Word: spaghettied
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...whole roast just because my daughter-in-law mistook a daffodil bulb for an onion and sliced it over the meat?" asked a worried caller. Yes, replied the hot line, the bulbs are toxic to humans. Other questions indicate a lot of basic ground needs covering. Two samples: "Can spaghetti sauce left open on the counter for three days hurt me?" and "Is it O.K. to eat groceries that my husband left in the car for a week...
...than three astrological cookbooks -- perhaps the perfect gifts for Nancy Reagan's new Bel Air kitchen. With such loony titles as Cosmic Cuisine (Harper & Row; $19.95), they stress the importance of choosing foods to suit one's sun sign. But while one claims that Cancers prefer a dish of spaghetti with a strong taste of the Mediterranean, another says they're inclined toward turnips. Alas, those looking for clear celestial guidance will find that their stars are crossed...
...started spying on customers, looking for someone interesting to follow. After all, everybody has to buy groceries at some point, and in the quiet, wooded streets of Reading that point seemed to be Atlantic Foods. Streams of post-retirement-age couples wandered through with armfuls of catfood and spaghetti, looking unworried about the future of Social Security. A few young office folks pulled up their striped cuffs to scoop sprouts and avocados from the salad bar. Then came a guy with Bon Jovi hair and a black, flapping fringe coat; I didn't actually see what he bought...
...vacation month, so delegates will alas miss a sui generis Creole-Italian cuisine in a no-frills roadhouse about 30 minutes from the French Quarter. Classics include cracked crab marinated in Italian vegetable pickles; oysters baked with garlic, parsley and bread crumbs; barbecued shrimp heady with rosemary; hand-rolled spaghetti with butter, olive oil and garlic; and homemade fennel-sweet Italian sausage...
...stubble alighted on Clint Eastwood's shoulder and vouchsafed him the secret of star acting: "Don't act. You're an icon, pal. Get used to it." The advice has served Eastwood well. From his starmaking stint as the Man with No Name in Sergio Leone's spaghetti westerns to this, his fifth film as Dirty Harry Callahan, Eastwood has built a durable celebrity on his unique brand of Zen surliness. By now his character need hardly cock an eyebrow, let alone a trigger, to send supervillains hurtling to their deaths. "Go ahead, punks," he might snarl...