I'm being very bad tonight. I'm playing hooky and also making these evil and yummy little guys for my children's dinner. Instead of a nutritionally balanced, homecooked family meal (the usual, I swear), I'm letting everyone fend for themselves.
I remember when I was a little girl, my babysitters took me to the store once to buy some cans of Sketti-gos for our dinner. They tried to get me to eat them cold right out of the can, saying it's how all the cool kids ate them. I refused. My mother worked for a doctor, and I well knew that you should not eat things without cooking them first. Bacteria, you see. Quite the square, even at the age of 8. Of course I had no idea of those wonderful things called preservatives that miraculously keep canned items edible 100 years thence. Later, in the safety of my mother's kitchen, I asked her if I could eat Sketti-gos out of the can. She said yes, and I tried it for the first time. So sublime it was I may have refused to eat them any other way for awhile.
As I made them for Big Stuff and Small Fry tonight, I guiltily wondered if half a can would be enough for each child's sad little supper while at the same time sneaking a big yummy spoonful for myself right out of the pot. Justice is swift, however. I totally burned my mouth, thereby destroying every last taste bud and my own leftover bowtie pasta dinner, which I had intended to eat cold right out of the tupperware. So bad.