The annual San Antonio Abate hit my block this week. I did a pretty good job of avoiding the assholes that run the stands and the trash that are drawn to it. But, alas, on its final night my insatiable desire for fried spheres of dough caked in powdered sugar won out and I made a quick pilgrimage. Here’s the thing about zeppole: there’s no other food that gives me heartburn as I am actually eating it. I go on a zeppole bender once a year — when these yamheads have their parade in my front yard. Thank God it is only once a year. Anyway, the first photo is from my window, the rest are down in the shit.
You just don’t appreciate Italian culture and food. It’s the best in the world amico.