I have two very different trains of thought rushing through my noggin' this morning...
As I wrote in my paper journal on the bus, yet another problem with the "publishing" of private thoughts is that generally people expect a "finished" product. Whereas half-baked, half-written, cryptic notes abound in the land of pen and paper.
So I'll only write about the one thing that stuck with me all night long...
I call it "The Great Pasta Breaking of '07".
(This is what happens when I'm left alone too long, obviously. That and the watching of too many random abc.com tv shows...)
So last night, for the first time in, gulp, 13 years (I blame it on living/sharing kitchens with too many people of Italian ancestry) I purposefully BROKE the vermicelli I was cooking up before dumping it in the water. 13 years of being "good" and either "folding" long pieces of pasta into smaller pots, or pulling out the big honkin' pasta-sized soup pot to deal with it. I guess the times really are a changin'.
Okay, far too many apostrophe'd -ing endings, so I'll go.
3 comments:
Oh boy, is breaking the pasta a faux paux? Oops. I do that all the time!
I bet it didn't taste nearly as good that way. :)
I'm Italian on my mom's side. We were even instructed on the proper way to twirl the pasta to get it on the fork. I prefer to use my plate, but some of my relatives twirl their fork in their spoon.
oh yeah, my ex-boyfriend is Sicilian on his dad's side (British on the mom's ... yeah, that particular mix was interesting). I think it may have physically pained him when I broke pasta pre-boil. Or, worse, when he cooked it -- unbroken -- and I cut instead of twirled.
I must admit, I twirl more now. The guilt got to me, I guess.
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