A Tear for the Torn Duvet

Alison came by last week and watched Tampopo with me on Sunday night. I quickly tidied up the flat, forgetting to remove photos of my ex, and during which time my freshly laundered duvet cover that had faithfully served me for 13 years and had witnessed the antics of 2 girlfriends decided to give up the ghost. I was dressing the duvet when I noticed a tear. The tear grew and grew as I fitted the duvet. It almost never met Alison, but on its deathbed, she came to visit and reassure it. Later, we went to bed and every time we tried to move beneath the duvet, a great ripping sound could be heard. Alison was slowly killing the duvet, happily. It was a nice deep purple number with counterwoven lengthwise stripes. It was from Portugal and it cost a student a lot of money back then. I went out the next day after work and bought a new duvet cover, this time in a light blue-greyish colour, but with counterwoven stripes, and a new pillow just because. I went by Alison's workplace and picked up a ficelle and some Gjetost cheese, a little surprise for Ali. I was also surprised, at how hungry she was after work. She came back and we watched Tampopo again because she had fallen asleep the first time and couldn't really understand the film anyway. I craved noodles for days afterward.

Wednesday evening, I made my special noodle recipe, a variation of a recipe Sissy had given me, but she'll deny it. My recipe has four ingredients: pasta (spaghetti or buccatini is preferred), onion, olive oil, salt (as you like), and parmesan or romano cheese (optional). I made enough for two rationally sized portions, ate one and saved the other for Alison. She was working that night and I had a feeling that she would skip her break and go without food. I was on eggshells - was the pasta al dente? Did I caramelize the onions sufficiently? Was the dream of Chez Dax finally coming true? One bite, and I knew. It was perfect. Ali's face said it all. She asked where I learned to cook so well, and I told her it was because she was eating with my magic fork. It makes everything taste good. She only ate a few bites and took the rest home with her.

It wasn't enough. Thursday after class I toyed with the idea of going to Orange Peel's restaurant for Thai, but Alison was busy so I couldn't justify making the trip by myself. A new discovery that one can turn left onto Main St. when exiting the viaduct helped me decide where to go next. I went to a pasta place in a really dodgy part of town that unfortunately is too famous for its own good. I lucked out and caught it on a quiet night. It's really known for its pizza, but the pasta is good too. You have to really like pasta and want it bad enough to dodge the crack heads and car thieves to get to this place. I always thought it was relatively unknown until I went there last. It was packed and we had to wait for a half hour to get a cramped table. On Thursday it was quiet, but I have to say that I'd never been around so many lesbians since Lilith Fair. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I ordered spaghetti with mushrooms in a cream sauce, and was a little disappointed. I'm used to mushrooms in oil, and I guess the cream softened the taste. Baby was getting scared even though she was in plain sight of the window, so I ate my noodles as fast as I could and left.

Friday night, I went out for noodles again. This time, Alison and I went to Zefferelli's. It's a little hard to find only because it's not on street level and it's entrance is sort of hidden by the polyeurethane-enveloped patio of a second rather loud and obnoxious restaurant. At Zeff's, you're always guaranteed a good meal. After buying some new trendy, foot-torturing shoes, we went upstairs. The exposed wooden floors tell you right away that you're home. We didn't have a reservation, so it was a little bit of a problem. In the end, there was no wait and we got a nice corner table near the window. The waitress rattled off about twenty different items and I knew that Alison wouldn't be able to understand so I tried my best to remember everything. I did it, my elephant brain never forgets food. We skipped the daily items and started with a Cesar salad, a pale ale for me and a Capri for Alison. She was drunk halfway through her cocktail, likely due to a lack of food consumption, and then we moved on to the main course. Ali had penne Alfredo with broccoli and I had buccatini with sausage and mushrooms. Buccatini is my new favourite noodle. We only ate half and took the rest per domani. I walked Alison home, the two of us trying to stay dry under one umbrella. She did a good job to stay close. Eeeeee! I shlepped the food containers from Wednesday night, my Starbucks travel mug, my leftovers, some soy-flavoured baka crackers, and my new shoes home in the freezing rain, all the while trying to wrangle an umbrella. The only thing that pulled me through was Copacabana, Junior Murvin, Outkast and Feist among others on my iPod. I narrowly avoided an ugly incident with a woman and a baby stroller who felt that she was entitled to the entire, very spacious sidewalk in front of Tony Roma's but instead she forced me onto the street and into oncoming traffic, causing me to tip my brolly and soak her accidentally...

My hair is looking very unruly these days, so I dropped off some drycleaning and went for a cut and a wax today. I don't remember the sting being so harsh before. Trey was in a hurry I guess. He does a good job, so I tried my best not to scream. I bumped into a coworker from the last appointment yesterday. The new Layer Cake fan. He told me that he can't get a copy anywhere, but that people keep telling him its a great film. I'd like to think that perhaps I had something to do with that, but I probably don't. It really is a great film.