You know, many of my friends have told me that when they eat Italian food, the dreams they have that night that are either, (or all) wild, crazy, deep, or even scary dreams. I wonder what it could be? I have taken a few Dream Interpretation classes here and there throughout my various and many years of academia, and I have presented this question to various instructors without avail. What could it be? The combination of spices, the ingredients, cheeses, what?!? It very well may be the Italian food coupled with the wine, or other libations. Or perhaps it might be the chemistry of the individual with the chemistry of the food. Who knows...?
As much as I love to cook, and consume Italian food, I have no such occurrences except...when it comes to Pizza. Don‘t ask me why, it just does. And it seems like the more diverse the pizza is (in regards to the various toppings), the wilder, or intense my dreams are!
Here are two examples of those dreams...
*The Airport
I had a pizza dinner at a friend‘s house one night. They had bought one of those: “Take and Bake” pizzas with everything (and I do mean “everything”) on it and we all had a decent share of Chianti along with dinner as well. That night, as I slept, I had this dream:
I was in an airport, and had just gotten off a plane. I arrived in the middle of the night, and the airport was quite empty, save a few workers vacuuming the carpeted hallways and waiting areas. Everything was quiet, too quiet, actually. In fact, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my footsteps... I could hear it even as they tread on the carpet... Koow.... Koow... Koow... I was moving in slow motion. I was dressed in a casual suit and carrying a briefcase. Only the sound of my footsteps was heard. Koow... Koow... Koow... As I walked down the corridor, I saw two men in conversation standing near a huge window on the right side of the hallway ... Koow... Koow... Koow... I could see it was dark outside, as I passed them, and they stopped speaking as I approached them. Koow... Koow... Koow... The man that was facing in my direction as I walked by them was picking at his nail with a small file. They both turned and watched me as I walked by, yet said nothing. Koow... Koow... Koow... Still moving in slow motion, I continued down that long hallway... On the left side of the hallway, I came across a bank of those “sit-down” types of half sized in height telephone booths. On the third booth down, there was a seated man who watched me cautiously as I walked by. Koow... Koow... Koow... Still, I could only hear my footsteps as I walked by in an almost animated slow motion movement. As I continued still further down that corridor, I was approaching the restrooms that were about fifteen yards on the left side... Two men exited the restrooms and were beginning their walk in my direction. KOOW... KOOW... KOOW... My footsteps seemed to grow louder... As the two men walked even closer to me, they both reached into their jackets and pulled out handguns. Seeing this, and as they raised their weapons to fire, I turned around to make a retreat to the reverse...KOOW... KOOW...KOOW... The sound of my footsteps became the sound of my heartbeat. When I turned around, I saw that the man in the phone booth and the first two I had seen at the window were all facing me and pointing weapons at me as well. They all began to fire. I remember seeing my briefcase flying into the air. As each bullet hit me, I was grabbing the parts of my torso where each round had made its‘ entry point. Still in slow motion, I fell back and onto the floor. I saw myself slightly bounce off the carpeted floor before I came to rest near a trash can. My breathing became laboured, and the last thing I remembered was the sound of my heart beat... KOOW... Koow..... koow.......
Pizza Source: Papa Aldo‘s
*The Chief
One night I had made my own hand-tossed pizza at home. The ingredients were (besides the cheese, pizza sauce, and dough; were: Basil and garlic (lots of garlic), pepperoni, artichoke, and mushrooms. I had a couple of glasses (well, maybe three or four) of the Bolla Valpolicella. I recall that I had a hard time piercing the boundary of sleep that night. When I finally found a bit of slumber, it was restless.
I was tossing and turning, and seeing various images of my Army days in my brief glimpses of dreams... Just when I thought had found a bit of peaceful rest, I heard someone calling my name. I tried ignoring it at first, but as it persisted, I felt like I had awakened and sat up in bed. There, standing at the foot of my bed was a Chief Warrant Officer, one of many that I had as one of my superiors in the Army. “The Chief” was the more of a father figure to me, than anything else. I learned more from him as a male role model than anyone else in my Life. He was standing there in his full dress uniform, and I remember his ribbons displaying a vibrant hue of their various colours. He looked at me, shaking his head, as he always did to me... He said: “Son (ha always called me Son), I just want you to know that you are one of the most colourful people that I have ever known in my Life...go back to sleep.” And that was the dream.
Three days later, I heard through the grapevine that he had died that very night; thousands of miles away, in Italy...
Pizza Source: “Guido‘s Pizzeria”
I wonder... Do any of you have strange or weird dreams from Italian food or Pizza? Or any other kind of food or beverage? (Except Tequila)