Why are professional Italians so bitchy to other professional Italians in this town? Who holds the copyright on broken English and why so twitchy aren’t there enough white fedoras to go around? Whenever I run into another rooster cacciatore who earns a crustini peddling Italian caricatura the room seems to shrink I’m reminded of those lizards who don’t blink with fluttering frill big fan culos spreading the yard Puffed-Up-R-Us: my card strutting male chefs really give me the shits everyone of them hijacking grandma’s recipe bits grandma: who was the consummate amateur serving up the grandest food jour après jour…