MARRY ME

They say sweets are a replacement for love.

That probably explains why I stuffed myself with M & M’s, chocolate cakes and vanilla gelato most of my life.

It’s because nobody really asked me to marry him, as promised by Walt Disney.

Most men asked me out. And in, their lives. Most men asked me for sex, took me out for dinner, cuddled me at night. Whispered soft words into my ears, bought cinema tickets and romantic mini breaks. One of them even reproduced himself twice, with me.

But no diamond on my finger, only big, bulky, sparkling spoons in my hands to dip inside Tiramisu, Panna Cotta and Cheesecakes. Every night a different lover. No strings attached. Responsabilites get washed away in the dishwasher after consumption.

Today I came to meet Cannolo Siciliano in Bondi.

It’s perfect. A delicate heart of ricotta wrapped up in a cosy, crunchie pasta frolla skin. I close my eyes and for a moment I find myself in a Dolce & Gabbana ad, on a boat, under the Sicilian sun and under a Sicilian hunk.

At this time, he could almost ask me to marry him.

I would say no, of course. Too many calories.

@ Pasticceria Papa, Bondi