooked. The garlicky cream sauce was like nothing I’d had before, and the chicken was massive, larger than the size of my hand. It was the first restaurant where servers were genuinely kind to me and treated me like a paying customer rather than an inconvenience. The staff let me be, and I sat there for hours, peeling back the pages of my book and trying to tackle the massive dairy-doused cutlets and pile of pasta. It soon became my ritual. Here is where I’d happily spend my after-school job paychecks, where I’d bring friends and secret girl crushes. The dining room of La Famiglia became my own." - ByCleopatra Zuli
