The Tortellini Affair

If only that innkeeper hadn’t been so nosy.

I’ve always a massive fan of tortellini, the ring-shaped pasta that's packed with meat or cheese and tons of deliciousness.

However, a recent incident has me reconsidering my love for these yummy little hoops.

Like any beloved food, the origin of tortellini is disputed, with both the cities of Bologna and Modena claiming to be its birthplace.

As far as its appearance, one legend—there are apparently several--has it that tortellini got its unique shape after Venus, the goddess of love herself, once stayed at an inn.

The innkeeper, overcome by her beauty, spied on her through a keyhole and since all he could see was her bellybutton, he created a pasta in this shape.

This would explain the term "ombelico di Venere", or Venus' navel, that is occasionally used to describe tortellini.

I try to keep my pasta consumption down, but for the last few weeks I’ve been picking up tortellini at my local supermarket for lunch.

I don’t eat it that often, so what’s the harm?

Well, none, really. It’s just a matter of getting it home that’s the problem.

Last week I bought a pound of the stuff which I planned to use for two lunches over my five-day workweek.

But when I opened my refrigerator on Tuesday afternoon there was no sign of my food.

I tried not to panic, figuring—hoping—that I had forgotten to buy it. Or maybe I had left it at the deli counter like I did two weeks ago.

But I checked the receipt—yes, I actually saved it—and found that I had shelled out 8 bucks for a bucket of omeblici that I didn’t have.

I knew I should’ve gotten the kale salad.

Summer Rerun

I called the supermarket and one of the staff told me that the store keeps a record of items that people have left behind. Unfortunately, my tortellini didn’t make the list.

The woman told me I could come to the store, and they would check the store video system to see what had happened to my lunch. And I thought about doing this.

But when I walked into the store on Friday morning it just sounded so ridiculous. Checking video footage for missing tortellini like I’m reviewing the Zapruder film?

If that innkeeper hadn’t been such a degenerate, he wouldn’t have looked through that keyhole, so there would’ve been no tortellini and, thus, none of this aggravation for me.

Or mybe I could be more attentive.

Now, I vaguely remember hearing something hit the ground as I took my groceries home. I didn’t see anything when I turned to look, but I wonder if the container fell out of my cart.

If this were a one-time incident I wouldn’t mind so much, but I’ve been losing things recently.

I’m not a young man by any stretch and every time I forgot something like this I start to wonder if it’s something more serious than mere forgetfulness.

Last month, I left my bank card in the ATM at my local branch. I got my cash and just walked out the damn door.

I alerted my bank as soon as I realized that the card was missing but not before some asshat had bought himself coffee at Dunkin Donuts and a pair of sneakers at Footlocker on my dime. Or a whole bunch of dimes, actually.

I would’ve turned a lost card over to the bank, but there’s no accounting for people, is there?

Maybe this guy stole my food, too. I can just see him, sipping his coffee, resting his new sneakers on a table while scarfing down my tortellini. Choke on it, you bum.

This week I changed up my order and went with rainbow pasta, which I’m happy to say is safely residing in my refrigerator.

Let's hope it stays there.