Last week I made a recipe I found on Pinterest, gnocchi with gorgonzola and walnuts. Just the name makes me feel sophisticated from my head to my little fat toes, and I thought that it tasted delicious. Oh so delicious.
However, with the exception of my youngest who obviously inherited my evolved tastebuds, every other person in my household hated it. And when I say hated, I mean HATED it with the loathing and hostility normally reserved for people like baby seal killers and Hitler.
My family are philistines. Obviously.
As my oldest daughter finished choking down her last gnocchi she looked me straight in the eye and warned, “I am never eating this again! Capiche?”
Basically she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Rather than go to the mattresses, I have since retired that recipe from my cooking repertoire forever.
Or possibly just until she moves out.
She said “capiche”? Oh, no she didn’t! Yet I’m sure she did! What an amazing child you are raising!
That’s not Marlon Brando, that’s Papa.
Papa did an amazing Marlon Brando.