The Macaroni Dialogues

Here's an example of how screwy bookselling can be: The other evening I was at work when a woman came up to the sales counter and asked if she could exchange a copy of the Joy of Cooking that she'd bought recently (our return policy: The book can be returned for store credit or exchange within thirty days (That's a very liberal return policy for a small retail store, so put a sock in it to all you people telling me that Borders gives cash back on returns!)

Where was I? Oh yeah..."Sure," I said, since it had been within the aforementioned very liberal thirty days return window.

"I want to make macaroni and cheese, and with this book you constantly have to flip back and forth between the sauce page and the pasta page."

"Ah," I said, "That's true. One thing you could do is get the Joy of Cooking with the comb binding which makes it easier to flip back and forth."

"But that's not what I'm saying!" She shouted in my face. "I want to know how to cook macaroni!"

"The macaroni?"

"The macaroni! How do I cook it?"

"Well, you don't really need the book for that. You can just read the instructions on the package. It takes ten minutes or less. Now the sauce, the book can be helpful for..."

"I'm talking about the macaroni," she cut in, "How do I know which kind to get?"

"I just wouldn't get the super cheap brands. They tend to fall apart. Just about any cut pasta works with a cheese sauce."

"I've never cooked macaroni before."

This went on for ten minutes, I kid you not. She finally left with a Mark Bittman cookbook that basically said, "Boil water, drop in macaroni, cook for 8-10 minutes. The customer left the store happy.

While we're on a pasta theme, I'm reading an amusing crime novel called "A Meal to Die For" by Joseph Cannascoli, better known as Vito, the outed gay gangster from the Sopranos. I was intrigued to learn that a few years ago Cannascoli, in an effort to give his character more visibility, suggested to the writers that they reveal his character to be gay. At some point they took up his idea and came up with the most riveting story line in Season Six (Part One). In one of the scenes Season Six, Vito is chopping onions in a very swift, professional fashion. Either he rehearsed for that (to show Vito's domestic side?) or he was once a cook. In fact, Cannascoli was once a chef/restraunteur, and now he and a co-writer have, uh, cooked up this novel about a Mafia cook who's making an elaborate ten-course meal for some Family bigwigs. It seems likely that one of the dinner attendees, or the protagonist himself, might get whacked after dessert, so it's truly a final supper for someone. It's not great literature, but it's one of the more entertaining products on the groaning Sopranos bookshelves. Also, the book includes recipes for the menu that the chef is serving for someone's last meal.

About the Gilmore Girls--I've put seven years into the show, so I'm gonna ride it until the end--even though I feel like hurling my shoe at the TV at least once an episode (as I literally did this week). The best scene of the season, maybe of several seasons: Luke and Christopher's no dialogue fist fight in the middle of Stars Hollow's Christmas display in the town square in the middle of the night. Luke landed more punches, but nothing got solved. Kind of a metaphor for the plot lines of the past two seasons, and possibly the Golden State Warriors over the past decade plus.