Extra Cheesy Blasphemy

I have never been a cook.

My whole life, I sat idly by watching while my mom and grandmothers during holidays while they slaved over homemade casseroles and basted turkeys and desserts that can make your mouth melt just thinking about them. I watched my family's eyes light up every time my Oma said she was making her homemade lasagna. And I watched my mom hammer out a two-page spaghetti and meatballs recipe like it was old news.

And now -- finally -- I have learned my way around an oven (and a food processor, a hand mixer, a stove and a griddle).

I am no longer afraid of my mother's lasagna recipe -- or a hundred others. And I'm even trying new things, like spicy Cajun shrimp pasta, stuffed peppers with corn salsa and made-from-scratch oatmeal cookies. I am learning the finer points to timing out a meal, and I can even make one from a few odds and ends in the pantry.

I, Amanda Casciaro, can cook.

Because I can cook, I can so without remorse that I am highly offended by Pizza Hut's new advertising campaign. So they say they're selling lasagna, huh? Pssshhhfff.

Do they expect me to believe that could pass for lasagna? And do they expect me to believe they tested their two-bit dish on Italians, who compared it to their "momma's" within range of hidden cameras? They've got to be kidding me.

I am shocked. Shocked and appalled. Shocked, appalled and disgusted. And I can say that, because I've tasted that glorified dog food they brand as "lasagna." The "lasagna" with the sauce that tastes like it's been sitting on a shelf in a can for five years. The "lasagna" with layers so thin you can barely tell they included ricotta cheese. The "lasagna" they serve in a tin foil pan.

Yeah, "lasagna." I spit on that lasagna. And I bet my great-grandmother would too, if she wasn't rolling over in her grave right now.

It's blasphemous. And I, a proud Italian woman and a cook, am ashamed. I am ashamed at Pizza Hut. I am ashamed at whatever soulless advertising agency came up with that campaign. And I am ashamed at the actors and "Italians" in those commercials.

That is blasphemy. Pure and simple. With extra, stale, pasteurized cheese.