Whoever knew linguini could be something so romantic? I never knew one of my favourite types of pasta has been written about in such a lyrical and romantic way. If some guy wrote a poem like that for me, I’d marry him straight away. :p
\nLinguini<\/b>
\nby Diane Lockward
\nIt was always linguini between us.
\nLinguini with white sauce, or
\nred sauce, sauce with basil snatched from
\nthe garden, oregano rubbed between
\nour palms, a single bay leaf adrift amidst
\nplum tomatoes. Linguini with meatballs,
\nsausage, a side of brascioli. Like lovers
\ntrying positions, we enjoyed it every way
\nwe could-artichokes, mushrooms, little
\nneck clams, mussels, and calamari-linguini
\ntwining and braiding us each to each.
\nLinguini knew of the kisses, the smooches,
\nthe molti baci<\/i>. It was never spaghetti
\nbetween us, not cappellini, nor farfalle,
\nvermicelli, pappardelle, fettucini, perciatelli,
\nor even tagliarini. Linguini we stabbed, pitched,
\nand twirled on forks, spun round and round
\non silver spoons. Long, smooth, and always
\nal dente<\/i>. In dark trattorias, we broke crusty panera,
\ntoasted each other–La dolce vita!<\/i>–and sipped
\nAmarone, wrapped ourselves in linguini,
\nbriskly boiled, lightly oiled, salted, and lavished
\nwith sauce. Bellissimo, paradisio, belle gente<\/i>!
\nLinguini witnessed our slurping, pulling, and
\nsucking, our unraveling and raveling, chins
\nglistening, napkins tucked like bibs in collars,
\nlinguini stuck to lips, hips, and bellies, cheeks
\nflecked with formaggio<\/i>–parmesan, romano,
\nand shaved pecorino–strands of linguini flung
\naround our necks like two fine silk scarves.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Whoever knew linguini could be something so romantic? I never knew one of my favourite types of pasta has been written about in such a lyrical and romantic way. If some guy wrote a poem like that for me, I’d … Continue reading