Mangia Italiano

A few weeks ago, my bible study girlfriends and I went to see the Cooking with the Calamari Sisters: Mangia Italiano at the Downstairs Cabaret Theatre. It's a Wayne's World-esque, public access cable show, featuring two sisters (i.e., men in drag) who cook for the audience and sing everything from Doris Day to Devo. They even bring audience members on stage (including an Italian American dude actually named Carmelo: nice pick) and incorporate them into the act. As such, there's quite a lot of improv which was, at times, even better than some of the scripted materials. Definitely a fun night out. Rated R for racy.

Last night, thanks to a fabulous Christmas gift from my mom to the hubby, he and I went to an Italian Easter Dinner cooking class at Cibi Deliziozi, a converted church, where the food was prepared by a proper chef, Rosita. (Aside:  that name launches my brain into elementary school Spanish class, "Rosita, este es mi amigo Ramon." "Mucho gusto." "El gusto es mio.") Unlike the Calamari Sisters, this event was rated E for everyone; however, akin to Calamari Sisters, there was audience participation -- mainly between the chef and the in-season, locally grown, pesticide free, gluten free, non-stop chattering, free-range, organic foodie in the audience. Initially, I declined a glass of wine but after over an hour of said foodie yapping about what farms were bringing what produce to a location nearest you, or how to ensure your organic greens weren't coming from a gray market like China (and a serious, two-second, vertical nap from which I quickly recovered after being tapped on the shoulder, and shocked back to life, by the hubby), I caved. Yes. Merlot. Please.

Shortly thereafter, the older woman seated next to me turned her entire body toward me and moaned, "Please make her stop." And thus began the banter that turned a seemingly endless night into a lot of fun.

Rosita was a bit flighty but sweet and charming nonetheless and the food, in particular the salad with lemon pesto dressing and prosciutto, was yummy (technical term). I'm not a big fan of lamb (or salads!) but it was well prepared and delicious. Apparently lambkins was also young which presumably made it tender and less gamy. Ignorance is best: I prefer not to know the innocent age of my freshly mauled dinner.

Every time Rosita prepared a new dish, or picked up a new ingredient, she prefaced her comments with what she's doing (e.g., leaving the chunky vegetable droppings in the gravy for flavor) vs. what an top chef would do (e.g., strain it for aesthetics). And, each time, the hubby would quietly interject, "But for you slackers" or "But for you tourists" just to make us laugh.

In short, an interesting night out (thanks mom!) but I don't see a Throwdown with Bobby Flay happening anytime soon.