Yes, I put pineapple on my pizza. So sue me. And get your authorized papers handy since you’d higher prepare for my different unique fruit additions to conventional Italian delicacies.
What enterprise is it of yours if I put mango in my risotto? Hm? You’re not even going to answer, are you? You heard me. Mango. Stuffed proper in there. Not cooked. So arrest me.
Whereas we’re at it, simply so , I put kumquat and lime in my carbonara. Yep, each. What’s so bizarre about that, inform me? So learn me my Miranda rights.
So sure, if you happen to should know, I put coconut on my lasagna. Who’re you to say I could not? And never the shredded coconut, the precise complete coconut, husk and all, I simply whack it proper on there. So take me into custody for questioning.
Oh, by the best way, as you’re such a curious Carl, sure, I do put pawpaw on my pasta puttanesca. Who doesn’t? So name me a lawyer. I imply ask a lawyer to come back through phone, don’t simply inform me I’m a lawyer, ‘trigger I’m not.
Typically I even sprinkle some loganberries on high of my Hawaiian pizza. Excellent on high of the pineapple. I don’t really know what loganberries are however I learn them in an article about berries together with wolfberries and mulberries and huckleberries, and I haven’t received a clue what any of these are both. I imply, I’ve a little bit of a clue with the phrase “berries” however aside from that, NO CLUE. So put me on trial.
Who’s to say tamarind and pesto tagliatelle don’t go collectively? As a result of I put a ton of tamarind on. So put me in entrance of the courtroom.
And because you’re asking, in fact I put banana on my penne all’arrabbiata. So give me the bible and I’ll slap my left hand proper on there, have my proper hand left within the air, and swear to inform the reality, the entire fact, and nothing however the fact, child.
Sure, I put tomato on my spaghetti bolognese. Guess I’m simply whacky like that. Sure, it’s an unique fruit. Sure it’s, it’s from Peru. So name your subsequent witness to the stand.
It’s consuming at you to know whether or not I put guava on my focaccia. You’re fuming, I can see, you’re able to blow. Sure, I try this. So put me away for a life sentence with out the opportunity of parole.
There’s no guidelines to say I can’t add rambutan (sure, I’ve been doing my analysis for this text) to bucatini all’amatriciana (go on, Google them each)? That’s proper, there may be NO RULE. So throw me in solitary confinement.
Effective. You’ve received me. The cat is outta the bag. I put kiwano melon in my caprese hen saltimbocca, lychees in my meatballs and marinara, and durian in my casu marzu (don’t google that one). So execute me.
What’s my final meal? May I simply have a burger, please. Between a sliced donut. Further carrot.
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