Thursday, January 28, 2010

A Craving for Italian

Since I can't figure out what it is I need to satisfy my recent craving, I'm trying various ways to get my Italian fix.

What hasn't worked so far?

A big old Industrial from Coppola's; it's a fine, oily Italian hero with salami, mortadella, capicola, provolone and the rest, but, aside from major onion breath, it wasn't what I was looking for.

Repeating after my musician friend Chris, who's taking an Italian class and teaching me the fundamental phrases ("May I have a glass of red wine, please?").

It might be good to be able to ask for what I need in Italian, after all.

A sausage and onion pizza from Tarrant's only hours after the Industrial, but still not taking away the craving.

Hearing all the amazing details of my friends' upcoming trip to Italy, right down to specific buildings and art they'll be seeing before I do.


Maybe all I need is an Italian guide to steer me to the best ways to satisfy my craving, assuming I can articulate what I'm looking for.

"Some good Italian" probably isn't descriptive enough, especially for a wordy type like me.


  1. I get cravings for Italian, too. Well, I guess I should say I get cravings for my mother's home cookin'.
    The only way I can satisfy a craving for really flavorful sauce is by making it myself. I don't do it very often, because it takes all day. But a couple times a year, I'll make a big pot of sauce and freeze the leftovers. I make it the same way my great-grandmother made it... tomatoes & paste/puree, garlic, fresh basil, pork, slow-cooked meatballs, and a handful of whatever spices I feel like throwing in. During the Great Depression, my great-grandmother couldn't afford meat, so they put hard-boiled eggs in the sauce. That tradition stuck in our family, so I always put an egg or two in there.

    And there you have it.

  2. So you're suggesting I find a man who can cook me some old-school sauce and that'll take care of what I'm needing?

    I like the way you think.