Last night we went to Giovanni's, the only Italian restaurant in town. It was the monthly social activity of our Sunday School class, but there were only about 10 of us. The bread there is magnificent--homemade-- and I am told that the pizzas' crusts are homemade, too. I had Shrimp Fra Diablo, and it was spicier than I expected (wonderful). Everyone told the host, an older man who we thought might be the owner, how much we enjoyed things. Then as we were getting up to leave, the chef came out and said that he had ordered cheesecake for us so we should not leave. He brought out regular cheesecake and chocolate cheesecake for us to share--and it was free. He sat down and talked to us. He was the son of the older man, and he was the actual owner. He said that he had moved to Texas with about 60 of his family, originally from Albania. "Albania," we exclaimed! He told us that most Italian chefs in New York were really Albanians. Well, whatever, he certainly does a great job. I am glad that th