Okay, I give up.

I've been harboring this suspicion for a while now that, despite the hair and the eyes and the cheeks and Great-Grandma D'Orazio's hips, I'm really not very Italian at all. The fact that I seem to prefer the taste of garlic salt to the taste of actual garlic was a big warning sign, and today, I'm ready to admit it.

Because today, at the New Year's staff lunch, they served polenta. It's the first time I ever recall eating the stuff, and let me just say: OMG ewwwwwww. Cold congealed cornmeal mush. Yeccch. The Italians can keep that stuff.

Me, I'm Italian-American, and only half at that.