If the dough ends in jar

by Monday, May 31, 2010

Last Friday, Orio al Serio airport, Bergamo. The plane of my boyfriend is late and so I am walking back and forth looking for anything that might distract me and pass the time. There are two girls, each with a dog on a leash, also waiting for someone coming in from who knows where. I smile to dogs and I go over in my doodles, then I do behind front and I see a scene from the movie crazy, type “Tutti pazzi per Mary” or whatnot: the two girls were waiting for their boyfriends that, arrived, kneel and for no less than five minutes they make the holidays from your dog. The girls look at them with air-resigned: the two fiancés shall rise up, will give a hasty kiss girls and will head towards airport exit. I couldn't believe it: more coaxing the dog that his girlfriend, even for me that I go crazy for animals is acceptable… Look at them while they move away and I will continue in my loiter. After a while’ I thirst. Looking for the nearest Cafe and ordered a tonic water. While I'm there that expect me to serve, I escape the eye on this thing that I never thought to see: the PastaCup. A jar signed Barilla, containing pens with six different sauces. Price:, 6 euro. I ask the gods to waitress: «Warms in the microwave and the jar, that heat is, keeps hot for half an hour. AND’ very good, you want to try? Goes with the hostess…». And on this I agree, but it is very good, I do not know.

Certain, I have a dilemma: better the PastaCup or one of the usual fast food like a BigMac, a sandwich, a piadina at lunchtime? Or, at the cinema, better a PastaCup or a basket of popcorn? Perhaps best pasta, Although in the jar… But it's stronger than me, the pasta in the pot can't even pronounce, let alone to eat it. Why then not a cold pasta or rice salad? Much better, no?

"I'm sorry, then you want to try?», It tells me the maid who had remained there impaled in front of me while I reflected on what.

«No, Thank you, I have no hunger, It was just curiosity», the answer trying not to be leaked that rather than, like any fast food restaurant, I suffered a little’ of hunger, that would make me bad. Though I pull out the phone and, without giving into the eye, I take a photo (what you see above) to share it with you.

AND’ a matter of taste. I prefer steaming pasta, al dente, homemade if possible, and with the sauce made with tomatoes, Basil and chilli in my vegetable garden. And if it is not, rather, I'd rather help. Excuse me Mr Barilla.


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