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About Palermo

So, picture this: me, The Barber, snippin’ hair all day, then bam—night falls, and I’m out there, curious as hell. Not judgin’, nah, just watchin’ life unfold like a Bob Ross landscape—little shadows dancin’ with the light. You roll up to some sketchy corner, neon buzzin’, and there she is—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s got that vibe, y’know, like Adèle’s lover, all fierce and fragile at once. “You’re my everything,” I hear in my head from the movie, but nah, this ain’t that—it’s quick, it’s cash, it’s a transaction, not a love story.

Pastitsio (Greek Lasagna)

So, I head over there, and wow! The pasta is to die for. I’m practically in heaven. I’m slurping it up, and the owner comes over. He’s this jolly guy, all smiles. He says, “You like? It’s made with love!” I’m like, “Dude, I can taste the love!”

​Regional dish: Varied rules mean uneven pain for US eateries​