Allison was very unimpressed with the size of the toppings on this pasta. "They're so tiny!"
"Well," I ventured cautiously, "they are shrimp."
She did not dignify that with a response, but she did finish the dish, so it must've been pretty good otherwise.
This name could have been given to about half the pastas I see my dates eat, but Chelsea really made a point about it. The rigatoni was not able to maintain a hold on the sauce, and consequently the dining experience was notably dry and lackluster.
Nominated for second-most unsettling two-word combination (after "puppy enema") this is actually a filling combination with a good balance of macronutrients. Solid option! Try not to think about puppy enemas while eating, btw.
Two cows are standing in a field (of cavatappi). One says to the other, "Hey, you worried about that Mad Cow Disease going around?"
The other one scoffs. "Why should I be? I'm a squirrel."
The cool color palette and burning spirals of shrimp in this dish immediately evoke the foxglove-hazed world of Van Gogh's most beloved by college freshmen painting, The Starry Night. And if you don't see it, you're the uncultured one.
Imagine a ring of cheese so dense, so packed with cholesterol, that light cannot escape its gooey center. What appears to be a normal pasta transcends into a physical phenomena beyond science's ability to explain. Also, it comes with soup.