Did you ever walk into somebody’s house and it smelled so good you didn’t want to leave? I remember Mrs. Avle. We lived a few houses down from her when I was 10 years old, and it seemed that she was always making tomato meat sauce. You could smell it down the street and it was absolutely delicious. I even made friends with her son in hopes of getting a chance to taste the source of this mesmerizing aroma. Some children make friends with kids who have pools or ping pong tables, for me it was the meat sauce. And for this sauce I would have done anything.
One day, the son invited me in after school, I walked through the front door and was knocked back by the smell of perfectly herbed tomatoes, a perfect amount of garlic and savory beef. I don’t remember his name, and probably ignored most of what he said for the next hour. I looked at my watch, 5pm. Yes, he would be having dinner soon. Mrs. Avle called him up from the kitchen. This was it. 'OK, look hungry and needy.' I said to myself. I followed what’s-his-name to the kitchen and smiled politely in anticipation for my invitation to eat. Mrs. Avle looked at me with her no-nonsense face. She did not smile. I waited for what seemed hours for my invitation. At this point I was about four feet away from the magical pot. She might as well have been cooking meth in that kitchen, for the smell had made my heart race and my pupils dilate.
