More Italian Food Porn

Eat Some Moré

When in Venice, you should try
Some of their pizza pie.

Eat some moré.

In my word you can trust.
Try the thin, crispy crust.

Eat some moré.



Menus come.
Yumma-yumma-yum
Yumma-yumma-yum.
Eat it up, that’s my motto .

Pour some wine.
Diney-diney-dine.
Diney-diney-dine.
Let’s get some gelato.
 


If you wanna drool,

Order pasta fazool.

Eat some moré
Every place, every street
Has great things you can eat,
Food you’ll love.

When they bring out some cheese, 

You’ll say, bring out more please, signoré

‘Scusami, but you see,

Where’s my ravioli?
Eat some moré.



Here in Venice, you should try
Even more pizza pie.

Eat some moré.
Eat some moré.


Tell the waiter, you’re ready
For another plate of spaghetti.
Eat some moré.


Eat some moré.



Desserts come.
Yumma-yumma-yum.
Yumma-yumma-yum.
And you’ll yell, “Holey moley”
What are you looking for?
Gimme-gimme-more.
Gimme-gimme-more.
Fresh cannoli!

Hungry fella.



If you’re still hungry, boss,
Order pasta with sauce.
Eat some moré (Eat some moré)

Enjoy all that you want

In your favorite restaurant,
That you love.

When they bring out some cheese,

You say, bring out more please, signoré.

‘Scusami, but you see,
Where’s my ravioli?
Eat some moré.

Postcards from Venice

Nearly Sunk in Venice

The moment I stepped outside the train station and viewed the Grand Canal in Venice, one thought ran through my mind: “Why the hell did I lug these heavy golf clubs over here?”

Seriously, Venice is a one-of-a-kind spot. I was going to waste a bunch of time describing it, but instead I think I’ll just include a link to this trippin’ virtual tour.

As we were riding on the water bus to our stop, we realized that our directions to the hotel were… ummm… a little less than specific. As a matter of fact, there was nothing after, “Get off the water bus at such-and-such stop.”

We got off the boat and saw the most impressive churchal structure I think I’ve ever seen. We slipped inside and I fired up my iPad, thinking we could use its GPSishness to locate our destination. Only the battery was on about 1% because I had been watching an entire season of Storage Wars on the train ride over.

So we start wandering the “streets” of Venice, lugging heavy bags down creepy alleyways that I’d never even consider walking down if I were in any other city on earth. After about forty minutes of wandering, Mary  ducks into another hotel and asks for help.

Five minutes later, we’re at our hotel without being mugged, spending 500 euros or dropping a suitcase into the water.

This vacation’s looking up!

The Pickpocket Incident

They warn you about pickpockets on the subway in Milan, but how can you know they mean you?

We’re bumping about, standing room only, in the subway on the way to the train station and a young pregnant girl is parked behind my wife Mary.

We’re still in a travelers daze, trying to figure out which stop will land us at the train station. Next thing I know, Mary is stooping to pick up her wallet, which the girl has dropped trying to ease it out of her backpack. She slinks back, away from us, and takes a seat on the subway. If she feels any remorse or shame, it doesn't show in her eyes. It’s just another day at the office for her, I suppose.

Mary buries her wallet and phone deeper in the pack and starts wearing it front-ways. I move my own wallet to my front pocket after briefly considering shoving it down in my underwear.

We’re both a little shaken by the near-disaster, and I continuously feel a little panicked when I can't immediately put my hands on my wallet. As if traveling in a foreign country isn't stressful enough...

At the train station, we purchase tickets to Venice at a self-service kiosk, but the machine won’t take my credit card or chip-and-pin card for some reason, so I wind up having to feed it most of my remaining euros. A day and a half in and we're already more over budget than a Lord of the Rings movie.

The kiosk allowed us to pick the seats we wanted, but somehow we’ve managed to put
ourselves a dozen rows apart for the 3-hour train trip. I settle in and hold my wallet with
both hands.

Next stop: Venice.

Italian Food Porn

What I Learned From Staring at The Last Supper

WWJE? (What Would Jesus Eat?) There’s a professor at Cornell who has done some interesting research about the link between food and religion. One of his discoveries was that the portion size of the food--as well as the size of the plates--has increased over the years in depictions of the Last Supper. It’s true; the plate size over the years (from 1000 to 2000) has increased by 66% and serving sizes have increased accordingly.

No I’m Not Going Around!
I also learned that convenience trumps artistic integrity. A portion of the lower part of the work (including Jesus’ legs) were cut away to make room for a doorway. I thought it was just because Leonardo couldn’t paint feet…

Oh Snap!
I also learned that the more important the art, the less likely that they’re going to let you take a picture of it.

Okay, So What About The Next-To-The-Last Supper?
I also learned that if you want to see The Last Supper, you better get your tickets months in advance like my wife Mary did.

Features of a 7-Star Hotel

 So, Mary and I are on a tour bus in Milan, and the guide is pointing out attractions on our way to view “The Last Supper.”

One of the attractions she points out is … I kid you not… a seven-star hotel.

I can’t even concentrate on the other attractions that the lady is jabbering about because my mind is racing on what the features of a 7-star hotel must be…

• Every time you enter hotel lobby, they release 100 snow-white doves

• Hot and cold running art

• Walk-in mini-bar

• 1,000,000-thread-count sheets

• Mirror in bathroom makes you look 20 pounds lighter

• Instead of bidet, bathroom features trained chimpanzee who wipes your behind with moistened cashmere towelette

• Complimentary helicopter shuttle to airport

• Beautiful Asian lady stops by your room nightly to floss your teeth

• Chinchilla towels

• Continent breakfast

• Button that makes entire floor rotate until you get view you like

• Closet filled with live chickens in case you feel like a fresh egg or some fried chicken

• Turn-down service includes Morgan Freeman stopping by to read you bedtime story of your choosing

• TV features HBO and CineMax

You Are Here?

 Chalk it up to travel-madness.

Mary and I get the really helpful dude at our hotel front desk to draw us a map to direct us on the 5-minute walk to where we're supposed to meet our tour that includes viewing “The Last Supper.”

After wandering around for 20 minutes or so, we make our way back to our hotel and get the really helpful dude to explain it one more time, while shaking his head and rolling his eyes. I wish his English was terrible so I can blame our terrible ability to follow simple directions on him, but he speaks my native tongue better than I do.

We wander around again for another 25 minutes, and now we’re in serious jeopardy of missing our tour bus. We’ve been walking up and down the same block over and over, and the addresses seem to make no sense at all. Plus, there’s not a street sign to be seen anywhere.

We finally flag down another tour operator, who directs us around the corner to a place WITH A GIANT FREAKIN’ SIGN that we walked past SIX OR SEVEN TIMES.

With only moments to spare before we get left behind, we hop on the tour bus and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Phew,” I say. “Otherwise, we’d have had to go see “The Next-to-Last Supper.”

Postcards from Milan