Parmigiana Adalah Novels & Stories

I looked at the dishes and they looked and smelled amazing. "What are these?" I asked because I recognized none of the dishes on the table. "This is a prosciutto dolce also called sweet cured ham. This is a mozzarella di bufala also called buffalo mozzarella. This is spaghetti cacio e P**e also called fresh pasta with pecorino Romano cheese and black pepper and this is patate alforno also called roast potatoes" Ethan said in a Roman accent. I knew he had been here before since he took classes on the language.

I murmur, trying to ignore the way my pulse speeds up at his touch. "First tell me more about your favorite food. Say it again?" "Melanzane alla parmigiana. It's basically eggplant Parmesan, but in the traditional recipe, the layers of fried eggplant are alternated with a tomato basil sauce and Parmesan isn't used at all. Pecorino is and it's so delicious." My enthusiasm makes him smile again and it's dazzling. I don't think I've ever seen teeth so white and straight. "That sounds good."

He roared. "I'm fine now Adriano. Can you please tell me the names of these foods? I'm curious about it." "Okay, my dear queen. The names of these food are; Olive Ascolante (Ascoli olives), Sardine in Saor, Tiramisù, Fritto misto piemontese, Fiorentina, Minestrone, Frico, Arrosticini and that one you are eating is called I formaggi." He pointed at my plate.

He chuckled. "When the food calls me, I've got to answer." I shrugged. We stopped in front of a store called Forno Campo de Fiori, which is a place that sold piazza Bianca. It was a type of flatbread made with a lot of olive oil and salt. I glanced at the menu placed on the wooden desk. "Let's get this one," I pointed at the slice with only tomatoes and cheese. He smiles. "Anything you want." Ethan was about to take out his wallet, but I give him a light slap on his hand, insisting that I pay for my own food. He tries to protest against me, but as he notices that I was turning this into a full-on debate, he throws his hands up in defeat.

“Uh. An Italian meal.” Italian, huh. It piqued my interest. I walked towards her and saw what she’s cooking. “What is it called?” “That’s parmesan crusted chicken drumsticks parmigiana.” I snorted, “Parmesan chicken what?” Lily chuckled sweetly, “Parmesan crusted chicken drumsticks parmigiana, dear. It’s the only thing we had in our fridge.” “Really? We should go out and grocery next time.” “Uh-huh. Do you want to eat already? I’ll prepare food for us.” She smiled genuinely.

“Hmm…, what did you order, Cherry?” Alfonso came closer to the dining table. He saw two portions of chicken with tomato sauce and cheese for toppings, served with salad and french fries. “Looking delicious, huh? It’s called chicken parmigiana. The receptionist said it was one of Australian traditional foods,” Siena answered enthusiastically, as if promoting the food. However there was other thing attracted Alfonso’s attention more. “You ordered red wine too?” he asked, pointing at a bottle on the dining table.