Sausage Cacciatore

My siblings certainly get a thanks for the dinner that I put together for the golf weekend with my buddies.

Two weeks before I left for the trip, I met up with Jim and Scott, and we made a batch of sausage.

I put the sausage in my golf bag, and it was still slightly frozen when I finally got my hands on my luggage.

I had also stuffed Corinne’s recipe for sausage cacciatore in the book I was reading.

Corinne detailed the recipe, and I followed it to the letter.

I put it all together on Friday night, and on Saturday I set it to simmer as we played.

When you’re feeding a group of people there’s a moment, as they’re digging in, when the cook wonders:

“Is this good?”

I’ve learned to start eating and make up my own mind about it.

Two forkfuls in, I knew:

“Nailed it.”

One of the Italian guys, who I’ve shared a lot of meals with, kept saying:

“Mmm, good.”

As if he were a caveman eating for the first time.

He kept saying those two words.

By the end, I had to share the recipe, and as usual, there were requests for some sausage the next time we make a batch.

Kudos to Jim and Corinne.

You made me look good.