My husband’s friend flew in from Bellag a week ago, and, as much as I tried, I could not make her happy with any type of food here in Melbourne.
We took her out to restaurants, to introduce her to the variety of food we have but ‘Italian food is the best’ so we went out for Italian 3 days in a row! Pasta, cheese, wine, anything is just not as 4pm, because ‘we do not drink cappuccino after 12pm.’
At Coles, she decided to teach me how to properly say the name of each pasta.
We decided to cook at home today, mind you, I am Asian, and I love my spices! She came, and the first thing she said was that our house smells bad (fish sauce), and then she TOSSED MY DISH IN THE TRASH! She told me that I should learn how to cook Italian dishes for my husband since it is not good for him to always eat dumb fusion food (???), and then she asked my husband to take her out for some lasagna! I was so mad I was about to start yelling but suddenly my husband stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.
I thought he was going to get his car keys to take her to the restaurant, and my heart absolutely sank. But instead, he walked right past her, looked into the trash can at the meal I had spent two hours making, and then turned to face her with a look I had never seen before.
“You didn’t just throw away my wife’s hard work,” he said, his voice scary calm. “You threw away your welcome here.”
She laughed nervously, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, come on, don’t be dramatic. It’s just food. I’m saving you from bad taste. You thank me later.”
“That ‘bad taste’ is the woman I love,” he snapped, cutting her off. “And this is her home. You’ve spent a week complaining, belittling her, and acting like a princess. I kept my mouth shut because you were a guest, but tossing her food? That’s it. I’m done.”
He pointed to the guest bedroom. “Pack your bags. I’m not taking you for lasagna. I’m taking you to a hotel.”
Her jaw dropped. “But… I’m your friend! You can’t just kick me out over some smelly noodles!”
“Watch me,” he said. “You insulted my wife, you insulted her culture, and you wasted food. In this house, we respect the cook. If you want authentic Italian that badly, you can catch an early flight back to Bellagio. Tonight, I’m eating whatever my wife cooks.”
He turned to me, hugged me tight in front of her, and whispered, “I love your spices.”
I have never seen someone pack a suitcase so fast in my life. The best part? After he dropped her off at the nearest hotel, he came back and we ordered the spiciest Thai takeout we could find. Bye bye, snob! 👋
