Thursday, June 30, 2005

Olivilities Gardententiality

D ietarily speaking, quite a day!  No. of Italian restaurants I ate at/from today: due.  Other than a bowl of Life cereal to kick start things this morning (oh, and one caramel Frappuccino drink this afternoon--the first caffeinated beverage I've enjoyed since May 29), all of my food consumptions, Italian: first at the Olive Garden, then from a place with notable local repute, Pastabilities.  You should know that I didn't have a whole lot of say in either decision, which doesn't really mean anything beyond the alimentary coincidence of fettuccinic proportions.

First came our final class session of the summer term in CCR760.  To cap things off, we gathered at the Olive Garden ristorante on Erie Blvd.  I loaded up on the salad-soup-breadsticks combo.  And we carried on about class stuff after everyone gulped their selections.  All in all, an afternoon well-spent, rounding out a vitally important course abounding with serious and careful attention to genre and writing in academic contexts.  Just one note about the waiter (and I'm not a waiter-complainer usually, fwiw):  by muttering a certain and audible lord's-name-in-vain when I asked him to repeat the soup options, he made it exceedingly clear that he was less than content with something--serving a table full of mostly grad students who would spend the better part of three hours in his section?  I really wanted to know the soup options.  Everyone before me who ordered the same thing I ordered let him get away with the rapidfireindecipherable  blahdieblahminestroneblahdieblah: three soup choices as a single word.  "Minestrone," was the answer from every. other. person. before. me.  Thinking I might not have minestrone, I had to ask.  And when he said (after dropping the whispery J.C.) the last choice was something with sausage and potatoes, I doubled back for option two: the minestrone.  I had the sausage and potatoes selection a long time ago.  For the last time.  I remember distinctly that the sausages were rather like Franco American meatballs who'd wandered their way into my soup, having lost much of their usually savory flavor en route.  Last time.  In the end, the salad and minestrone were quite good; I ate until content; and the class ended on a high note. 

Later when D., Ph., and D.'s sister and nephew from Colorado suggested ordering takeout from Pastablities, I went along with the plan.  I agreeably drove over to Fayette and Franklin.  Parallel parked (so what if nobody was behind me?). Grabbed up the order.  And I'm actually glad I did.  Pastabilities has the absolute best sourdough bread to go with spicy tomato oil for dipping.  That sauce is really what I wanted this weblog entry to be about.  Negative: it's so damn good--dip-my-breadslice, runny-nose tasty--I stuff my poor self.  Overindulge.  But there is something to be said for having Pastabilities after Olive Garden.  And there's also something to be said for blogging this entry instead of accompanying D. and her sister for a long evening walk.  And third, it's an accomplishment unto itself that I don't even have the slightest stomach ache.  Must be something of a soothing quality (spiceopathic remedy?) in the zesty tomato oil.  Or maybe I didn't get enough of it.