A Revised History pasta
While Marco Polo, a Venusian, generally receives credit for noodles in China, recent research suggests that Italian pasta in all its glamorous varieties was actually discovered earlier in Rome, and almost accidentally discovered. , by a remarkable unlikely epicurean called Julius Amplonius, with the help of an invader barbaris called Klunk, The Great.
The important event took place one afternoon when this portion-patrician ate at a chic restaurant just outside the Roman Forum. He searched for a sip of red wine from Tuscany when a group of people who got angry ran out shouting. The barbarism is coming! The barbaric is coming!
Amplonius had previously seen their arrival, and now he made peace with the old wisdom: Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you shall not eat and eat anymore. It was through such stoism that wise people could testify the destruction of the Roman Empire while preserving a somewhat peaceful life. So, with a knowing smile, Julius exposed his glass to the fleeting crowd.
What are you going to do, Julie, just sit there and eat? a citizen who asked him very well.
Why not? he replied. I am thirsty. Not to mention hunger. With this he surprised him in a different taste of the Tuscan red.
You are crazy! a speedwoman called. Run, Julie! Run!
Just then a waitress who doubled as a requester arrived at Julies lunch, which could be described as a plate of pasta pasta. It consisted of a flat, round piece of dough that hung slightly over the side of the plate. It had a baked tomato in the middle of it, with a piece of parmesan cheese next to it, and both were a wreath of scented basil leaves.
Enjoy your plano, she said, put the dish down, because it is the name of which the proto pasta was known.
Thank you very much, Julius told her and gave her a hug.
Oh, you stupid man, she answered, and watched, was nervous. Can you have a favor, love and close your account now?
No problem, you sex kitten, he said and came for his wallet. He exhausted enough Roman coins to include a yellow mark. Keep the change, he told her and expected his lips.
Thank you, sweetie, she said, and give him a nice but so short kiss. Then she rushed to the other fleeting citizens.
Julius picked up a knife and fork and began to eat his proto pasta.
Just as he cut off and enjoyed his first bite he shot a big barbarian barbarian with a leerskild and fatal sword to help Julius to find pasta in many of the varieties we enjoy today from lasagna after angelhare.
Uh! He founded and raised his sword.
Julius continued to eat. Uh! Uh! The barbaric was raging because the sound of you included many of the daily series of his prototype. To attract the attention of the unforgettable dinner, he swung his sword in a circle and dropped off the head of a statue of the great Augustus. It crashed against the marble floor.
Julius could not help but noticed the deapitation. He put a leaf of basil on his tongue, said. It was not very nice. I like that image.
Of course, the barbarian could not understand a word. In an effort to establish a little good will, at least long enough to allow him to finish his meal, Julius stopped his bottle of wine. Like some vino?
Huh-uh! The barbaric managed to say.
Struggle yourself, Julie told him. Do you have a name?
The barbarian strikes him without understanding.
Name? Julius repeats, pointing to himself and then to the barbarians to illustrate the point of his question.
Klunk, said the barbarian.
I might guess, Julius said.
Klunk, The Great, the barbaric has continued, with some intellectual efforts.
Good for you, Julius told him and stretched out his hand. Im Julius, the Roman, also known as Julie, The Ample. Sit down.
Huh-uh! I’m the victorious victor of Rome! Klunk managed to say.
Good for you! Julie told him, and could not resist asking the most challenging question. Are you sure you can afford maintenance? It is an expensive city to maintain.
What is maintenance? Klunk wanted to know.
You’ll find out, Julius advised him. Come on now. Sit down. You had a hard day. Then he pointed to his dish and showed unwilling willingness to share his food. And enjoy a plano.
Klunk watched the board and asked, what is plano?
You do not know? Julie asked. Where were you?
Klunk managed to get out on the other side of the Alps.
Oh no wonder, Julie answered and decided to educate the deprived soul. See. It’s a plate. Have you ever heard of a board?
Instead of eating off the table, or the ground, you eat from a plate.
Uh, said Klunk, with clear understanding.
Now on the plate we put a flat piece of cooked dough, called plano, continued Julius and lifted the edge with his fork to demonstrate. Then we put all sorts of delights on top. In this case a tomato, a piece of cheese and basil leaves leaves leaves.
Uh huh Klunk acknowledged.
All you do is take a knife and fork, Julius explained and slowly picked up the tools. Klunk will not miss his intentions and send his head to the road of the great Augustuss marble head. Then you cut a piece. He went through the process and took a bite. Oh, good! Sure you will not have any?
Uh-huh, Klunk said, holding his ground and rejoicing, Plano.
Excellent! Exclaimed Julius. You will be a true Roman at a time!
Klunk a Roman? The barbaric responded, visibly insulted and raised his sword high above Julius. Then he unexpectedly put down the sword on the board and cut the plano in half. Now what do you call it? He was somehow able to ask.
Julius looked down at the two half-months and said: I think I call that one big agnolotti. Then he took another sip of wine at Klunk.
In his inability to scare Julius, he raised his sword again and hit the plate three or four times. What do you call it now?
Julius examined it and said, “I call Lasagne. With that he took a bite and enjoyed it.
Now furious, Klunk repeatedly attacked the board and asked: What do you call it now?
Julius, despite his indifference to destiny, was shaken by all the climbers and said, “I will call it linguine.
Needless to say, Klunk swings his sword at the plate with an unprecedented volley battle. What is it now?
Julius examined the mishmash on his plate. By this time the plano was cut into thin strips, the tomato was cut and the cheese was grated. After a bit of deliberation, Julius announced: You made what I would call spaghetti. Still remarkably calm, at least on the outside, Julius took his fork and put some spaghetti in it. Then he took a bite. Delicious! And also fun, he told Klunk.
Terrifying at his seemingly incorruptible true Roman, the barbarians threw the contents of the board right until his arms were a real blur. Then, short of breath, he sighed, tell me what you call it.
Julius looks closely at the haircut in his plate. Now the pasta was as thin as it could imagine, and the tomato sauce, cheese and basil were all mixed together. It’s so thin I think I’ll call it angel hair.
Klunk unexpectedly became curious and bent to Julius. Angel hare For what? You are not an angel. You are fat, Roman.
In light of how fine the plano was cut, Julius could not imagine how long it was possible to invite the attention of the speaker and suggested that his own neck be the next object of barbaric anger. First, the clever Roman, he noticed that his stomach showed a little bit of Klunks’ effort.
Julie was obviously also aware of the legendary weakness of the barbarian shield, unlike the metal shield that was responsible for much of the impossibility of the great Roman falan.
He then pretended to move his knife to the last remaining piece of tomato, saying: No, my friend, I’m not an angel. With that he stabbed the slightly exhausted Klunk, and added, but you are going to become one.
Klunk looks at his sudden deadly wound with shock and falls with a drop on the ground. His head knocked the table and if Julieuss worked so fast, the move would upset his glass of wine.
He leaned back and enjoyed a swallow, he said. I think I’ll call all of the things I discovered after my beautiful girlfriend, Pastina. Then he rolled a bit on his fork and in another mouthful, I just loved Pastina.
All the names that Julius invented, with the undoubted help of the bad barbaric Klunk, has changed over the centuries without changing, except for the categorical term, which will eventually shorten the use of the more famous pasta.