“But it wears out the pasta pots!”
That was the Newtonian-level reasoning behind Olive Garden’s policy of cooking pasta in unsalted water.
I've loved pasta since my first serving of mac and cheese.
My love affair has been on hold for a bit since my path for the past three months has been avoiding sugars and refined carbs and ... well ... macaroni's a refined carb.
Of course, that's not a surprise. Almost 20 years ago Molly O'Neill wrote "Bye-bye, pasta. It's been fun," in The New York Times. As she sadly waved goodbye, she explained that even though a calorie is a calorie, if you are pre-diabetic (which in 2012 meant 86 million Americans age 20 and older), your body handles refined carbs by efficiently processing them into fat for a future famine.
Sixty years is a long time to keep a volunteer organization going, but the Durham Art Guild has prospered; the artist members ply their trade as professionals and the exhibitions provide a platform rarely found in any community, much less one the size of Durham. This year the show of 89 objects by 67 artists is exceptional; there was more work submitted than last year and the gallery looks better than it ever has. Katie Seiz, executive director of the guild and the person responsible for day-to-day operations, deserves a huge round of applause.
Q. I am addicted to ice and eat big cups of it daily at both work and home. I compulsively fill the ice trays when they seem a little low.
In high school, there was a guy named Kenny Brite. He was one of those old geezers that sit around the general store spinning yarns, only in a teenager’s body.
Isabel Chicquor (1943-2011), a highly trained artist, taught studio art for 30 years in N.C. Central University’s art department. This month, the university’s museum is honoring her with an exhibition of her paintings and photographs. The 49 images are part of a recent gift from Chicquor’s family to the NCCU Art Museum. The show includes early drawings in charcoal and pastel; the rest are photographs.
Q. My 11-year-old daughter had terrible breath. The dentist said that it wasn't coming from her teeth and referred us to an ENT (ear, nose and throat doctor).
Take heed my readers, and you shall all know
How to have three steak dinners without too much dough
Oh jeez, I just reread this. Is it really as uber-dopey as it looks? Sorry.
"Sugar and me, we go way back. I love sugar. LOOOOVVVVVE it. I love everything about it: how it makes little occasions special and special occasions fabulous. How it performs hot bubbling magic on sour fruits, like rhubarb and gooseberries, to make the most succulent and mind-blowing pies and jams. And don't even get me started on chocolate."
There is some fascinating art at the Nasher Museum of Art, and the conversations between the works span decades and cross continents. The core of the show is 34 works of art by Robert Rauschenberg (1925-2008) on loan from the Rauschenberg Foundation. Those images have been juxtaposed with Russian art created during the 1980s and 1990s, which are part of the Nasher permanent collection. Added to this mix are 24 works from the newly acquired gift of more than 50 objects by San Franciscan Bruce Conner (1933-2008), photographer, videographer, collage artist and longtime friend of Rauschenberg.
Q. I cut my salt intake many years ago, just for good health. Now I have low sodium in my blood and suffer from low blood pressure and fainting spells.
Over the winter our Anatolian shepherd Riker was fighting a skin allergy. He was put on steroids.
The fall season is the busiest time of the year; school begins, the leaves turn and art in all its forms competes for our attention. This year is no exception. The next months will see art exhibitions of the giants from the golden age Dutch and Flemish artists of the 17th century to those of the 20th. And while modern painting was moving off the walls and out of the frame, a mechanical object called the camera was changing everything we thought we knew about the visible world and we’ll see what that looks like.
Q. Years ago, my mother, who was a nurse, used Vicks VapoRub almost as a cure-all for us children. One hot summer day, my family and friends were out in the yard enjoying themselves while I was in the house suffering silently with a very sore rectum.
My poor mother.
Growing up, I tormented both parents. Criminally lazy, I did my very few chores only after the threat of bodily harm. I took evil delight in pushing my brother’s buttons (most of which I’d installed). I’d try to see how many kids I could drive with in my 1971 Dodge Dart Swinger, Lancelot (the record stands at 11). My religion was “Question Authority.”