I was trying to start up an old Dell XPS Windows XP computer today - planned to use it for photo/video editing - but then the motherboard committed suicide after about 45 minutes. However, before it's dying scream, I was able to find this old article I once wrote for Yahoo several years ago. You can't find it anymore because they deleted all of the Yahoo Contributor articles.
But, lo and behold, it was still on the old computer (which led me to my back-up drives that also had a copy). So, once again, here is:
MY CULINARY MASTERPIECE
Photo Credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/food-dish-pasta-ravioli-cuisine-5627359/
I'm Italian. I like to eat. I especially like to cook.
I come from a family of cooks, thousands of Macciolis from
Abruzzi. Every single one of us has cooked. But no one has ever had a chance to
make a living at it, including me. Until now.
I'm at the Cooking for Italian American Officeworkers (CIAO)
national headquarters in New York City. They've partnered with The Food Network
to organize a competition for the best Italian cooks in the states. First prize
is a 5-year sponsorship to develop cookbooks and tour the country,
demonstrating Italian cooking skills to the nation.
I entered. I was accepted. I'm here now, waiting in the
wings to be introduced.
The Master of Ceremonies starts the show, playing to the
audience with his stupid Italian jokes. The crowd laughs like they always do,
even the TV cameramen, managing to keep their cameras focused despite their
laughter.
I've been sitting here, watching my competition - the
cannoli maker, the meatball man, the puttanesca expert. Amateurs. Hacks. They
have nothing on me. Just one more and I'm on. Glory bound.
The prosciutto sandwich maker finishes. He exits the stage
to a smattering of applause. The emcee reaches for the microphone. I straighten
my tie and brush back my hair. I make sure my fly is zipped. It's my turn now.
He announces my name and I walk to the stage to warm
applause. I take my place in the make shift stage kitchen.
"Mr. Maccioli, " the emcee shouts, "will be
presenting his interpretation of one of the marvels of Italian cuisine. One of
the greatest dishes of any culinary style. He will show us how to make the
perfect plate of ravioli!"
The crowd cheers. I see a few giving me a standing ovation
in anticipation. My whole life flashes before me as I savor the moment. My
chance has finally arrived. Things will never be the same now.
I approach the microphone. I clear my throat. I take one
last look across the auditorium and then begin to speak.
"First, you get a can-opener. . . "