Red wine and chocolate torte will be there, too

When people ask me what my favorite type of food is, I either answer “Spicy” or “Carbs.”

In my version of heaven there shall be – in addition to friendly fuzzy llamas and perfectly frozen Slurpees – an endless pasta buffet. And like in the movie “Defending Your Life,” it will be the most insanely delicious pasta in creation, without any bothersome impact whatsoever on body fat, triglycerides, or blood sugar levels. I shall wear one of those beer can baseball hats where the Schlitz is replaced by bottles of Tabasco, accessorized by a Camelbak water pack thingy filled with tangy marinara sauce. Oh, Lord, take me now!

Ok, fine. I can wait. But until then, please God, can you make me a marathon runner? Please??

We were at dinner last night at a favorite Italian place in Portland. It is the home of one of The Best Dessert Experiences I have ever had (see January 25, 2008 post). Sadly, My Little Spuma is a rotational item and it wasn’t on the menu last night. Boo!!

Our dinner plans were very spur-of-the-moment, so we breezed into the restaurant at about 6pm, totally clueless that the Portland Marathon was today. The restaurant was thusly packed. Nevertheless, we managed to quickly snag a first-come-first-serve table in the noisy bar and settled into a tasty dinner with friendly but frantic service. Our waitress was a blur of black linen in hipster eyewear.

We enjoyed our gnocchi and tortelli immensely. It was about 7:30p when our waitress brought our check and paused -- for the first time -- for some idle tip-inspiring chit chat. She apologized for everything having taken so long. She explained that the restaurant was a lot busier than normal due to the marathon being held in the morning. “There is a 2 hour, 45 minute wait right now just for pasta.” Huh?

Oh, that’s right! I’ve heard of this! Marathon runners often do this thing called “carbo-loading” the night before a race. They gorge on as many carbohydrates as possible to store as fuel for running. So pasta, pasta, and more pasta! Guilt-free!! Oh, that does sound so perfectly heavenly. Except for that pesky running part. Ok, fine, I’ll wait for heaven.