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Food Rules and Other Nonsense


Apparently, I’m a food snob. I don’t know when that happened. Actually, I’m lying. I do.


You see, I’m Italian. I grew up with a mom who cooked meals from scratch, and grandparents, too. My dad was banished to the Breakfast Items corner, and that was fine by me — his French Toast are awesome. And his potatoes and eggs? The food of the gods.

As an Italian-American, I cook a lot of pasta. If I ever have to give up carbs, I’ll cease to exist. Between that, coffee, and sarcasm — there isn’t a whole lot else going on. But I digress.

I have a couple of Food Rules.

  1. You can never have too much food. I am incapable of making a small amount, so I hope you enjoy leftovers.
  2. There’s no such thing as too much pasta.
  3. Cookies should resemble pancakes in their size.
  4. Please, please don’t ever cook me sauce. Unless I know that you can cook, it hurts my soul.
  5. In that same vein, I won’t eat sauce out of a jar. I did it once, out of respect for a friend (who didn’t hear me when I said, “Anything but PASTA.”). It ate away a piece of my soul. I can never get that little corner back.
  6. I can never have too many recipes. The Pioneer Woman is my latest addiction, even though I’ve tweaked every recipe as I make them. That site makes me unbelievably happy. And hungry.
  7. Eggs do not belong in meatballs. I’ll repeat that: EGGS. DO NOT. BELONG. IN MEATBALLS. Neither does any kind of bullion.
  8. Do not add chopped veggies to your meatballs, either. That’s not a meatball, people. I don’t even eat meatballs, but I do make them. Please. I beg you. Get your veggies elsewhere.
  9. Pasta sauce is called pasta sauce. Not gravy. Gravy is what goes on the Thanksgiving turkey.
  10. Noodles and pasta are quite different. They are not interchangeable.
  11. If you come into my house, I will feed you. This is non-negotiable.

This isn’t a complete list. I think I’ll be talking a little more about cooking, sometimes. It’s a great hobby. If all I did was cook all day, I’d be the happiest person ever. I also might gain fifty pounds, but whatever.

Categories: Uncategorized
  1. March 23, 2011 at 12:04 pm

    I grew up in Argentina, on a farm no less, so I completely sympathize. I like to think that people like us aren’t food snobs–we just know what food should be like, and it’s hard to lower our standards when we developed such high ones early on.

    I just have to add: tomatoes and water do not make pasta sauce, people–there’s more to it!

    Oh and using the words pasta and noodles interchangeably–so aggravating…

    Reading this made me happy. ๐Ÿ™‚

    • Ali
      March 23, 2011 at 8:44 pm

      I grew up on a farm, too! Except, we had horses, not crops. A garden, though. ๐Ÿ™‚

      I totally like your explanation. We have standards. *grin*

      Ugh, tomatoes + water definitely don’t equal sauce. That kind of thing makes me want to cry.

      Thank you so much for your comment! ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. March 23, 2011 at 9:49 pm

    Amen! You know, Russians, Ukrainians, Poles and Italians HAVE to be related – all these rules applied at both my grandmother’s houses. Except they weren’t nice enough to ever document them, so you were bound to screw up from time to time – with much wrath following.

    • Ali
      March 23, 2011 at 9:52 pm

      Ha! A lot of my recipes aren’t written down. I can tell you what goes in them, but not the quantity. It’s all done by look, which can be tricky. ๐Ÿ™‚

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