This week, we're preparing for some time away from New Haven, which means lots of laundry, packing, errands, and cleaning out the refrigerator. We're rationing the milk in our morning cereal so that we won't have to buy another half gallon that we inevitably won't finish, reheating soup from the freezer, and resisting the urge to open a new package of cookies. 

My favorite chore was finishing off the jar of spaghetti sauce. Now I'm all for some handmade pasta and from-scratch tomato goodness, but I can also appreciate the humble box-noodle topped with a jarred sauce. When I was younger, those chunks of tomato would have been unwelcome, so my mother often pulsed jarred sauce in the blender before dinnertime, but now I don't mind it so much if one of those red blobs gets tangled up in my noodle twirl.  

Spaghetti is one food that I can eat and eat and eat. And when I'm finished, I shockingly still feel hungry for more. (There might be a nutritional explanation for that phenomenon, but I prefer to blame it on sentiment.) My grandfather used to tell me to come to a pasta dinner with an empty leg--there's more room that way. It's great advice.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for dinner. Black bean chili with a side of cornbread. I had to make the cornbread with applesauce because we're out of eggs. It might be weird. I think I'll keep my leg full for this one.

Have a wonderful Wednesday!