We were having an Italian dinner on Saturday night. The chopped salads had been unmolded on their plates and were awaiting the final garnish. Bob walked in as I was sprinkling grated parmesan into a hot teflon skillet.
Bob: Oh! You're making...it's a....it's...don't tell me, I know this...it's called...oh shucks, can't remember but it starts with a 't'.
Me: You're thinking 'tuile'. But no, when it's just melted and crisped parmesan cheese it's called something else. Starts with an 'f'.
Bob: F**king tuile!
