SUNDAY MORNING, not by THE VELVET UNDERGROUND

It's Sunday morning, and like all sunday mornings, I am on my bicycle on my way to the market to purchase Pinova apples and Cornice pears and roasted almonds. It is usually a very quiet affair, and I tend to take my groceries and sundry items to the cashier with the Elsa Lanchester tattoo. But today was a little different. First of all, the cashier with the Elsa Lanchester tattoo wasn't there. Secondly, there were two extremely European looking guys from 1972 standing next to their bicycles and sneering at me. And finally, once I got away from the Euro sneering guys, that very nice English man with the little Van Dyke came racing up to me as I passed the Ethnic Gourmet frozen foods. "Did you see what I got for you?" He asked. He seemed very excited. I felt very excited, too, because I love surprises and I love presents and I love Van Dykes, mostly because they aren't as popular and all over the place as those little goatees and it's also nice to be remembered. Unfortunately, what the English man with the little Van Dyke got for me was a frozen concoction that had little bits of fudge and peanuts and waffle cone and whatnot in it. I had actually made a little joke about it some time ago, because I wondered how well waffle cones would survive in a frozen confection when shipped all the way from Vermont in a big truck late at night when the roads are icy. Now when I say 'Vermont' you all probably know exactly what I mean. But I didn't really mean I wanted to find out. I mean, by buying one and eating one. Sure, I like waffles, who doesn't? Well, except for Elsa Lanchester. And my friend Carole who eats that non-wheat weirdo stuff like spelt and kamut, although she probably does like spelt waffles. Which brings me to the subject of Vermont:

What I really wanted today was Putney Pasta Garlic and Herbs Ravioli.

Don't you think that sounds delicious? It really was. It was from their Ravioli line, and their raviolis were sort of like soft, billowy pillows of sea-green deliciousness. They had just the right mix of herbs and garlic–it was so refined and balanced you would think that George Martin had mixed it himself (he didn't; he's pretty deaf now and so he is semi-retired.) Unfortunately, with the loss of Putney Pasta Garlic and Herbs Ravioli (lost, yes, for some reason Mr. Putney of Putney Foods in Putney, Vermont has stopped making them entirely) we, the readers, are left with some very strange, Yellow Submarine-like pasta alternatives. Allow me to list them and explain briefly why each one is completely inedible:

1) CHEESE - tedious. Cheese is not really a word, it is an idea. What do they mean? This is vague, unclear; in short, a very bad essay. You must support your generalizations with specific references to the text. Cheese, indeed.


2) SPINACH AND FETA - please. Everybody knows that nobody likes Feta. At some point though, it became 'cool' to like Feta. Well, it may be 'cool,' but it is not 'de rigueur.' So if you want to be 'de rigueur,' just tell the waitress or chef or even George Martin that you don't like Feta. They will understand. Especially George Martin, who was a revolutionary producer. I think it is time to start an underground movement about this. Somewhere sunny, not Vermont.


3) QUATTRO FORMAGGIO - a fancy and somewhat Italian way of saying 'Four Cheeses' (see #1 for the problems with saying this in English or Italian.) One problem with this, is that there is always, always, always un de la quattro formaggios that taste awful. I am referring of course to Asiago. This if the goofy stuff from Veneto. When it goes towards the frightening 'medio' you have those bad back to high school dreams even while you are still eating and even if you are not sleepy. I don't know how this ever happened to Veneto. Veneto is so nice. Here are some of the things that I like about Veneto:

1) Vivaldi (well, a little)

2) Radicchio (wonderful to eat and to say, crunchy)

3) Grappa

4) The word 'Padua'

5) White Asparagus

No, I am not mentioning 'Asiago.' Oops. I forgot the Dolomites and the 'Bean of Lamon.'


4) BLACK BEAN AND HABENERO: God Save the Queen. 200-300K Scoville units make Habanero the deadliest of the deadly nightshades, unless you count Scotch Bonnet which I never do because it sounds so sweet and friendly and reminds me of those great Bugs Bunny cartoons in Scotland where he plays a very clever series of golf tricks on that dazzling fellow in the traditional kilt attire. My point is: why do you want the tender, billowy pillows of ravioli to do this to you? And again, you noticed I haven't even mentioned 'Black Bean' yet (see: 'Feta.') This recipe would be great without the habanero and black bean and maybe with a little bean of Lamon.


5) BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND MAPLE SYRUP: I saved the best for last, but what can I say? Speaking of God, I stopped believing in God a long time ago, but I imagine if I had not, and I imagine if I had gone to the grocery store later today because I had gotten out of services and had to change out of my coat and tie so that I could ride my bicycle to the grocery store, and if I had discovered this variety of pasta today that I probably wouldn't believe in God anymore even if the sermon had been really first rate. That would be enough to end God for me. Or at least a kind and merciful one. The good news is, if that were to happen, I would be able to get to the grocery store earlier on Sundays, before church let out. Maybe the Elsa Lanchester Tattoo Cashier would still be there–unless she also goes to church. Still, I would face that same problem of having to think about butternut squash and maple syrup.

Let' change the subject for a minute. Here's how Putney Pasta recommends that you eat Butternut Squash and Maple Syrup Ravioli:

HOW TO EAT BUTTERNUT SQUASH AND MAPLE SYRUP RAVIOLI

PLACE: A comfortable cottage with a hot tub and a view of the mountain, an easy ski away from the lifts.

BEVERAGE: Geary's London Porter.

SOUNDTRACK: Jimmy Smith – Home Cookin'




I don't think I can add anything to this.

Please be sure to stop by next week when I discuss Marie Callender's Savory Herb Turkey Pot Pies.

Signed,

Crispy


all artwork, including monsters but not old timey photographs,
® mr. crispy flotilla, 2007