Hello, Old Friend

I miss my old buddy pasta. What glorious times we had--me eating, him (or would it be her?) satisfying my insatiable addiction to carbohydrates.

Unfortunately, an addiction is what it is. And addictions are not known to be good things.

Not that I would have quit pasta on my own. Oh no. Its hold on me was too strong for that. But living in a house in which I cook for two other people who don't eat it (gluten issues) has made it pretty easy to not make pasta. Because I'm not about to make an extra food that half the household doesn't eat*. I cook enough as it is without starting up with that.

So. Pasta is a pretty rare occurrence.

But we have half a gallon-sized freezer bag full of pesto cubes left from last year that I want to finish up before I start making this year's pesto. So I made pasta with pesto last night. Cubby loves it, and Charlie's okay with it, so the three of us ate some of it. And then I had a bunch left over.

I also have a huge bag of garlic scapes that Mr. Jason brought by last night. Plus some mushrooms. And a small amount of Italian sausage Cubby didn't eat last night. And some heavy cream.

A. and the MiL don't eat pasta. Cubby doesn't eat mushrooms. Charlie doesn't eat sausage (he probably would, actually, but I try to limit his sodium intake to reasonable levels, and sausage is not reasonable). But all those things together in one bowl, plus the cream and scapes?

Oh pasta/pesto/mushrooms/sausage/garlic scapes/cream mixed up in a glorious messy bowl.  You complete me. And make a damn good lunch.

* Yes, I am aware of the existence of gluten-free pasta. No, I do not like it.