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other as we embraced.
     
    She put her mouth next to my ear and whispered, "Y'know, I never did forgive you for keeping that Jeep." And with that, we pulled apart and said our final goodbyes before going off to separate parties and separate lives.

RIGATONI WITH SAUSAGE AND FENNEL
     
    1 lb. rigatoni
     
    5 Italian sausages
     
    2 fennel bulbs, stalks removed, feathery ends set aside.
     
    chicken stock
     
    olive oil, salt & pepper to taste, handful fresh dill (chopped together with the feathery ends of the fennel), grated parmigiano reggiano
     
    1 bottle good champagne
     
     
     
    1. Heat a large, heavy skillet on medium-high heat and place sausages in it. Split the sausages with a knife and, using a wooden spoon, force the meat out of the casings. I use turkey sausage for this recipe because it's ostensibly less awful for you. Also, I get naked in front of a camera from time to time, so any place I can save on my fat intake is good. Besides, I saw this documentary called "American Dream" about the Hormel packing plant strike and, jeez, what goes on in meat processing plants is gross.
     
    2. Contemplate the sad fate of cattle and the like as you pour a glass (preferably a flute) of champagne and drink to the turkeys that have found their ground-up way into your pan.
     
    3. When the sausage is browned and cooked through, transfer it to a bowl and set aside. Cut the fennel bulbs in half and cut out the core. Slice them from top to bottom (or side to side if you're feeling contrary; you're certainly not going to hurt my feelings if you do) and throw them into the hot pan, where you've placed a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. Take a piece of fennel from the pan and marvel at how well it goes with champagne as you take another sip.
     
    4. Once the fennel is caramelized add the sausage and keep cooking. Throw in half the dill and add a cup or so of the stock. When the stock reduces add some more. When the champagne in your glass reduces, add some more to that, too.
     
    5. Let out a yelp as the twice-risen bread dough falls to the floor and the dish shatters. Curse the god-damn bad luck of it all and say, "Oh, well, good thing I didn't put the pasta in yet". See if everyone needs a refill and announce that you're not going to let a minor setback like this ruin your dinner party and that you'll make a fresh batch stat! Ignore the protestations of your guests and open a second bottle of champagne.
     
    6. When the dough is ready to go into the oven put the pasta into the boiling water. Add some more chicken stock to the pan and let reduce as the pasta cooks. For that matter, go ahead and throw a ladle of the pasta water into the pan as well. I don't know why, but they do it on TV and it makes it look like you know what you're doing.
     
    7. Drain the cooked pasta and put it back into the pot along with the sauce, the rest of the dill and the grated cheese. Give it a good stir and transfer to a serving bowl. Place on the table and shrug modestly as your guests ooh and ahh. "Oh, I just threw it together", goes nicely with this dish, along with a green salad.
     
    8. Jump up from the table when you realize the bread is burning in the oven and tell your guests they've been eating too many carbs, anyway.
     
    9. Sit back down and finish the meal.
     

HIM AND HIS SHADOW
     
    The phone rang twice before I could answer it. Could I do an overnight? In Pennsylvania?
     
    I’m not fond of overnight jobs. They’re inherently risky, for one thing. If you and the client don’t click and decide to call it off, you’re forced into an uncomfortable renegotiation for the time you’ve spent together. If the client doesn’t appeal to you, you’ve got to put on the act for hours longer than normal. But, the real reason I try to avoid overnight gigs is that I don’t like morning sex. I jump out of bed upon waking. I want my coffee and I want to read the paper. I don’t want to kiss anybody before I’ve brushed my teeth.
     
    But,