Speaking of spaghetti, I had a meltdown after going to The Pasta House Company in U. City a few weeks ago. I met my dad there for dinner and ordered spaghetti marinara. I asked the waiter if it was vegetarian (an old habit). He said yes, of course. The spaghetti came to the table. It was super light on the sauce but edible. Then I noticed something that had texture. I pointed it out to my dad and made him taste it. He said, "That's just Parmesan. Don't worry." I ate a bit more. Then I grew certain of it - it was not Parmesan. I asked our waiter if he gave me a meat sauce, and it was confirmed. I'm still not sure if it was my hormones or just that I hadn't had hamburger meat in about 15 years, but I put my head on the red and white tablecloth and wept, folks. We're talking shaky sobs.
Bad story.
Tonight was a much tastier experience -- the pasta "bolognese" had a light though zesty sauce that highlighted oregano, onion, tomato, and of course, the Quorn:
We're planning on asking the ultrasound technician if she can write the gender down on a piece of paper instead of telling us. Jake will put the piece of paper in an envelope and hold onto it until dinner, when we will open it together. If I held onto the envelope throughout the day, I am 100 percent certain I would cheat and open the envelope before dinner. Not Jake though. So that's the plan, man. I'll let you know what happens:)