Brace yourself because we’re about to go deeper than a visit to Dr. Melfi’s couch.
My Sicilian grandma didn’t just leave me with fond memories of her pasta fazoo; nope, her lineage that duskied mi dong. I swear it’s like she winks at me every time I catch a glimpse of my swarthy humble hawg.
But there’s great news. Now I can recolor my meat wand to a pinkish hue, one that women crave and men admire.
Can’t wait to show the porterhouse.