Sunday, March 22, 2015

Carbohydrate hangovers and a lot of love
Well, I have to say that the love and time stirring my special puttanesca sauce which I make 72 hours in advance, according to my late, great Brooklyn landlord Mr. Scicchitano's instructions and the roughly zillion hours remaking the fallen house cake (see previous post) were all worth it. This morning I feel like I went a few rounds in the ring with an intoxicated Tina Cipollari, but that's the price you pay for making eleven toasts/brindisi in less than eleven minuti.
Tina, you are so wrong on so many levels. And yet, occasionally, you are a beacon of truth.

No one left even one strand of bucatini on their plates. I'm just sayin' . . .

Congratulations, Francesca & Fabio!

 If I understood correctly, we spent the evening discussing modern art, what it is like doing an apprenticeship at Gucci (including their off the hook cafeteria and how difficult it is to turn pythons and crocodiles into purses), the crazy things that happen in an Italian emergency room from the point of view of a young nurse, and a million stories about animals that live in Tuscany, mostly small bird and rabbits, and how to lovingly care for them when they are first born followed by how to eat them. I kid you not.

It is also possible that we spoke about 3D printing of body parts and the pros and cons of wife swapping, but my Italian is getting ever better and I think that we avoided those topics altogether.

By the end of the night several people almost had concussions from their weary but well fed and happy heads hitting the table with great force so they taught us the expression s'ha a di' danda which means time to go home to bed.

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