I was on the phone with CC, and I said, “So I need to use up this pesto I opened the other day, so I’m making pasta, and with, um, Brussels sprouts?, yeah?, you think?”—

(Like the Spanish Inquisition, the Brussels sprouts were unexpected. I’d gone into Steve’s C-Town the Supermarket for Savings with broccolini in mind, but then—faced with the squat paper tub announcing the jaunty Mr. Sprout—I’d needed to reevaluate my priorities.)

—and she said, “Yes, roasted,” and I said, “Yes, totally,” and she said, “And with bacon,” and I said, “I have no bacon,” and she said, “In your freezer,” and there it was. Hey, Andrea, remember when you were here? And we got that massive packet of bacon for the scallops? And I said, “But I will never eat the rest of that bacon!”? Well. Tossed with some fancy penne, and Brussels sprouts and whole cloves of garlic roasted in olive oil and pepper and salt, mm-mm-mm that bacon was eaten.