Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The real shame of this story is that I am at that stage in my career where the default gift at the holidays is wine. Everyone gets me wine, or wine books, or wine openers, or a fountain pen. That's nice. I like wine. And I like to drink wine. Which is why I spend so much of my disposable income on wine that I never seem to have the dollars or the foresight together to enact the purchase of simple household items like colanders. Up until fairly recently, this didn't present much of a problem. When I was little, my parents had a colander. I used their colander. When I was in college, my roommate had a colander. I used his colander. But now, not only do I not have a colander, but no one ever thinks to gift me one. Wine, wine, wine. After all, this site is not called "so you want to drain some pasta?" is it?? But to be truthful for a second, there are times when my neglect of the aspects in my life not directly relating to wine tends to become quite bothersome. And it is unfortunate that my friends, all winos really, are of little help with this predicament. I spend all my money on wine, and then they gift me more wine.
I feel genuine sorrow when I see those little curlicues of perfectly cooked durum wheat flesh fall into the ragged ratatouille hell that is my drain pipe, which is what just happened, and which is what happens every time I try to splash the water out of the pot all freestyle -like, without the use of a colander. Special, delicious, bronze die cut, extraordinary specimens of pasta: gone now. To pull them out of my drain would be unthinkable, and also heinous. Really. I know the last time my sink was cleaned, and it wasn't 2011. So really I could use a colander, but I could also use some Seventh Generation Kitchen Cleaner Spray On.
Anyway, my birthday is on January 19th (Go Caps!). If you happen to remember this next year, I can't tell you how happy I would be to receive a little something for around the house, and I don't mean a Eurocave or a decanter funnel.
Thanks for listening.