Italian from a Scottish perspective - Gola

How times change.  When I was younger I once put off joining a local football team for four months because of my football boots.  Golas just weren't cool.  Rather than risk social humiliation, I waited until Christmas.  Santa eventually came with a pair of Adidas boots and I was able to devote my Sunday afternoons in exotically windswept locations like Arbroath losing football matches (normally in double figures) safe in the knowledge that my social credentials were firmly in tact.

Of course, with hindsight, it was stupid to wait for four months.  I mean the boots were terrible, my best friend regulary took the piss because somehow they became shinier when exposed to mud,

Angry Butterflies For Two Please...

Ever wondered why a "prosciutto focaccia" costs almost twice as much as a ham sandwich when they're essentially the same thing?  I'll tell you...because it's Italian!

How angry is your butterfly?

This has nothing to do with Berlusconi giving the Italian economy an inflationary bunga bunga, but more the style and sophistication associated with the Italians and their cuisine.  I mean something like "fagioli stufati e tostato" sounds a lot better than beans on toast and, as with the focaccia, would probably be twice the price of it's English-named counterpart.

But what we English monoglots fail to pick up on is that Italian food is as descriptive as it is delicious.  Order some farfalle pasta for example and you'd be asking for a plate of butterflies.  Would you like your butterflies in a crushed, angry or charcoal burned style?  Strange in English but perfectly acceptable as pesto, arrabiata or carbonara.

Sleeping Indians...

Grabbing some Z's

Have you ever been on a bus or train in Asia and wondered how the hell everyone managed to fall asleep so quickly?  It doesn't seem to matter whether they're Malay or Mongolian, Asian people will generally drift off before the bus gets to 4th gear. 

And how do they effortlessly manage to keep their dignity intact?  Anytime I fall asleep on public transport involves a generous amount of drooling, a nasal symphony and occasional, seemingly electrically induced, jolts into consciousness.  Yet you rarely see Sri Lankans slobbering on themselves or Chinese chewing their own cheeks during travel naps.

What Your Books Say About You...

...mine say I have a doberman puppy...