17 December, 2010

Pumpkin and spinach gnocci

So the pasta looked good in the glass. I deined to part with some of my hard earned cash to try a medium sized container. $6.50 . Was it worth it? Did the university cafe live up to its low standards?

I tried the creamy light yellow-orange sauce first... it was reasonable. I could have done with a little more cheese, but on first taste, it was the standard pasta taste one would expect from most standard cafes.

Then I tried one of the orange coloured gnocci. It stuck to the roof of my mouth. Perhaps chance had given me a not so good piece. I tried one of the green ones. It stuck to the roof of my mouth. So did the white ones. No. It couldn't be. Gnocci is meant to be mushy? Is gnocci really supposed to stick to the roof of your mouth? Are the different colours all meant to taste exactly the same?

(Here dear reader, I must pause and let you know that this is only the second time I have ever eaten gnocci in my life. The first time was only an old left over piece from my sister's lunch two months ago and it was not mushy.)

So. What makes a good gnocci? I have absolutely no idea.

In this interstingly sad pasta where I craved more cheese to break up the monotony of the sauce, I then found an orange finger. A piece of pumpkin! It was like finding treasure in a game I was quickly tiring of. I dove to find another piece and was rewarded with a piece a little smaller than the tip of my finger.

There was no more.

I could have cried.

In the end, I left 5 pieces of gnocci. My tongue was sore from the constant cleaning it had to perform on the roof of my mouth. Two orange, two green and one white.

Granted, there were rare finds of pumpkin. Granted the gnocci came in three different colours. But where was the wholesome taste of the pumpkin or the furriness of the spinach in the sauce? Note to self. Next time I want to try pasta, try an actual Italian pasta restaurant type eatery. Not a low-grade university cafe. Even if it looks good through the glass. Even if it smells nice and the sauce was reasonable. The attempt will give your mouth a work out and more likely than not exhaust you.

The pieces of pumpkin and my little cup of hot chocolate were the only things that saved my meal. So. What makes a good gnocci? Somebody tell this ignoramus, please. And please don't tell me it is meant to stick to the roof of my mouth.

06 December, 2010

I'm bored

So, the towerness is fading to a rubble of stony vile. Here's something nice and short, while neutropenia is still the subject and meningitis complicates the style.

Nifedipine and mickey buttons have nothing to do with travel coupons.

Writing a story is like picking up every single pebble on the driveway and revising like picking up every grain of sand upon the path.

01 December, 2010

in the tower 4

Just as they were entering the umpteenth door identical to the one that the teachers had ushered them through, they heard a noise. It was only small. A whirr-whump. Then footsteps.

They ducked down out of sight of the windows and peered through the crack in the door hinge.

A dark figure bent over so that the soft orange glow from his belt would not give him away. He crept along the corridor toward them. A board creaked.

"Who dares creep around at this time of the night?" a voice boomed as the lights flickered on in the corridor. A bulky figure in a dressing gown stood with his hands on his hips in a doorway further down and the two children could see his hairy legs via one of the mirrors in the hallway. The mysterious figure crouched low. "Who-"

The question was cut short by a gurgle and the sound of spurting liquid hitting wood. Jacky gasped without realising it and Luke clapped his hand over her mouth. Too late, they saw the figure suddenly look in their direction. He crept toward the door and it rattled a little on its sliding groove when another voice snapped out.

"Paulos, what are you - " a scream followed.

Right before their door, Jacky and Luke saw the soft orange glow envelope the masked man and with an electronic whine, vanish. The two stared at each other, eyes wide, still too afraid to move.

Doors slammed and feet came running. Soon there was a crowd and the noise of screaming, crying, fainting and hysterics filled the formerly quiet night air. In the cacophanous confusion, Jacky and Luke hightailed it back to their room where they flopped on the floor, gasping as if they were fish out of the water.

"He didn't see us," Jacky breathed over and over. "He didn't see us."
"We hope."