Eight naked pumpkin raviolis, in a plastic tupperware, aggravated by jail-cell lighting.
Let me just clarify that I ADORE pumpkin ravioli (when prepared swimming in sage and brown butter and sprinkled with amaretti biscotti and parmesan) as much as I adore the quintessential Thanksgiving dinner: thick slabs of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. I also adore a robust dinner table with laughter and loudness and a high people-i-love to m2 ratio.
Unfortunately, my very sad Thanksgiving encompassed three very thin slices of prepackaged cold-cut turkey from the Pam, said bare pumpkin raviolis, and a date with my esthetician who kindly pointed out that "i tuoi baffetti sono cresciuti" (my mustache was bigger than ever).
I've pretty much spent the last month zipping in and out of Tuscany, splashing in Chianti, eating fried white bread, white pasta, white pasta with fried white bread, pane dei santi, etc. Indulgent behavior regretfully comes with a price, which is just to say I am currently ingrassata (fatter) and on a diet, hence my sobriety on a day I ought be consuming 6000 calories in a single sitting. The fun has officially run dry.
But as a matter of lightheartedness, on the same day, Giulio came home bearing an opportunity for novel experience:
the influenza vaccine!
weeeee!
So instead of probing a turkey rectum, I got to administer my very first injection, and I did awesome. He didn't scream, I didn't inject into a vessel, and two days later he's still alive, not to mention practically FLU FREE.
I am envisaging Thanksgiving this year the prequel to Natale as Giulio will be fulfilling his humanitarian efforts in the hospital on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I was thinking of fulfilling mine by dressing up as naughty santa and smoking a cigarette on the sofa.
Anyhow, I hope you had a decadent holiday weekend, unraveling from your normal hectic lives while engulfed by the ones you love, and that you also got a little chubbier.
Buon Ringraziamento!
1 comment:
One time my mom and I found ourselves at Denny's on Thanksgiving evening. I am not sure what is worse: Your 8 pumpkin raviolis (In Italy!) or, my the club sandwich I had that night.
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