Yes, I put pineapple on my pizza. So sue me. And get your legal papers to hand because you’d better get ready for my other exotic fruit additions to traditional Italian cuisine.

What business is it of yours if I put mango in my risotto? Hm? You’re not even going to reply, are you? You heard me. Mango. Stuffed right in there. Not cooked. So arrest me.

While we’re at it, just so you know, I put kumquat and lime in my carbonara. Yep, both. What’s so weird about that, tell me? So read me my Miranda rights.

So yes, if you must know, I put coconut on my lasagna. Who are you to say I may not? And not the shredded coconut, the actual whole coconut, husk and all, I just whack it right on there. So take me into custody for questioning.

Oh, by the way, as you’re such a curious Carl, yes, I do put pawpaw on my pasta puttanesca. Who doesn’t? So call me a lawyer. I mean ask a lawyer to come via telephone, don’t just tell me I’m a lawyer, ‘cause I’m not.

Sometimes I even sprinkle some loganberries on top of my Hawaiian pizza. Just right on top of the pineapple. I don’t actually know what loganberries are but I read them in an article about berries along with wolfberries and mulberries and huckleberries, and I haven’t got a clue what any of those are either. I mean, I have a bit of a clue with the word “berries” but apart from that, NO CLUE. So put me on trial.

Who’s to say tamarind and pesto tagliatelle don’t go together? Because I put a ton of tamarind on. So put me in front of the court.

And since you’re asking, of course I put banana on my penne all’arrabbiata. So give me the bible and I’ll slap my left hand right on there, have my right hand left in the air, and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, baby.

Yes, I put tomato on my spaghetti bolognese. Guess I’m just whacky like that. Yes, it is an exotic fruit. Yes it is, it’s from Peru. So call your next witness to the stand.

It’s eating at you to know whether I put guava on my focaccia. You’re fuming, I can see, you’re ready to blow. Yes, I do that. So put me away for a life sentence without the possibility of parole.

There’s no rules to say I can’t add rambutan (yes, I’ve been doing my research for this article) to bucatini all’amatriciana (go on, Google them both)? That’s right, there is NO RULE. So throw me in solitary confinement.

Fine. You’ve got me. The cat is outta the bag. I put kiwano melon in my caprese chicken saltimbocca, lychees in my meatballs and marinara, and durian in my casu marzu (don’t google that one). So execute me.

What’s my last meal? Could I just have a burger, please. Between a sliced donut. Extra carrot.

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