Apparently an important trick when you work exclusively in the medium of yellow-lit yellow pasta is the art of the White Balance. It turns sickly looking photos that appear to have been taken through a dirty microwave's plastic door window into works of art like what you see before you. The more you know!
Pictured here is White Balance, though personally I don't even see color (this is why my photographs are so bad, and racially sensitive).
This photo is of the dish as it was served to me, with the meatball cracked open like a terrified and terrifying eyeball. Why Olive Garden felt it necessary to give me this personal glimpse into the depths of their meat products escapes me, but I like to think there's a reason behind everything they do.
Pictured here is A Gaze Into The Abyss - make sure it doesn't gaze back into you!
A Phoenician delicacy, the chefs prepare this dish by squeezing the juice of a habanero over the chicken fritta to give its name a stinging ring of truth. Also, they don't actually do that, and I made this whole thing up.
Pictured here is Firebird - I'm a fraud, I'm sorry.
Disturbingly rich, tasteless, and slimy, this pasta is not worthy of the attention it gets. Yet it always seems to come out on top!
Pictured here is Trump Card - it beats China all the time. All the time.
Clocking in at a grand total of $17.47*, this is one a-spicy meat-a-ball, financially speaking. You can really taste the decadence that are afforded by the two most expensive upcharges. If you go this route, be sure you're hungry, because you'll want to get several refills to not feel guilty about throwing away nearly an entire NEPB's worth of money on mediocre ravioli and (admittedly great) shrimp.
Pictured here is Rich Uncle Pennybags - imagine it with a big cartoony moustache, monocle and top hat.
*This is the price at most nationwide Olive Gardens. You can expect to pay more at OGs in Alaska and the one in New York City.
"Profit," said I, "for sauce and topping!—profit still, refills unstopping!
Whether Waiter sent, or whether waiting for a bowl once more,
My Ziosk light yet blue and blinking, near the Coke Zero I'm drinking --
In this Olive Garden linking its entry hall to a Crocs store,
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Chicken, "Pomodor"
This pasta has been genetically engineered to prevent overeating. They do this by making it super gluey and unpleasant to consume.
Pictured here is Glutton-Free Rotini, and true to its name, I only ate the one bowl.
Mezzaluna Ravioli is the Premium Pasta of this year's Never Ending Pasta Bowl. Clocking in at a $2.99 upcharge, it is, proportional to the $9.99 base cost of the NEPB, a significant investment. Is it worth it? Frankly, I don't think so. Your serving size is small, when compared to the cheaper pasta options. Furthermore, more than any other OG pasta, this one's "from a frozen bag" origins are obvious in terms of texture and taste. I don't think I'd order the Ravioli even without factoring in the upcharge, but the extra three dollars removes any hope of this becoming a favorite.
Pictured here is Half-Moon - the literal translation of "Mezzaluna". Learn something new every day!
I'm really glad I don't have gluten sensitivity (and that no one else does either), because I've never had gluten-free pasta that didn't have the unsettling consistency of play-doh. I mean, it's better than having no pasta at all, but not by much.
Pictured here is Brotini - bruh.
Close up images of this sauce always make me a little nauseous, but it's so tasty that I can forgive it that, as long as it's not paired with italian sausage.
Pictured here is Palfredo - I ain't your buddy, pal!