ETC: In Your Face, Charles Atkins

First, a shout out to the anonymous librarian who posted to tell me that libraries actually like it when they make money from your late fines. It inspired me to go and return my books with my head held high:

"My name is Doppelganger, and I'm a (re)tardy book returner. There, I said it."

While I near completion of my current Challenge book, might I distract you with a recommendation for the mother of all pasta cookbooks, The Pasta Bible? I know that being pro-carbs is all the reactionary rage these days, but trust me when I tell you that the whole Atkins craze was one bandwagon I never hopped on. A life without fresh bread and pasta is not worth living... especially when your only payoff for this self-denial is the acquisition of scary Demi Moore-esque razor-blade hipbones. But I digress.

My best friend The Fabulous Suzi and my housemate The Don conspired to give me a pasta machine and a copy of The Pasta Bible for Christmas, and I just about peed my pants in excitement. (For the record, when you're knocked up, almost peeing your pants in excitement isn't that uncommon and perhaps doesn't even merit mentioning.)

People, let me tell you that pasta machines, while intimidating looking, are dead easy to use. If you ever had a Play-Doh Fun Factory (TM), then you're already more than halfway to pasta machine expert status. Unless you were one of those kids who always fucked up their Play-Doh by letting it dry out or mixing all the colours together in indiscriminate lumps. I don't know what to tell you people, other than letting you know that, when I was a kid, playing with you drove me nuts. I didn't even want to, but my mom made me. Also, stick with buying pasta in a bag.

(Apropos of nothing, did you know there's a Play-Doh George Foreman Grill? And a Play-Doh McDonald's? When did the End Times begin? I can't wait till they come out with the Play-Doh Big Brother Interrogation Kit.)

What's your reward for going to all the trouble of making fresh pasta when you could just as easily buy the stuff in stores? First, even the "fresh" pasta sold in stores is crap. And second, home-made pasta is the best fucking pasta you'll ever eat. Don't believe me? How about a testimonial from my friend the Baco-Vegetarian, who said after recently eating my pasta:

"That's the best fucking pasta I've ever eaten."