M-to-da-A is a terrible co-host; she’ll heedlessly talk over her guests’ solicited anecdotes or answer her own damn question. I’ve seen her interrupt a Rhode Island chief justice, her local butcher and Sara Moulton. I don’t remember how she treated future-adopted-grandfather, Jacques Pepin, but perhaps she too was stunned into silence as he guilelessly garnished a lovely scallop dish with Doritos. Bless.
If you’ve ever seen her show, you’ve seen that A) it’s sponsored by the National Italian American Foundation and B) she guest-hosted an episode with some tall man who’s shown warbling Dino – badly – in a wee clip during the opening credits.
That man is Ken Ciongoli. I do not like that man. Why?
Because fora first generation Italian-American, and the chairman of the NIAF, he is racial toward us Wops. Not once but twice during his episode does he say something to Mary Ann about “you people” – making pasta in X way or sauce in Y way, I can’t recall and it doesn’t matter. “YOU PEOPLE”?? Jesus, are we on Ellis Island circa 1850?
So shenanigans on cadaverous, bowl cut’d Ken, for being such a self-loathing Dago.
And additional shenanigans on them for using no egg wash – not even a daub of water – to seal their agnolotti. No way those didn’t disintegrate instantly in boiling water.
UPDATE: my timing sucks; according to Mme. Esposito’s blog Dr. Ciongoli passed away last week and now I feel a little like an asshole.
In memoriam, I will give this to the deceased doctor: he did run his finger along the inside of each eggshell so as to scoop out every last iota of albumin. Frugality: the hallmark of any Italian-American worth his salt (which he likely had to harvest himself, having been put to work in the mines with a work permit his own father fudged his age on. Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything. Ahem.)
I still say you gotta seal your agnolotti, though. No way that fork-crimping is cutting it.
