The roar of the cannoli

  

     An old newspaper pal of mine and I decided to have lunch. Since he lives in Lemont, which is a haul from Northbrook, and Northbrook is an identical trek for him, I suggested we meet halfway, in Elmhurst.
     That made perfect sense. Though I had ulterior motives. The Victor Lezza bakery outlet is in Elmhurst, and well, it's been a while. 
     So we met, and had a very pleasant lunch at Fitz's Pub. And then I slid over to Lezza's to order, as carefully directed by my wife, a pair of cannoli — pistachio, not chocolate chip. Plus two tubs of Spumoni. Plus a package of lemon ricotta cookies. Plus other cookies, of my own selection, one of which didn't make it home.
     Okay, two of which didn't make it home. 
     When I got home, and went to put the cannoli in the refrigerator, my wife said, "Who are you kidding?" and she polished off hers on the spot. And I joined her with mine, despite the three cookies eaten in the car. One must live, and sometimes, well, diabetes be damned. That's what insulin is for.
    After, I looked at my photo, and thought, "cannoli" ... that's an unusual word. It must be connected to ... And here I squinted hard and played my Guess the Derivation Game ... cannon.
     On the green in one. From the Latin canna, or "reed," a hollow plant from which we name all sorts of tube-like objects. Not only justly-famous deserts, cannoli, or "little tube," (that's the plural — one is cannolo, though seldom used). Plus the aforementioned "cannon," and "cane," not to forget "canal" and "channel." Quite a lot really.
     What keeps etymology from being mere trivia is the meaning we layer over it. For instance, I couldn't help think that it was the same humanity that developed both life-enriching cannoli and life-shattering cannons. I suppose we could take comfort in the realization that, over the wide swoop of history, it is the cannoli and not the cannons that are deployed most often. Cannoli are functional to this day; cannons merely decorative. That's improvement.
     I am glad I went to Lezza's and even gladder it is half an hour away in Elmhurst. It would not do to visit too much. A cannoli and, okay, truth be told, four cookies, spiked my blood sugar and blew my diet out of the water as surely as any cannonball would. But a lot more pleasantly.