aallingh

Authentic Olive Garden Garlic Bread Sticks

The basket of fresh, warm garlic bread sticks, mid-conversation over the construction of racial identity and art in the 21st Century, sat in the middle of a table-for-one around lunchtime at the Olive Garden in Columbus, Ohio.

“I think, Marcello De Laurentiis, that you have said all there is to say. I agree with you wholeheartedly. The young garlic bread sticks must look back to their rustic Italian heritage for inspiration and to the old masters for form.” said Paolo Pappalardo.

“What rustic Italian heritage?” retorted Bradino with a snort.

“Why, from your ancestors, of course.” said Paolo Pappalardo.

“Which ones?” said Bradino.

“The Italian ones!” said Paolo Pappalardo, feeling as though he were speaking to a strip of uncooked dough.

“What about the rest?” said Bradino.

“What rest?” said Marcello De Laurentiis.

“My Mexican, Irish and German ancestors,” Bradino answered honestly. “How can I go back to the ovens of Tuscany when their fingertips have never even graced my buttery crust? I have no personal connection with them at all…”

“I think you’ve missed the point entirely, Bradino.” interrupted Paolo Pappalardo.

“And I,” Giuseppe Farina, who had been brooding in anxiety-ridden immobility, joined in, “think he has hit the nail on the head. Is there really any reason at all that we must continue with this silly charade? I, for one, have no personal connection to Italy, other than in name alone.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean you should develop your own inherited spirit.” beamed Marcello De Laurentiis.

“You don’t have any fucking Tuscan spirit!” said Bradino. “We all come from the same batch. We were first mixed together by Kristin, kneaded by Juan Carlos, formed and first buttered by Friedrich, then twice and thrice buttered and salted by Allison. The only possible Italian-American that touched us was Marco Frazetti, and all he did was put us on the table. Besides, in the outside world, his name is Mark. He only tacked on the “o” to try to get a promotion to lunch hour assistant manager. I’m not Italian,” Bradino continued, “I’m an American and a perfect product of the mixing bowl.”

There was a stunned silence among the oven baked bread sticks. Paolo Pappalardo seemed to harden ever so slightly throughout the onslaught. He looked as though he might throw the first punch.

Suddenly, Giuseppe Farina was lifted with great force as if by the fingertips of the gods. His comrades tried to grab his hands, but to no avail. They watched on as his crisp, flakey feet approached the sharp abyss, munching and chomping at his toes. The blood curdling screams abruptly ended the group discussion, as they watched Giuseppe Farina’s meticulously goldened knees slowly disappear. There was nothing to talk about anymore, the inevitable existence of pain and nothingness swallowed their tongues. Giuseppe Farina’s once enviable neck separated from his head as the last guttural gasp left his bronze lips.

A delicate crumb drifted down towards the onlookers like the last leaf from a wintered tree, landing gracefully on Marcello De Laurentiis’s lap. He looked down to find a mangled index finger, the last remaining testament to Giuseppe Farina’s once promising life. Marcello De Laurentiis kissed it softly and held it in his warm garlicky hands. There was no more argument left in him, his beliefs would not hold up to the dark, unavoidable truth. As he ascended toward his slow, torturous death, he couldn’t help but hope for a quick, head first, guillotine-like decapitation. He squeezed Giuseppe Farina’s garbled index finger, for in the end, though he knew there was no point, he still did not want to lose the last buttery memento of his Tuscan brother.

aallingh

Eggistential Drug PSA

What is a remix or mashup or a scramble? I set out “to make a new meaning/story,” but the “This is your brain on drugs PSA“s story was so detailed that I think I just re-enforced its overall message.

Eggsistential Drug PSA
Don’t do drugs y’all, you’ll make rotten egg puns.
Once again, I originally set out to make a progress update, but then just decided to actually make the thing instead. I think I am now a windows movie maker master.

aallingh

Wine and Cheese Pairing Recipe

What you’ll need:

  • 1 or more Wegmans grocery stores
    1-3 Saturday (or Tuesday or Thursday, sometimes)
    1 car or cheap public transportation alternative.
    1 valid driver’s license proclaiming you are “legal”
    1-1.5 quart empty and eager stomachs!

Preparation


Step 1: Maneuvering
When picking a great wine to taste at Wegmans, make sure you go to the wine and beer section of the store. Head over to the wine tasting table and make sure not to look like that’s the only reason you are there (even if it is).

Step 2: Communication
“Oh, wine tasting? Well, I might as well,” you say.
“Can I see your ID?” Kelly, the wine keeper, says.
“Oh, sure of course.” You wonder to yourself, do I look desperate? Do I look like a college student that hasn’t eaten all day so I can get the most out of these few drips of free wine that I can’t afford.
“Alright, which would you like to try?” she asks.
“Uhm…all of them.” you say, with a look of confusion on your face. You reassure yourself with a nervous laugh. You are in the right place. Remember, you deserve this, you are an adult. This is what adults do.
“Of course,” she says, noticing your sophisticated taste for wine and sense of calm. “We’ll start with a white from blahblah blahbitty blah…” she says as your selective hearing kicks in and you focus on the wine as it sloshes into the small plastic cup.
[editor’s note: make sure to sniff the wine once or twice then tentatively taste and nod.  Finish the rest in a one swig as there will be another tiny plastic cup with another fine wine, this time red. The third will probably be a desert wine, but you’ve got a bit of a buzz already, so it doesn’t really matter.]
Optional: Tell the keeper of the wine that you are actually looking for something a little drier and test your luck on getting another sample.
Cook time: 5 minute power hour (metric)

Step 3: A Cheesy drunk snack


Head over to the cheese area. If they are handing out free samples, be sure to take one. After, approach a different cheese monger and say something like, “Hi, I’m looking for a cheese that would go great with candied walnuts in a spinach salad.” or “Hi, I’m looking to make a grilled cheese, but want something more flavorful than Velveeta in order to impress my future in-laws at their annual grilled cheese cooking contest.” As long as they aren’t busy, the cheese mongers will humor you by letting you try a few cheeses.
[Editor’s note #2: Don’t push your luck with more than three. I’m not sure if they have one of those “do not serve” lists with Polaroids of annoying customers.]
[[Editor’s note #3: If you’d been smart, you would have gone to the cheese first for the free sample, and then the wine, because by the time you get back over to the cheese, the likelihood of them changing the free sample guard is very high.]]
[[[Editor’s note #4: Though, I can understand if you keep the recipe as-is seeing as how wine is more effective on an empty stomach.]]]
Cook time: 5-15 minutes (Standard American)

Bon Appétit

aallingh

Google Recipe Search

The google recipe secret ingredient is… Children!

This is a screen shot:

here is a page link

It’s subtle, yet supple.

Who searches for children recipes on google recipes? Well, it was actually the first thing I typed in (I guess I was curious what would come up?). Don’t psychoanalyze me. You’ll just get a lot of defensive sarcasm.

prep time: 2 1/2 hours
cook time: (google) instant
let cool 5 minutes (edges will be hot!)

(firebug fun tip: if you are typing in new code and it reverts back once you click off of it ((like it did with me maybe 15 times)), make sure you move your cursor over some other tags and it highlights in yellow. It will make firebug catch up to you, and you’ll get it right the first time.)