Page 7 - Nutshell 3

So there it was: the whole story.
Cut and dried and not much glory;
Nothing much for a clever boy
In that enterprise to enjoy.

If eating noodles was his fate,
What on earth was left to create,
To break the awful tedium
Of toppings on that medium?

After dinner Walt went online:
He was unwilling to consign
Himself to an endless vista
Of undisguised pasta mista.

Perhaps a recipe untried—
An entrée roasted, steamed or fried?
His mother could stand to waste duds,
And his father had no taste buds.