Above: salad from Pasta & Co: the edible calm before the storm
Below: portrait of a belly-bomb: Lasagne verde is actually red!
Some of my music-related acquaintances were yukking it up on the subject of the new Battle-Of-The-Washed-Up-Bands-From-The-80â€™s show. Well, Iâ€™m always on the lookout for a) edible food cooked by somebody else and b) mindless pop culture action I can discuss with the aforementioned acqaintances without having to blame the patriarchy too much, so I tuned in while getting outside this frozen lasagne from Pasta & Co.
My relationship with the has-been pop star show lasted 93 seconds. I regret to say that the Flock Of Seagulls guy had left his hearing aid in the dressing room. The resulting sour discharge, combined with the revolting spectacle of him waving his frumpy bald-guy ponytail at the freakishly giant English spokesmodel dude, drove me to switch off the TV and pick up a gripping article from the Texas ag extension office entitled â€œReseeding Rangeland.â€
I wish I could say that the lasagne revived my flagging spirits, but the bitter and ironical truth is that Pasta & Co, a tiny noodlery in one of those tumbledown cottages on Kerbey Lane, sells terrible pasta. I am in a unique position to comment on this unfortunate situtation. Why? During the epic calamity that was my recent kitchen remodel, my kind but gourmetically-challenged sister, either because she did not wish to see me starve before she could wangle a few more babysitting hours out of me, or because she had mistaken me, as people often do, for a hungry Israelite wandering in the wilderness, often force-fed me Pasta & Co lasagne verde. I became intimate with its many inadequacies.
It is possible to survive even repeated encounters with this belly-bomb if one eats only the burnt cheese scraped off the top. However I cannot advise ingesting the noodles, which are greenish and affect the heavy, mucilaginous consistency of Play-Doh but lack the flavor of same. The sauce is tomato paste straight out of the can. Livestock bedding alle pomodoro pretty much sums it up. So when your sister brings a bag of this over, stick to the salad, which is pretty good.
You know, some scholars have described the gift of manna–â€œa strange, unpopular foodâ€– to the wandering Jews not as a kindness, but as a trial.