As promised, I have done a picture of the 'grandson' of Strega Nona from yesterday.
Here's my Swedish Chef...despite the fact that I've realized he is Italian, I'm still going to call him the Swedish Chef...it's my party, I can be contradictory if I want to (haha):
|Isn't he magnificent? He's so fantastic that I actually have two of him! I bought the first one a couple years ago, and my little sister saw another a few weeks later and got him for me because I loved the original so much! You would think I have a thing for utensil holders, but really I just love the weirdness aspect... He usually sits on my art desk and holds scissors...but I gave him a short vacation while I sketched. Now it's back to work for him!|
Here's my drawing of the Swedish Chef:
|In my head, he has no utensil holes...neither did Strega Nona if you noticed...I think he has all the supplies for Nona to make spaghetti...even bread to go along with it. I'm not entirely sure what the purplish red things in the front of the basket are...if you notice, that's the only thing that's actually in the basket of the utensil holder...I'm going to call them rutabagas...just because I like the word rutabaga...|
And for those of you who have never seen the Swedish Chef, here he is, in all his glory:
Just for the record, watching this as an adult, I'm starting to think this is a little racist? I don't know...I need the opinion of a Swedish person... My husband is Norwegian, which is close, but no cigar...egads...that sounds racist too... It's just a cavalcade of unintentional possible racism here today... Now I feel horrible...
I'm gonna go ponder the idea of a beloved childhood friend potentially being a sack of stereotypes and cry into some Cocoa Pebbles...unless their secretly racist too... My whole life has been a lie...