Rigatoni Pasta Pie

I know.

You don’t even have to say it. I felt the wave of your eye roll. Matter of fact, I just surfed on that sum-bia.

When I say Rigatoni Pasta Pie I always say it like Billy Crystal in When Harry Met Sally, when he and Meg Ryan are standing in that massive art gallery and he decides they’re going to talk funny for the rest of the day. Remember that? “Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash. But I would be proud to partake in your pecan pie.” (except it would be pasta pie because my blog post today is about a rigatoni pasta pie and not a pecan pie.)

Oh, hey! How are your teams doing in the March Madness? We filled out a bracket this year and I swear to you it’s like I’m watching the stock market. There’s screaming, foaming at the mouth, sailor-style cursing, papers flying, neck sweating, hair pulling, room pacing, etcetera etcetera. And I have no idea what’s even going on! But I should probably be puffing on a cigar to make me look cool and official. And a green visor!

Wait that doesn’t make sense . . .

How ’bout a sweater vest!?

. . . No.

Space boots?

I’m confused. Maybe a pasta pie will help.

Ze recipe for ze Rigatoni Pasta Pie, bay-baaaaaay.