Tomato Pasta with White Leye

I’ve learnt now, but for a while, B & I used to go through the same routine most nights.

C: Baby, what do you feel like for dinner; Tomato & Mushroom Pasta or Malay Curry with Caramelized Pumpkin? (Calling from within the pantry)

B: Where’s the meat? (Asked with exasperation)

C: Oh.

So don’t tell B but the other evening the only protein in the house was a thick slab of steak. Under no circumstance was I adding steak cubes to my lovingly prepared pasta.

We sat down outside; candles flickering, a soft breeze blowing over the vineyards, and I stated the ingredients of the pasta with a flourish of my napkin and pride in my voice.

There was a brief pause. A slight almost undetectable slump in his shoulders.

“Oh, and bacon” I quickly white lied.

With this a broad smile broke out across his face and I was given a ‘bon appetit’ kiss and a dove flew over our table and into the sunset with an olive branch in it’s beak.