I Hate the Rich

I hate the rich. Mark Bittman, a food guy, writes:

"It seems it's necessary to visit Venice every few years"

I can't afford to go to Venice even once, let alone every few years. Thanks, Mark, for rubbing my nose in it.

"What I ate was super: black sea bass ravioli in mussel-clam broth, beautifully hand shaped and pinched on top, like dim sum; perfect black barley risotto with mushrooms, zucca (pumpkin) purée, and a couple of first-rate grilled scampi; grilled octopus on a bed of potatoes mashed with olive oil, along with cold, slow-cooked tomato — a surprising touch that worked — and a garnish of lardo (cured fat) tangled with a wafer of black bread; zucca saor (saor is the local marinade, usually of raisins, pine nuts, oil, vinegar and onion) with thin fried slices of artichoke and soft shell crab."

I know what zucca is, and I know what lardo is. I eat a lot of food that's "super," but I'll never get to Italy, my ancestral homeland.

Your obsession with black is freaking me out:

• black sea bass ravioli
• black barley risotto with mushrooms
• a wafer of black bread

And how do you "tangle" bread with fat?

By the way, How to Cook Everything is my favorite cookbook.