Almost a Pound

Bacon was the draw. I made a commitment to carbonara way before the Italian set foot in the house. As soon as I got home I pulled out the bacon and commenced with prepping. I pushed forward with blinders on. Pasta had a destiny tonight.

'Short or Long' he asked.

We ultimately decided on short. The cupboard doors creaked. I think I may have heard a collective sigh of relief coming from the Barilla boxes.

The moment was nearing. Our hearts pounding in rhythm with the boiling water. We generously salted and poured in three quarters of a box of penne. We could have done a pound easily.

A thick perfume of bacon, garlic, shallot and white wine permeated the kitchen. It seemed as if an eternity had gone by before the pasta was ready. Al dente, it was pulled from the pot quickly. The eggs along with a healthy dose of black pepper, parm and bacon were on standby.

A generous amount of time was given to proper distribution of product. Eggs, stir and flip. Black pepper, stir and flip. Bacon, stir and flip. Parmigiano Reggiano, stir and flip.

I've mastered the art of eating like a true-blooded Italian. Two bowls of pasta later for the both of us. I'm not afraid to eat. 'What's next?' is my/our favorite question after the first course has been devoured.

Contented at last. The non-pasta dinner streak has been broken.