Pasta, on hearing her sing, encouraged her, and recommended a teacher.
Dip them into a pasta marinate (No. 17), and fry them a golden brown.
Upon the second night Pasta did not come to hear her new rival.
From that moment she was the pet of the Milanese public: Pasta's reign was over.
She could not awe, like Pasta, but she could fascinate and charm.
Never had Malibran nor Pasta sung with expression and intonation so perfect.
What a fellow you are never to say a word about Pasta to me!
Pasta and Rubini surpassed themselves in the splendor of their performance.
Pasta, at the end of the first act, declared the new opera a fiasco.
It was during this season that Pasta first sang with Malibran.