[PhilDragoo]

My father's second wife came from Italy to open an Italian restaurant in Indianapolis. Several posters referred to Indianapolis. She is dead now, and I do not know the particulars of the restaurant--but she had a winning passion about food. She could convince you of the spiritual quality of the bread she made--not with words, but rather inflection and a hand gesture and a pinch of your cheek.

My son-in-law's wedding reception dinner was routed to an Olive Garden banquet room between the San Diego chapel and the country club ballroom. The food was rationed out by Seinfeld's soup nazis--I was not aware of its quality, only of the stern attention to business of the guards. A charge was issued for each additional breadstick--I jest, but just.

The intent of the teevee commercials is to create the schmoozy Norman Rockwell impression of the Italian family dinner--a nice pool into which tense American families can submerge their busy worries.

The author of the piece makes his money carping. He's a carp on a plate at a place I wouldn't go, not being family.

[KLT]

The author of the piece makes his money carping. He's a carp on a plate at a place I wouldn't go, not being family.

Thank you Phil....interesting family history...

Freegards!