Skip to main content

Signor Felicetti knows we all like a bit of rough

From a packet of Marks & Spencer pasta:

Authentic Italian pasta, made & air dried in the Italian Alps by the Felicetti family, using select Italian wheat & a bronze die for a rough texture that picks up every drop of sauce.

If only I could meet the Felicettis and shake every member of the family firmly by the hand. As the warm Alpine breeze gradually bronzed our faces the same colour as their renowned pasta die (sic), I would congratulate them heartily. Slapping old Alfredo Felicetti on the back and taking another quick sip from my Valpolicella, maybe I'd even propose a toast.

"You have solved one of the biggest culinary challenges ever encountered by man. For years, my enjoyment of pasta has been spoilt by its smooth and uniform texture. At the end of every meal, I would find sauce residue on my plate and ask myself why - with all the expertise and collective wisdom accumulated over generations by the Italian mountain men - has no one thought to produce some truly rough penne that mops up every single drop. You, Signor, and your beloved wife and daughters, have revolutionised pasta production in such a way that meal times will never be the same again. I salute you. And promise you a shelf in the Simply Food store at Marble Arch."

For more food blurb, follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/foodman

Comments

  1. Wow that must be impressive pasta. Do they promise to soak up every single drop of sauce, no matter how much Dolmio I dump on my penne? Like the miracle of the loaves and fishes...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Becoming a Twister board

I spent yesterday evening in an old factory building off Brick Lane playing kids' games with an organisation called Fun Fed. The idea is that a bunch of adults get together and act like children for a couple of hours. We played tag and stuck big coloured discs on ourselves so that we could become human Twister mats. There was an awful lot of running around and I was thinking that I ought to get to aikido a bit more often. Being a child is very hard work.

When one name isn't enough

You may have heard the news reports about the turmoil in Kingston, Jamaica, resulting from the government's attempts to pin down a notorious drug lord on behalf of the US. I was struck by the number of self-styled monikers this guy has given himself. He is, depending on the channel you listen to, known on the street as 'Dudas', 'The Big Man' and 'The President' - worshipped by many impoverished Kingston residents as a benefactor to slum dwellers. It's his real name that seems most appropriate, however. If you were a drug baron called Christopher Coke, wouldn't you leave it at that? It's certainly not a name to be sniffed at.

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...