One meal came complete with antipasto. I'm not sure how, but "antipasto" is a foreign concept to the males of this household. The nature of the dish itself is as much a mystery to them as its pronunciation.
I swear, if someone calls it "ant-EYE-pasta" one more time, there might be violence committed. I would not be convicted by a jury of my foodie peers--or my linguist ones, either.
Little Brother was a little leery of the idea of antipasto until I told him it was a big "ham-alami." That's what he calls the ham-and-salami rollups that I sometimes make for his lunches. When he came over to the table and saw the platter, he was sold.
Except for the Swiss cheese. (How'd that get in there?)
In any event, it was all delicious and we're looking forward to the equally-delicious-looking main course, which is almost hot enough to eat.