Luigi was a craftsman in the old county. He had a complaint, however. He built his own house - but did his fellow paisanos call him Luigi the carpenter? No, they did not.
He made his own boat, but did they call him Luigi the boat builder? No, they did not.
He made his own shoes - but did they call him Luigi the shoemaker? No, they did not.
You had to be cagey, I charmed my way into the kitchen by being ever helpful and polite and they taught me how to make my fav dishes.
I had to go to 6:00 AM Mass a lot to get into her good graces, but I still make Mrs. Pescarmona's pignoli cookies and pumpkin agnolotti with sage butter sauce.
Oh it worked later in life too.
Back in the late 70's the SU & I were weekend house guests at the same time as Yvonne DeCarlo...she offered to cook the hosts her infamous egg plant parm and I eagerly volunteered to served as her scullery maid and dog's body. We had a great afternoon listening to Italian pop music, smoking a bit of herb, and sipping gin martinis. With a teensy bit of prodding she regaled me with tales of La Dolce Vita while the sauce cooked and I chopped and prepped. The Ali Khan ate Caesar salad off her torso during a late night dinner party in Capri. She was one hot Mama even in her 60's she could make men squirm.
I hate Sarah Jessica Parker, Robin Williams, Tim Robbins, Susan Saradon, the BJ Hunnicut guy, brussel sprouts, the Boston Red Sox, commies and well, lawyers.
7 comments:
My best friend growing up was Dona Mia Scarvaci, they were Sicilian, her mother fed us garlic noodles after school.
Luigi was a craftsman in the old county. He had a complaint, however. He built his own house - but did his fellow paisanos call him Luigi the carpenter? No, they did not.
He made his own boat, but did they call him Luigi the boat builder? No, they did not.
He made his own shoes - but did they call him Luigi the shoemaker? No, they did not.
But he fucks just one pig, and...
I would go home and ask my German mother to try to make them, begged her to call Mrs Scarvaci for the recipe.
O_o
Yeah, like that was going to happen. ;^)
You had to be cagey, I charmed my way into the kitchen by being ever helpful and polite and they taught me how to make my fav dishes.
I had to go to 6:00 AM Mass a lot to get into her good graces, but I still make Mrs. Pescarmona's pignoli cookies and pumpkin agnolotti with sage butter sauce.
Oh it worked later in life too.
Back in the late 70's the SU & I were weekend house guests at the same time as Yvonne DeCarlo...she offered to cook the hosts her infamous egg plant parm and I eagerly volunteered to served as her scullery maid and dog's body. We had a great afternoon listening to Italian pop music, smoking a bit of herb, and sipping gin martinis. With a teensy bit of prodding she regaled me with tales of La Dolce Vita while the sauce cooked and I chopped and prepped. The Ali Khan ate Caesar salad off her torso during a late night dinner party in Capri. She was one hot Mama even in her 60's she could make men squirm.
She was wicked funny too.
True story.
Heh. I told that joke to a bunch of Russians once. They loved it.
I hope you used a strong fake-Italian accent - that adds panache, don't you know...
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