Friday, August 13, 2010

Spaghetti of the Evening.


Friday is Improv Friday at Said Panties. On Facebook, X and J take a poll of their friends for a topic (any topic) to write on. The most popular, ridiculous, or random is selected, and both X and J must write about it. This week's topic, Puttanesca, comes from Michael Lahr.

I was not aware that "puttanesca" had any affiliation with the Oldest Profession until my research for this post. I've never had pasta puttanesca, mainly because the main ingredients are tomatoes, olives, and anchovies, three of my greatest culinary enemies.

Yes, I hate tomatoes. This differs from mere dislike. I actually hate them. I'm not normally a hateful person, but on the short list of things I truly loathe, it's basically 1) genocide, 2) most country music, 3) tomatoes, and 4) all of my exes. It's like the old song goes: "You say tomato / I excuse myself to the restroom to purge."

I can't even watch someone else eat a tomato. I have to look away. Friends, you may have noticed my lack of eye contact while you're scarfing down that bruschetta. This is not because I'm distracted, it's because I'm trying not to throw up. If you're ever having dinner with me, take my word for it, do not order the caprise salad.

Just don't.

As legend has it, "pasta puttanesca" is named as such because it is quick and easy to prepare, like most call girls who are any good at their jobs. The ingredients are supposedly what a cheap trashy woman would have just lying around and could throw together quickly, I guess if a client was willing to throw in an extra twenty bucks for a candlelit dinner. If you ask me, though, this is one well-stocked prostitute. Maybe all Italians have tomatoes, capers, anchovies, garlic, olives, and chili peppers on their person at all times. This wouldn't surprise me.

But if you came into my home unexpectedly and asked me to whip up "whatever's handy," you'd be having ice, ketchup, Starbucks Via instant coffee, and Seagram's 7 whiskey over linguine. Buon appetito! Pasta alla X. So let's be real. If this pasta was really made out of whatever a whore had "just lying around," the ingredients would be used condoms, chlamydia, and herself. "Whore sauce?" That makes it sound like...well...let's just say I know a few people who would eat farfalle covered with such a thing. But only a few.

On that note, I'll leave you with the videos I ran across in my research. The first is your typical "baby eating something yucky," which pretty much sums up my thoughts on puttanesca, too.

And this one has to be seen to be understood. Who has this much time on his hands? Lame!

Eat up, whores!


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