“Oh my god!” Sly closed his eyes to appreciate the mouthful he’d just taken.
The flavors unfolded on him, cream, garlic, and bacon with an underlying accent of pepper. Wine, parmesan…the layers just kept appearing.
“What’s with the pasta?” Dave was poking it with his fork like it was going to jump out of the bowl and attack him.
Sly savored it just a moment longer as Tom answered him.
“That’s fresh spaghetti, you goon.”
“Fettuccini,” Sly corrected him.
“Fresh? Like fresh-made. How do you even make fet-tu-chi-ni?” he harassed Sly. “And why’s it all speckly?”
“It’s fresh-made pepper pasta and the way you make it this good, I’ll be damned if I know.”
“Hey, Sly,” Tom pointed at his own bowl of pasta. “You gotta try this.”
Dave looked over, “Why’s it all green? That can’t be right.”
“
