My amatriciana was too fiery for my sister's tender palate, so Margy and I brought the container of leftovers home from Vermont.
Good thing we did, since we didn't feel like lifting a finger. I only had to lift half a finger to sprinkle Parmesan and bread crumbs over the pasta and toss it into the oven. Should I admit we devoured our well-browned baked penne while watching the Golden Globes on TV? Probably not. But it's true. It was an odd broadcast; it seemed like the celebs have finally grasped the ludicrousness of the Globes and the fact that these supposedly important Oscar-forecasting awards are voted on by like six Swiss freelance movie critics. Practically every actor's acceptance speech was flippant and borderline mocking... and not too funny. Why do they all bother to show up? Why do some of us bother to tune in?
Maybe this answers both of those questions: It's the booze.
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