That sounds amazing.

They had pictures of the chefs on the menus. Not photos -- paintings. And we had our own waiter the whole night through (he ended up getting my number, that's how good he was). The food was breathtaking.

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There's even a table in the kitchen, which, to me, would mean FREE MEAL. It's not a treat to be put in the kitchen, folks. It's punishment.

I've paid $100 to sit at the chef's table (in a different restaurant). It's great.

Amendment: I meant that sitting in Buca di Beppo's kitchen would be punishment. An actual non-agonizing restaurant would be a different thing.

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Buca di Beppo can be a lot of fun with a group of people who all enjoy embracing the cheese factor. I had a great time there (in the Pope Room!) with a group from my church.

Olive Garden's food is okay for what it is (faux Italian), but I refuse to eat there. I have never EVER had good service there and have more often than not had spectacularly bad service. I was even accused of being racist when I complained about my waitress. I don't like her because she brought the wrong thing 3 times, not because she's black. I will never go back.

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I will do anything for skeeball.

The things one learns about Teppy.

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Hm. I'm going to have to try some of these crazy eggful lasagna recipes and see if I like them better than my old standby. My poor friends, forced to eat pan after pan of lasagna. I hope they can forgive me.

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Now I want Italian food and skeeball.

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In many authentic italian versions though, they put in whole hard boiled eggs along with the other fillings. Shudder.

Wow. I've never seen or heard of this before. I know more Italian Americans (including immigrants) than any other ethnic group, I think. I was the one of the few kids that wasn't at least half Italian. I must go on a hunt to find out what region it comes from. I know some Easter baked goods and stuff that get a whole (unbroken) egg in them, but I've never of it with lasagna. Ha.

Okay, seriously people -- regular lasagne noodles do NOT require pre-cooking! There is enough moisture in the lasagne to cook them just fine as is. Really.]

I've had em both ways, plenty of times. I prefer the lasagna made with pre-boiled noodles. I don't cook them for as long as the package says, though.

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Do you have them yet?

...no. I have a spontaneously rebooting fileserver instead, and now I am going to have an aneurysm. So I'd better hit the vending machine for chocolate, stat.

We have much better restaurants, so decide if you want Mexican or Vietnamese or Indian or Sicilian or Japanese or South American.

Now I'm hungry for all of the above, but very thankful Dana did not take me to Buca di Beppo.

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I use eggs in my Spinach Lasgana, I got the recipe from Better Homes and Garden so it's not really authentic.

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Yes -- all this "oh-so-candid" confessional writing gets up my nose.

i've been stewing about this. It's what my book is, pretty much. And I'm an essayist. Okay. I'm a lousy secretary, but I want to be an essayist, like Sedaris and Vowell.

I think I have an ethical line, I ask permission before sending out a story that includes personal details of someone else.

But my work always seems to amount to naval gazing: This is what I did, what I saw, and how I feel about it. It's candid and confessional in nature.

I'm not sure that I have any sort of defense other than that I'm feeling all wounded about it, perhaps immaturely so.

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