Wednesday 12 November
Holt had gone to Zehr's to buy pancetta. He asked for prosciutto, watched as the guy sliced the prosciutto, weighed the prosciutto, wrapped the prosciutto, all the while thinking pancettoid thoughts.
We made a thick alfredo with lots of butter, the last of the cream, the last nubbin of asiago, and showered at the last minute with lots of prosciutto, which by sheer good luck we happened to have on hand.
Salty goodness.
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