This just in: I might have to eat my words
(in addition to suffering self-inflicted, groan-inducing puns):
Since our return from The Boot, Trevor and I have been preparing ourselves for bad pasta and clueless baristas. Can't say much for the latter, but the former was addressed in exceptional form last night at Trevor's colleague Barbara's house!
Barbara hosted a dinner welcoming Trevor back to the trenches of Intel "This is sooo not Turin" Research. Now, we had a huge bonus in that Barbara's mother is staying with them right now. When I arrived at the house, the kitchen counter was covered in what they told me was gnocchi, although these were bigger than anything I saw all throughout Italy! Well, it turns out there was a plum inside each one, it was unbelievably scrumptious. She made a sweet-ish sauce that was cinnamon-y and nutmeg-y that went over it, and we ate them right up.
There were quite a few people there besides Trevor and myself (mostly from his work, of course), but Barbara also invited a friend of her who is a Sociologist, and many years ago lived in Turin! In very Berkeley (also Eugene) form, she brought this big bowl of quinoa (an "alternative" grain, if you will), and was trying to be all humble next to Nonna's plum cinnamon gnocchi heaven, but they were both so lovely that I drove home with a perma-smile on my face.
