A little Rome story:
On the subject of food. Mama and papa are what you might call buone forchette, which actually means you’re a gourmand, which means sort of a pig about food, but they are not gourmands, they are just people who really like food and mama has cooked since she was born practically. I can just see her—a little day-old baby shaking her rattle at the nurses and asking for a bowl and some nice tomatoes and bread to stir up pappa al pomodoro for her lunch.
Last night for example they had some special visitors, one of whom is mama’s good friend from that place where cats eat fish and chips, lucky kitties, and mama went all out with osso buco, risotto alla milanese, and a chocolate thing that oozes out a dark elixir of goodness when you fork it and which I cannot have but can smell, and so I do, and there were these really cute guys with the friend, one of whom talked all night but everyone was glad because he’s one of those people who can talk about anything and does and makes everyone delighted at the same time, but then you just take a little cat nap and let him wind down and then he can start up again and make everyone laugh and know things they didn’t know before, at least not in quite the same way. And his partner was equally wonderful and mama said they complement one another perfectly.
So these two guys ring the bell and the tall, loquacious (that means talks a lot, like me) one (see, I do my homework) sees mama in the doorway and says later, after having polished off two bowls of osso buco, barely leaving the bones (for me to lick), ‘oh, my god, when you greeted us at the door I said, oh, boy, it’s soy burgers and spinach cassrole for dinner—this woman eats NOTHING’, but of course, his tables were turned, so to speak and he had his cake and ate it, so to speak with great pleasure. And of course, mama eats three meals a day but has her mama’s what’s called ‘catabolism’ which means you run around all the time and don’t put on weight easily, unlike me, but mama can put away a fair amount of just about anything when she’s hungry and does. I’ve seen it.
But mark my words, those cute guys will be back, but it won’t be for more veal, it’ll be to meet me!
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