Angel Hair

Ahh..Family. Nothing brings out the wolf in us quite like some time with the pack, especially when that pack is slated to eat at the local Italian "family-style" trough. Let me describe what a family-style restaurant is. It is a place where you order large dishes, too big for one "normal" human to consume, and you place these various big servings in the middle of a three mile long thin rectangular table and watch your closest kin slyly stab each other in the leg with forks in an effort to appear civilized while still quelling the fit of "I Won't get Enough!" that is circling in their brains.

Some relatives like to seem polite and just wait until the plate is tugged their way and they take what is, for a baby elephant, one serving. Others like to be the take charge kind that ensures everyone gets some even if it means three strands of spaghetti per person and they can become warden over the remaining meatballs. I attribute these "others" to be much like people who gather as much money as possible and then don't spend it. The satisfaction is in the privileged and rare doling out. This and the "some" are my family. I am well on my way to being a fat, ruthless, control freak, alpha female.

But I digress.

The point here wasn't the picturesque scene of my uncle hoarding his plate in a corner like some sort of Garlic Bread Smeigal, it was the decor. Above the splatters of what can only reasonably be explained as marinara sauce, this restaurant is filled with pictures from some Italian fatass's family. Now the name of the place, given for the name of the fatass relative who lived in his basement and consumed most of Italy, is supposed to give some sort of explanation for the fact that it looks like an episode of Clean House. Pictures are cluttered everywhere and they are often .....saucy, to say the least. Of all the pictures that cluttered the walls: women flashing men, woman bending over, old Italian celebrities positioned in pictures right next to awkward body parts, elderly ladies giving people the finger and, yes, with weirdly positioned awkward body parts as well, one picture caught my eye.

It was a piece from the following classic painting:

I use the word piece here because the whole painting wasn't displayed, only a key part of it.
Now, we have all glanced at this thing and saw that said awkward body parts were covered cleverly in a half modest, half seductive placing of various limbs or hair extensions (clearly). Why go through all that trouble then if said awkward body part is covered with THIS?:


And yes, before you ask, this is exactly how it appeared on the wall. Just think of that tiny box with a brown frame (or whatever drapes you prefer) placed on the wall, over the shoulder of my fifteen year old brother.

In a restaurant that turns your family into animals I can't think of a better piece to be hung on the wall to punctuate the entire experience.