A woman came in demanding "acini di pepe"; it's the pearl pasta that goes in Italian wedding soup. Very hard to find and we don't carry it specifically because the only brands that make it are Italian-American. We do carry something very similar called "fregola"; it's toasted pearl pasta. Basically couscous.
SC: "I'm looking for a-see-ny, the pasta that you put in wedding soup. Do you understand what that is?" (what the frack is it with people and 'do you understand' to me lately? )
Me: "Ah, you want acini di pepe. We don't carry that one, it's very hard to find but we do have something very similar." I guide her over to the fregola, right next to it we have varying sizes of another pasta called malloreddus(sp) that could also work, it actually cooks up super-nice in soups.
SC: "I don't want the colors, I'm looking for the wedding pasta." (note: "wedding pasta" itself is a completely different product) "Is pasta supposed to be colors like that, maybe it's gone bad?" (right behind her is a literal rainbow of pasta, if she turns around her head will explode)
Me: "This fregola is toasted once dried, this gives it a better flavor and the toasting adds visual interest to a dish. It's the same thing as acini, just a regional variation."
Lather, rinse, repeat I don't know how many times; each round she's staring at me harder and seems to be trying to trip me up somehow.
SC: "I don't want the colors, do you know what you sell?"
Me: "This is the closest thing we have to what you want. I told you that acini is very hard to find."
SC starts picking up other pastas nearby; the malloreddus, a really teeny star-shaped pasta, the fregola that she was so against a minute ago. "What about these? Will these work?"
Me: "Fregola is fine for wedding soup and is the closest you'll get. The next closest thing we have is that malloreddus you're holding. The smallest size should look close to acini once cooked."
She grabs the malloreddus and huffs off without even a thank-you; fine by me, I have too much to do anyway.
SC: "I'm looking for a-see-ny, the pasta that you put in wedding soup. Do you understand what that is?" (what the frack is it with people and 'do you understand' to me lately? )
Me: "Ah, you want acini di pepe. We don't carry that one, it's very hard to find but we do have something very similar." I guide her over to the fregola, right next to it we have varying sizes of another pasta called malloreddus(sp) that could also work, it actually cooks up super-nice in soups.
SC: "I don't want the colors, I'm looking for the wedding pasta." (note: "wedding pasta" itself is a completely different product) "Is pasta supposed to be colors like that, maybe it's gone bad?" (right behind her is a literal rainbow of pasta, if she turns around her head will explode)
Me: "This fregola is toasted once dried, this gives it a better flavor and the toasting adds visual interest to a dish. It's the same thing as acini, just a regional variation."
Lather, rinse, repeat I don't know how many times; each round she's staring at me harder and seems to be trying to trip me up somehow.
SC: "I don't want the colors, do you know what you sell?"
Me: "This is the closest thing we have to what you want. I told you that acini is very hard to find."
SC starts picking up other pastas nearby; the malloreddus, a really teeny star-shaped pasta, the fregola that she was so against a minute ago. "What about these? Will these work?"
Me: "Fregola is fine for wedding soup and is the closest you'll get. The next closest thing we have is that malloreddus you're holding. The smallest size should look close to acini once cooked."
She grabs the malloreddus and huffs off without even a thank-you; fine by me, I have too much to do anyway.
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