Food

This was originally a piece I wrote for class, but it's somewhat humorous, so enjoy:

Growing up, we Americans were taught to honor the Food Pyramid, a guide to daily eating that couldn’t go wrong (until they changed it in 2007). The Food Pyramid was built on a foundation of grains, with equal measures fruits and vegetables, smaller equal parts dairy and meat, and balancing on top, like the golden cap on an Egyptians tomb, sugar. When the old pyramid was left to rot and the new one was erected, exercise was added to the mix, depicted by a stick figure happily striding up one side of the pyramid that had been converted into a staircase. Its no wonder we Americans are such healthy eaters and lead such active lifestyles.

Italians, if they ever were to erect a monument to food, would never build a pyramid; they would build a large, domed building with fountains that spurt wine and alcoves bearing statues to every type of food imaginable. The most famous painters of the day would be hired to cover every inch of wall space with frescoes dedicated to the harvesting, preparing, and eating of food. Of course no actual food would be allowed inside the monument, seeing as it is a sacred place.

But let’s humor ourselves and pretend the Italians do have a food pyramid. They still wouldn’t do it like us Americans. First of all they would not build one but three pyramids, probably arranged in some loose illusion to the holy trinity, and built of pure marble. The pyramids would represent Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner.

The Breakfast Pyramid would be built on a foundation of pastries. The sheer amount of diversity in Italian pastries would cause this pyramid to have a base twice the size of the rest of the pyramid. The next layer, cemented to the pastry base with a layer of Nutella, would be cookies exclusively dipped in warm milk. Sitting atop the Breakfast Pyramid, vibrating dangerously close to the edge, would be coffee. Cappuccino in particular would rule this pyramid, and for many Italians it is the only part of the pyramid they ever actually see.

Next up, a safe distance away from the Breakfast Pyramid, comes the Lunch Pyramid. The Lunch Pyramid is built of one solid block of marble depicting only one icon: Pizza. There may be a few other sandwiches thrown in there along the boarder, but they even look like lunch pizza; square, folded, wrapped in wax paper, and eaten between place of purchase and place of where-you-go-to-make-money-to-purchase-pizza.

Finally we arrive at the biggest pyramid of them all, the Dinner Pyramid. This pyramid has so many intricate layers, you’re going to need to hire a tour guide to understand it all, but here’s a brief overview. The base is antipasti, or in other words, little samples of everything else you’re going to encounter on the pyramid. If you don’t like the antipasti, run away immediately. Next up is primi patti, which consists of just enough pasta to somehow make you hungrier. Third we encounter secondi patti, the biggest section of the pyramid. This section is dedicated to meats of every kind, questionably edible things from the ocean, and sometimes pizza in it’s true round form. One more layer up lies deserts, and lording over it all at the top is wine. Wine rules this pyramid and secretly also rules the Lunch Pyramid, and has been eyeing the Breakfast Pyramid for a few centuries now. Wine flows through all sections of the Dinner Pyramid, giving the Italian appetite the strength desired to climb these colossal monuments.

One last note: the Italian food pyramids would never add a stick figure depicting exercise, but would rather show a happy fat old Italian man leaning against the pyramids, completely satisfied, and laughing at the American stick figure struggling up the pyramids.