Shot Through The Heart
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was yesterday. Yesterday at 2:21 PM, to be exact.
"How about pasta with asparagus and bacon tonight?" He asked.
"Oh yes!" I said.
Asparagus, Springs arrow. It snuck up on us. Now crisp, bright spears have taken to adorning our meals. Last night it slow danced with salty bacon in olive oil with crushed red pepper and garlic. Always garlic.
This weekend we'll crack farm fresh eggs over a bed of asparagus in a shallow pan. We'll gild with olive oil, lemon, salt, pepper, and subtle shaving of Parmesan. Saturday lunch, I think. Crusty bread, an assortment of nice cheeses. Oh yes!
It is Spring! It really is...Even though temperatures won't climb out of the 40's today. My body, my palate, in full denial of the wrath Mother Nature brings. What is her problem? We have flowers to plant, seedlings to encourage. This just won't do.
"It's spicy. Taste it before you add anymore." He said.
Anymore is the crushed red pepper flakes that we use in just about everything that demands a fork.
"I like it spicy, but I'll taste it first." I said.
There in our bowls, penne (an appropriate choice) with asparagus and bacon, which we proceeded to dust with adequate amounts of Parmesan.
"This is really good. What do you think? Do you like it?" I asked.
His mouth was full, there was no need to answer.