Dear Kharma, WTF???? After 5 days without sleep, I was really looking forward to getting more than 40 winks in tonight. Instead, Miss Sophia needed some attention and we ended up ioki karaoke'ing Lady Gaga songs until 11ish (we only stopped because I started falling asleep while singing and she was getting annoyed with me). And really - I'm okay with that. I can deal with getting to bed later than sooner. But it is now 4 AM and I've been up with a teething child and indigestion (mine, not hers) for more than an hour! There are 3 other adults in the house - all of them sawing logs like they are outlawing sleep tomorrow. (Really, Max did wake up for a few minutes, but only to disagree with me about Viv being awake due to teething - I'm going to put it down to him being half asleep (lucky him, half is better than nothing) and the fact that his nipples are not teeming with pain from just being treated like a chew toy). I would so wake his ass up, just for that stupid comment and make him take care of her, but I can't sleep from indigestion and thirst anyways! The Nonni are great and I'm glad (and really very appreciative) that they are here, I wouldn't have been able to take the course without their help - that said, the Nonna is over the moon that she gets to cook for us. Unfortunately, now we've unleashed a monster, because now she feels comfortable cooking in our kitchen. That might be okay, but she's not that great of a cook, I mean she was at one time I'm sure, but she her taste buds are gone by now. Tonight for dinner she made some pasta with a sausage tomato sauce. Sounds good right?
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| The Nonna has used more oil in 1 week, than we use in 1 month! (I had half a bottle at the begining of the week, they bought this one because the other one ran out). |
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Too bad it looked like a red version of one of those ocean lamps (you know the ones made of oil and blue water- when you tip it back and forth it makes waves-like the ones in my stomach right now) and it had more garlic than sausage (the latter ingredient, in itself not being easily digestible) and she accidentally added too much salt (and let me just say, the margin between 'too much' and 'just right' was VAST-(hmmmm, I think I see an English lesson in there - when I get to the chapter about teaching 'too much' I'll just bring in some of this sauce)).
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(The Nonni are gone, so won't hurt anyone's feelings. I shot this picture as visual proof)
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To make up for the over saltiness, when she cooked the pasta she didn't add salt (Italians salt the water and to give the pasta itself more flavor) and that might have done the trick...but once again, proportions were misjudged (actually I doubt it, but I'm just trying to be nice-I'm sure the Nonno complained when he ate the same sauce at lunch time. Otherwise, the Nonna would never have noticed) and I ended up eating 4 sad little penne pastas swimming around in a cesspool of red colored oil and hunks of heavily seasoned ground up carcass. What I am trying to say, is that there was too little pasta to make up for the saltiness of the sauce. Yeah, I know I could have just said that the first time and not have been so snide, but I am tired and suffering from indigestion, remember??? Don't judge me! That was not the drop that broke the vase (the Italian version of the straw that broke the camels back) - I gracious ate my four little pastas and with each bite, I was thankful I was nearing the finish. I should say, aside from the saltiness, the taste wasn't too bad, but I could see the oil and taste the garlic and since I was tired and wanted to go to bed immediately after dinner, I really didn't want something so heavy inside my stomach). Just has I lifted my heavy hand holding the last forkful of pasta to my mouth and finished the last bite- the Nonna proudly asked if I wanted some more. Stifling something between a groan and laughter, I once again mustered up all the graciousness I could and declined. We've all seen Italian parents on TV, always worried that the kids aren't eating enough. The next step was the song and dance we do, the Nonni went down the list of other things I could eat. Did I want some cheese? More bread? Perhaps some prosciutto? The Nonno asked me if I wanted the last half of a sad, over boiled and grey piece of fennel, lying in a shallow pool of it's own watery juices. Again, I nicely said, 'no grazie,' I just wanted to be done and go to bed. Just as the words came floating out of my mouth, I hear a PLOP and look up to see the Nonna finishing the motion of serving me the last of the sauce that was left in the pot and saying, she was sorry she hadn't cooked enough and anyways, there was too little of the sauce left, not to be finished. F*******CK ME! Now what the hell do I do? I tried to hold back the tears of tiredness, as I did not want to add any more salt to the sauce and did the only thing I could think of doing: I picked up my fork and grabbed the sad grey fennel (which btw, is the Italian version of lima beans or Brussels sprouts, kids here hate it. It's not like the fennel served in the States, it's larger and has across between a licorice and celery taste, but nearly as strong. It's not my favorite, but usually I don't mind it.) and ate it with the damn sauce, praying that it would help drown out at least some of the saltiness. And here I am, 5 hours later, suffering indigestion and an insatiable thirst. It feels like there is a war between the Italian food and my American stomach...guess who is losing. It's getting harder to write with Vivienne squiggling in my arms. I think she is tired enough I am going to go and try and dump her back in her bed. If she ends up crying, I swear I am just going to lie in bed feigning sleep, turn up my iPod and not so gently kick Max until he wakes up and goes to get her. But, I'm sure that will never happen, this crap only happens on my watch for some reason. Curse you Kharma, curse you!
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| Time warp: it's now saturday and i've had time to clean up a little. I found out that they left us with 3 boxes of pasta-so it's not as if there was no pasta in the house, I have no idea why the Nonna only cooked such a small portion. |
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