So, we rattled around companionably in the tiny kitchen space, putting together some quickie “three-way” chili using the Carroll Shelby mix’s recipe and some pasta and cheese. It was a meal I remembered from my childhood; Grandma used to make it a lot in the winter, and it was always one of my secret comfort foods. I was a little surprised at Martin agreeing to eat it, though.
“This doesn’t really seem like your thing,” I remarked as I stirred the pasta.
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know…I guess three-way chili just isn’t high on my list of things I expect highly evolved alien races to eat.”
He laughed and reached up to a shelf to retrieve a couple of glasses so he could take them over to the table. A bottle of a local red wine was already airing out; I hadn’t seen those wine bottle
