WHAT BEN HAD UP HIS sleeve for dinner turned out to be homemade pasta, which he mixed together with flour, water, egg yolks, and salt. He used a jar of spaghetti sauce Casey hadn’t finished up the previous week to roll the dough into a thin rectangle that he cut into loose, easy strips and dropped into boiling water. The sauce was simple— cherry tomatoes sliced down the center and bursting with juice, ripped basil, fruity olive oil, and slivers of garlic turned golden in the pan. He’d brought an aged Parmesan that didn’t need to have the rind cut off like Casey’s and a crisp white wine to top it off.
Casey was put to work on the salad, a simple bouquet of baby spinach, slivered red onion, candied walnuts Ben toasted in the pan, and dollops of creamy goat cheese he’d bought from a farm sta
