![]() ![]() I was in the seventh grade and I watched as the waiter wheeled a cart to our table-a cart holding four ingredients: a platter full of piping hot pasta (drained only seconds earlier), a plate of butter, a pitcher of cream, and scads of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. The first time I had “real” Fettuccine Alfredo, however, I was in New York City, which might as well have been the Fettuccine Alfredo capital of the world, it was so darn divine. ![]() Isn’t that just a CRAZY coincidence? Anyway, Alfredo’s wife had morning sickness and couldn’t keep anything down, so he mushed together a bunch of softened butter and grated Parmesan cheese, tossed it in warm pasta, and she ate herself through her entire pregnancy. I remember reading the original recipe, which was made by a man in Rome named Alfredo. This is close to “real” Fettuccine Alfredo, though I think reports vary as to what “real” Fettuccine Alfredo is. One bite pretty much fulfills a 200-pound human’s daily caloric requirements. It’s evil, ridiculous, and an affront to good sense…but look at the bright side: one recipe will feed over 800 people! It’s true. There’s nothing good about it, except for how good it is. ![]() It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I was craving Fettuccine Alfredo like a sonofagun.įettuccine Alfredo. So I decided to make her favorite pasta in the whole world. I made this for my daughter yesterday because she’d requested it for her twelfth birthday back in June and I’d told her “ No! You’ll get nothing and like it!” Then yesterday, three weeks after that dark day, I felt a little bad. ![]()
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