My Filthy Confession: I Put Vegenaise on Everything
My secret shame is a culinary experience that I will never forget
It all started on what was supposed to be a relaxing getaway in the woods with friends. We had loaded up the car with books and boardgames, made a stop at the nearest grocery store for supplies, and were settling in for our first evening away from it all when something happened that I have never told anyone about until now. My friend Patrick and I had agreed to make the first night’s dinner. We were having a lovely time in the kitchen, reminiscing about old times, singing along to hits of the ’90s, and throwing together a nice, simple pasta marinara with vegetables for our hungry friends who were playing cards in the other room. All of a sudden, Patrick turned to me and said something that would change the course of my life forever: “Where’s the spaghetti sauce?”
A frantic search through the car and the empty shopping bags yielded nothing but the horrible, creeping realization that we had forgotten the marinara. And now, here we sat, five friends huddled glumly around a table neatly set with plates, glasses for wine, a tasteful side salad, all manner of condiments, and a bowl full of bland, miserable, sauceless spaghetti and vegetables. Gus was the first to try it ,and the look on his face said all we needed to know. It was…
