my sister-in-law gave me a copy of Giada di Laurentiis' "Everyday Italian" for christmas, because she so enjoys it herself and wanted to share the love. what the SIL didn't know is that i totally hate this food network sweetheart - really don't care for at all. she tries to be cute, she's awfully peppy, and i just want to wipe the smile off her face with my backhand. the boy and i agree that she has no passion. she will pretend like hell that she does by grinning hugely and oohing and ahhing over chocolate, but if i have to hear her talk with her mouth full one more time, i shall scream.
having said that, i do watch her show. not religiously, but because at 4:30 in the afternoon when i'm winding down from work, it's the only thing worthwhile on tv. and one could argue that i could not turn the tv on, that i could do yoga, or go for a walk, or pour myself a glass of wine, or i dunno, go scrub the kitchen floor... but sometimes, after sitting here for hours, a bit of mindless tv dribble is what one needs at 4:30 in the afternoon. so sometimes i watch her and i am amazed at how she's able to keep her big ass bobblehead upright.
having said that, she has made a couple of things that sounded worthwhile. and also some that were not so great; in fact, really bad in idea. like taking store-bought breadsticks and wrapping them in prosciutto. wtf? what a good waste of ham. i'm down with breadsticks and i'm down with prosciutto (in fact, very much in love with prosciutto), but wrapped around bread? that sounds like something i'd concoct at 2 am after coming home from the bars when i lived in savannah and needed to get some food down to soak up all the booze. i mean, that's not a recipe. that's not FOOD. that shows NO PASSION. come on, woman.
so anyway, when the SIL gave me the book, i was all like, "oh!.... great!... thanks!" and before i could cut my eyes at the boy to shut the hell up, he let loose a torrent of hatred towards the bobblehead. i didnt want to be rude to my SIL, who loves the bobblehead so much and wanted to share her love, but he is more of a cut and dry person.
my usual nighttime reading is comprised mainly of cookbooks (last night's reading was from Marcella Cucina by Marcella Hazan, a fabulous book i got from the library), so that night as i lay back on my 14 bajillion pillows in bed, i picked up the book and cracked it open. i was kind of irritated to read mario batali's gushing intro about how he basically wish he'd met her earlier in his life because he's so in love with her. that part made me gag. i have much respect for mario; now, THAT man has passion. i just dont get why he is under the impression that bobblehead is full of passion. just dont get it. after a bit more reading, i will admit that there are a couple of recipes i will try, one of them being this balsamic roasted chicken that, according to my SIL, is the best thing ever. we'll see. i'm actually looking forward to trying it.
i think what it all boils down to is that i dont respect the bobblehead because Di Laurentiis is not really her name. it's a family name, that of her maternal grandfather (the producer or director or whatever it is that he did with those B movies). it's her mother's maiden name. and i'm irritated that instead of resting on her own laurels, she climbed her way to Food Stardom by riding her grandfather's coattails and using his name. . i don't know, i know a lot of actors do that (use a family name) but it still irritates me all the same. also, she's married yet doesnt wear a wedding ring. perhaps i'm old fashioned (nothing wrong with that), but if you're going to go through all the trouble of courtship and marriage, you might as well have a symbol of it with you at all times. not to show potential suitors that you're not available, but as a sign of respect for your partner.
i guess i'm old fashioned after all.