A recent AARP Bulletin, in its “Brain Aerobics” column, asks this question: “Food made from flour, water and sometimes eggs, which is mixed, kneaded and formed into various shapes and boiled prior to consumption.”
Answer choices include:
1. donut
2 pasta
3 cake.
Of course, the correct answer is 2 pasta.
We know pasta and have our own favorites - spaghetti, mac and cheese, fetticini alfredo, ravioli, lasagna - the list is long.
My sister-in-law introduced a new version of macaroni and cheese to our annual Thanksgiving Dinner. It was the hit of the party.
But, pasta serves in more ways than as the base for a popular dish.
A Georgia Tech professor begins his construction class, by charging his young engineer majors to form groups and then for each group to construct a bridge of pasta and glue. He gives a prize in each class for the bridge that can support the most pennies and another prize for the one with the best aesthetics, two major considerations in the construction of any structure. You should hear the tales about creative construction. It seems that the young engineers often end up with a lot of crunchy pasta underfoot and even more glue on themselves.
Of course, kindergarten teachers are the most creative when it comes to this household foodstuff. They show children how to decorate small cardboard boxes and picture frames made from tongue depressors with dried macaroni pasted to the artwork and then sprinkled wholeheartedly with glitter, lots of glitter. All kinds of pasta works - seashells, small elbows, large zita. Take your pick.
Bob’s sister, who lives in California, sent me a copy of one of her favorite books. We’re Just Like You, Only Prettier: Confessions of a Tarnished Southern Belle by Celia Rivenbark, weekly columnist for the Myrtle Beach Sun News. Living in a state noted for the glitz and glamour of Tinseltown, my-sister-in-law, born and bred in Georgia, wistfully walks down memory lane whenever she encounters all things Southern.
I was particularly touched by one column: “Mother’s Day Memories: Make Mine Macaroni.” In this reflection, Rivenbark remembers the second gift she ever made for her mother. Taking a heavy duty paper plate dutifully sprayed silver by a responsible adult, the child glued glittered macaroni all around the edge of the plate. Each child in her class, then using pipe cleaners, hung a bunch of dime store grapes in the center of the plate. “It was a vision.” quips Rivenbark. “And it is a testimony to my mother that work of art hung on our living room wall long after I finished high school, the elbows carefully dusted each week.”
Then on a more solemn note, the author reflects on her four-year-old daughter’s enthusiasm for two weeks as she rushed off to a friend’s house to make a special Mother’s Day gift. The author’s child had been so excited that she could hardly sleep at night. Then the author recounts all of the special macaroni glitter that her daughter had already made for her.
But there is a kicker. As her child has eagerly and in secret makes a special gift for her, Rivenbark has hurried to the store to purchase standard mother’s day gifts for her own mother and mother-in-law. “It pains me that I ended up putting so little thought into their gifts. Grab it. Get it wrapped. Get it mailed. Mark it off the list. Will they like their gifts? Of course. Will they be so moved that their throats close up a little when they see what’s inside this box wrapped by some other woman’s daughter at the store’s customer service counter. Probably not. I resolve to do better next time, to recapture some of the macaroni magic, if just for old time’s sake.”
What a lesson for all of us at this gift giving time of year. When shopping for loved ones becomes a chore, then it’s lost all semblance of the Christmas spirit. In choosing just the right present, both recipient and giver should relive the magic of macaroni.
2007
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