Tuesday, August 22, 2006

postal scrotum: Sperwer on ravioli

[NB: Email has been edited for privacy's sake.]


I just read your ravioli write-up. Lots of pleasant memories – particularly of helping my grandmother make ravioli from scratch in her big kitchen in the old family house. Damn, now I’m hungry. Time for a chunk of parmesan. For a big boy, you're still in the minor leagues when it comes to scarfing down blocks of the stuff. I put it away in pieces 10 times that size, and have a debit account at Wood & Brick to prove it. Must be the Italian genes.



For what it's worth-- I ate the entire wedge that very evening (technically, morning), all in one sitting, after first allowing a few hours to pass: had to digest that maginficent ravioli dinner. Every Parma-bite was goooood.

Maybe we should have a Parmesan-eating contest... nah, scratch that. The point is to appreciate the cheese. We each do that in our own way, I guess.

Just imagine how the Swiss stare in horror at how I consume Gruyère.


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