THE HANDS OF THE MOB IN THE MOUTH OF AUCKLAND
I always promised my mother I was going to school. I had the best intentions. I would get ready to go, get my bag and my books. But things didn't always turned out the way I'd promised. I would go downstairs and meet friends - and that's where things would sometimes take a different turn.
On occasions, we would walk a different way to avoid the usual route to school. And there was a place where I would find myself nearly everyday. It was where we would have breakfast and lunch, and sometimes stop for afternoon snacks.
In the morning, the aroma of coffee would mingle with the scent of fresh pastries and, later in the day, with pizza, panini, tramezzini, and the odd plate of pasta.
This place was my local bar, where my father would buy me a drink on Sundays and I had to climb the bar stools, that then seemed high as mountains. My friends and I referred to this place as our COVO, our meeting place, our safe heaven, our living room. Luciano, the bar owner, was our mentor, our friend, defender and critic. We felt safe there, cared for, part of a family, of a clan, of a circle of friends that was inseparable.
***Ivan***
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Ivan and his team went out of their way to make our function a success. Ivan suggested a choice of set menus to ensure our meals came out in a timely manner and the front of house staff did a fantastic job of keeping us happy. The set menu was very good value and the food was excellent. I would happily recommend Covo and I look forward to dining there again.