La Dolce Vita Series: Pasta

Photo courtesy 4umagazine.net.

Pasta!  Who doesn’t love pasta?  From spaghetti to vermicelli, from penne to farfalle, or from lasagne to linguine … the pasta possibilities and varieties are almost endless.  To most people, pasta is synonymous with Italian food.  If Italian food is being served, then you can just about expect to see at least one pasta dish on the table.  Italy is known the world over for its simple and (oh so) delicious pasta dishes.  Italian food, especially pasta dishes, has always been my favorite type of cuisine.  It’s such a comforting food.  Living in Italy, we eat pasta all the time, and prepare it at home quite often.  I simply love it!

I recently learned there is a whole day dedicated to pasta.  It is known as World Pasta Day, and is celebrated each year on October 25th.  Care to take a guess where the day originated?  Yep, no other place than Rome, Italy!  It was established on October 25, 1995, by the World Pasta Congress.  (Who knew there was such a thing?)  The focus of the day is to promote pasta and its benefits when incorporated into a healthy diet.  

In honor of World Pasta Day, I would like to leave you with a poem about a delicious type of pasta … linguine.  Enjoy!  

 

LINGUINI

by Diane Lockward

 

It was always linguini between us. 

Linguini with white sauce, or 

red sauce, sauce with basil snatched from 

the garden, oregano rubbed between

our palms, a single bay leaf adrift amidst

plum tomatoes. Linguini with meatballs,

sausage, a side of brascioli. Like lovers

trying positions, we enjoyed it every way

we could-artichokes, mushrooms, little

neck clams, mussels, and calamari-linguini

twining and braiding us each to each. 

Linguini knew of the kisses, the smooches, 

the molti baci. It was never spaghetti

between us, not cappellini, nor farfalle, 

vermicelli, pappardelle, fettucini, perciatelli,

or even tagliarini. Linguini we stabbed, pitched, 

and twirled on forks, spun round and round

on silver spoons. Long, smooth, and always

al dente. In dark trattorias, we broke crusty panera,

toasted each other—La dolce vita!—and sipped

Amarone, wrapped ourselves in linguini, 

briskly boiled, lightly oiled, salted, and lavished

with sauce. Bellissimo, paradisio, belle gente!

Linguini witnessed our slurping, pulling, and 

sucking, our unraveling and raveling, chins

glistening, napkins tucked like bibs in collars, 

linguini stuck to lips, hips, and bellies, cheeks

flecked with formaggio—parmesan, romano,

and shaved pecorino—strands of linguini flung

around our necks like two fine silk scarves. 

“Linguini” by Diane Lockward, from What Feeds Us. © Wind Publications, 2006.

If you enjoyed this poem, and it left you hungry for more, you can check out the book What Feeds Usfor additional poems by Diane Lockward.