So last night I was out at dinner with some friends (it was Lisa's last night in town before she returned to the lonely hinterlands of New York City), at a place that included on its menu a dish with "balsamic redaction." Also on offer was spaghetti with meatballs, which a couple of people decided to order. So, naturally, I had to make the comment that it was a good thing that the meatballs were plural because, after all, you get no bread with one meatball.
Four blank stares and some uncomfortable laughter later, it occurred to me that this reference might not be quite as universal as I had thought, and perhaps not everyone's grandfather had been singing that particular song at random intervals for as long as they could remember. Which is too bad because, really, who doesn't love a jaunty little number about poverty, hunger and humiliation?